“I know, I know. Once Reeves got the ball rolling, everyone joined in. Tell me about Ethan.”

“We’re keeping him inside, just putting him in front of the television. We’ve got some Disney DVDs and he’s watching them. David, I went onto the CNN website, and even they had an item on it. It was short but-”

“Mom, just worry about Ethan. Does he know what’s going on?”

“He looked outside a couple of times but I’ve told him to stay away from the window, because if they can get a picture of him, they’ll probably use it.”

“Okay, that’s good. Does he know why they’re there?”

“No,” Mom said. “I made up a crazy story.”

“What kind of story?”

“I told him sometimes people come by to see the house because Batman used to live here.”

In spite of everything, I laughed. “Yeah, your house is a regular Wayne Manor.”

“I don’t know why I said it. It was the first thing I could think of. Hang on, your father wants to talk to you.”

“Okay, Mom, thanks-”

“Son?”

“Hi, Dad.”

“Where are you?”

“Just walking along the highway north of Lake George.”

“Why the hell are you doing that?”

“What is it, Dad?”

“I got somebody for you.”

“Got somebody who?”

“A lawyer. Her name’s Bondurant.”

It rang a bell. “Natalie Bondurant?” I asked.

“That’s the one. Is that French, you figure?”

“I don’t know.”

“I called the office and they had this weekend emergency number and I got hold of her. She said she’s willing to talk to you.”

“Thanks. That’s great, Dad.”

“You need to talk to her today. The shit’s hitting the fan around here.”

“I hear ya.”

“I got her number. Can you write something down?”

I had my notepad in my pocket. “All right, fine.” I got out the pad, flipped it open, wrote down the number Dad dictated to me.

“If you were smart, you’d give her a call right now,” Dad said.

“When I get back on the road.”

“Is my car okay?” Dad asked. Even with all that was going on, Dad never lost sight of the things that mattered to him.

“The car’s fine,” I said.

“If you’re not going to call her now, she did have one piece of advice for you in the meantime.”

“What’s that?”

“She said not to say a goddamn thing to the police.”

Ted’s had come into view. Leaning up against Dad’s car was Detective Barry Duckworth.

“Nice day for a walk,” Duckworth said as I approached. His unmarked cruiser was parked off to one side. That must have been what Welland saw before he decided to keep on driving. Unmarked police cruisers had a certain look about them.

“Yeah,” I said. Was there anyone who hadn’t followed me up here?

I fished the car keys out of my pocket, hoping to send the message that I was on my way.

“What are you doing up here?” Duckworth asked.

“I might ask you the same thing.”

“But if I don’t answer, it doesn’t look suspicious,” he said.

“I came up to talk to Ted.”

“What were you doing leaving your car here and strolling down the highway? Not much down there to see.”

I wanted to tell him about my ride with Sebastian. But the prison boss had intimidated me to the point that I wasn’t sure that was a good idea. Plus, I didn’t think Duckworth would believe me anyway.

“I was just walking, and thinking.”

“About what Ted told you?”

“So you’ve already spoken to him.”

“Briefly,” Duckworth said. “You shouldn’t be doing that. Approaching witnesses, giving them a hard time. That’s bad form.”

“He told you things that didn’t make any sense to me. I wanted to hear them for myself.”

And did you?”

“Yeah.”

“Still think he’s lying?”

“He says it’s on the security video. What Jan said to him.”

“That’s right,” Duckworth said. “It’s a little muddy in places, but we got people who can clean that up. But what he said basically checks out.”

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“I think I do,” Duckworth said.

“You would,” I said, “because you think I know what’s happened to Jan. But I don’t.”

“Who was it took you for a ride and dropped you off down the road?”

So. He already knew about that, too. Ted must have told him about seeing Welland grab hold of me.

“It was Elmont Sebastian,” I said. “And his driver.”

“The prison guy?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s he doing up here?”

“He wanted to talk to me. I’ve been trying to get some quotes from him.”

“And he drove all the way up here to give them to you?”

“Look,” I said, “I want to get back home. Things don’t sound good there.”

“Yeah,” Duckworth said. “There’s a bit of a media frenzy building. I want you to know, for what it’s worth, I didn’t set it off. I think it was your pal Reeves. Once the media started calling, we’ve had no choice but to field their questions. It’s not my style, to get something like this going.”

“For what it’s worth, thank you,” I said. “So you followed me up here?”

“Not exactly,” Duckworth said.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I was on my way up to something else and decided to pop in and have a word with Ted myself. Another Promise Falls officer came up earlier to get the surveillance video off him, but I thought a face-to-face was in order. Ted mentioned you’d just been in, and that your car was still here.”

“So you decided to wait for me.”

Duckworth nodded slowly.

“What was the other thing you were coming up here for?” I asked.

Duckworth’s cell phone rang. He put it to his ear and said, “Duckworth… Okay… Is the coroner there yet?… I don’t think I’m any more than a couple of miles away… See you shortly.”

He ended the call and put the phone away.

“What is it?” I asked. “What was that about the coroner?”

“Mr. Harwood, there’s been a discovery just up the road from here.”

“A discovery?”

“A shallow grave just off the side of the road. Freshly dug and covered over.”

I reached my hand out and used the car to support myself. My throat went dry and my temples began to pulse.

“Whose body’s in it?”

Duckworth nodded.

“Who?” I asked. “Is it Jan?”

“Well, they don’t know anything for sure yet,” Duckworth said.

I closed my eyes.

It’s not supposed to end this way.

Duckworth said, “Why don’t we take my car.”

We headed north, the way I’d been taken by Sebastian and Welland, but in under a mile Duckworth put on his blinker and turned down a narrow gravel road that went down, then up, winding all the time. The inside of Duckworth’s car smelled of french fries. The smell made me feel sick to my stomach.

Not far up ahead, several police cars and vans blocked our path.

“We’ll walk in from here,” Duckworth said, slowing and putting his car into park.

“Who saw this grave?” I asked. I’d felt my hands shaking a moment ago, and had grabbed the door handle with my right and tucked my left under my thigh, hoping Duckworth wouldn’t notice. I felt I needed to disguise how nervous I was, worried Duckworth would take that to mean I was guilty of something.

But wouldn’t any man, especially an innocent man whose wife was missing, be distraught after learning a body had been found?

“What the locals tell me,” Duckworth said, “is there’s a couple of cabins down at the end of this road, and a guy who lives in one of them spotted something suspicious at the side, went to check it out, realized what was buried there, and he called the police.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Couple of hours,” Duckworth said. “Local cops secured the scene, then they contacted us. We’d already been in touch, putting them on alert about your wife.”

“I told you nothing happened with Jan when we were up here,” I said.

“You’ve made that very clear, Mr. Harwood,” he said. He opened his door, then looked at me. “You can stay right here if you’d like.”

“No,” I said. “If it’s Jan, I have to know.”