"Could it have been someone who was at the sex party with you?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I doubt it."

"Who else was there?"

"I don't know."

"You mean you didn't recognize them?"

"I mean, everyone wears masks. It's part of the game. The anonymity."

"So when you go, you don't know who else is going to be there?"

"No. Other than Sonia and Delmar, of course." She twitched and pressed her lips together. Her eyes darted to the floor.

"What is it?"

"I did know someone else who was there," she admitted.

"Who?"

"Maggie's husband. Eric. He was easy to spot. Him and his long blond hair."

Stride thought about Maggie. Do you think I don't have secrets?

"Did Maggie know about Eric and the club?" he asked, but he already knew what Katrina was going to say.

"Oh, yeah. She knew."

"You're sure?"

"We talked about it before I did it."

Stride shook his head. He couldn't believe any of this.

"What did she tell you?"

"She said I should do whatever I wanted, but we haven't talked since then. I called her after Eric was killed, but she never called me back. I guess I don't blame her."

"Are you telling me that Maggie was in the club?" Stride asked, and he could taste horror like sour wine in his mouth.

"Fasten your seat belt, Lieutenant. Maggie was the alpha girl the month before me."

29

Serena hated driving through the winter nights in Minnesota.

It was nearly eleven o'clock, and the northern highway was a long stretch of nothingness. She was an hour from Duluth, in the empty stretch where miles went by between towns. On either side of the road, the evergreens pressed in like dark towers, and the wilderness behind them was a black mass. She was afraid of deer springing out from the woods. There were carcasses on the shoulder every few miles, and when her headlights lit up the median, she could see hoof tracks cutting through the snow. The beasts were out there, tracking her.

She found a country radio station, but the signal came and went. She heard bits and pieces of songs by Miranda Lambert, Alan Jackson, and LeAnn Rimes, and she found herself singing along, making her feel less alone in the car. Country music was one of the things that she and Jonny had in common. You either got it or you didn't. Most people groaned when they heard her playing Terri Clark on the stereo, or when she told them about driving six hours to go to a Sara Evans concert in Des Moines. She didn't bother explaining. If you didn't get tears in your eyes listening to "No Place That Far," you wouldn't understand.

Her cell phone rang on the seat next to her.

"Oh, man, what are you listening to this time?" Maggie asked.

Serena laughed and switched off the radio. Maggie was like Tony Wells, a fan of hard rock and heavy metal.

"That's Garth, you heathen. Say one word against him, and I'll be forced to shave your head."

"Jeez, one innocent remark, and you country music fans go all shotguns and hound dogs on me." She added, "Where are you?"

"I'm heading north on Thirty-five. I'm just about to Finlayson."

"Watch out for deer."

"I'm trying to."

"Have you talked to Stride?"

"Not tonight. I tried earlier, but I got his voice mail."

"He wants the three of us to get together tomorrow," Maggie told her. "He thinks he knows how some of the pieces connect."

"Do you know what he's got?"

Maggie's voice was flat. "Yeah, I did something stupid. I should have told him about it myself. I didn't think there was any connection to what happened to me, but I guess I was kidding myself."

Serena let the silent air drag on, waiting for Maggie to continue. She didn't. "You want to tell me about it?"

"I'll let him do it. I feel like enough of an idiot already."

"Whatever you want, kiddo. You want to hear what I found at the Ordway?"

"Sure."

Serena filled her in about Eric's visit to the theater and the sudden decision by Helen Danning to skip town the day after Eric's murder. "I checked the restaurant where you said Eric had dinner. The waiter recognized Helen Danning. He saw the two of them together."

"Did he hear what they were talking about?"

"Whatever it was, Helen wasn't happy. She left halfway through the meal."

"And now she's gone."

"Seriously gone," Serena said. "No forwarding address. I sweet-talked the building manager, and he let me take a look at her apartment. She left behind her furniture, but she took everything else she could cram into her car. I swiped a coffee mug from her counter so we could run it for prints."

"You did what?"

"I swiped a coffee mug. Why?"

Maggie was silent.

"You there?" Serena asked.

"Yeah. Yeah. Something didn't feel right for a second there, like I had forgotten something important. I almost had my finger on it, but it's gone now. What was this stuff about a blog?"

"Eric apparently found Helen through some blog she was running. Lady something. Does that ring a bell?"

"Not with me. The cops took Eric's computers, so Guppo might be able to pull a record of sites he visited. I'll see what I can find online."

"Any guesses on how Helen fits into this?" Serena asked.

"I think Eric told her something that scared the shit out of her. When he died, she ran."

"Or maybe she told him something."

"That's a good point. I'll see you tomorrow. Drive carefully."

Serena hung up, and she was back in the cocoon of the quiet car. In the rearview mirror, about a half mile behind her, she noticed headlights. The vehicle matched her speed, and she wondered if he was skating in her wake. She did that herself sometimes on long drives at night, shadowing a semi in front of her and letting it clear a path by killing off the deer. Right now, though, she didn't like the idea that there were just the two of them on the highway.

Her cell phone rang again, and she jumped at the noise. She assumed it was Maggie calling back. Or Jonny. It wasn't.

"Hello, Serena."

It took her a moment to recognize the voice, which awakened a shapeless fear inside her. It was the blackmailer she had met at midnight in the cemetery.

"You're out late," he told her.

"What do you want?"

She was certain it was him in the other car.

"In about a mile, you'll come to a rest stop. Take the exit and park."

"Why should I?"

"I have something for you. Something you'll find very interesting."

"What is it?"

"Take the exit and park."

He ended the call.

Serena had to make a snap decision. The exit to the rest stop was practically on top of her. She swung the wheel, braked sharply, and steered in among the trees. The rest stop was closed for the season; the road was slippery and snow-covered. She carved tracks as she went. She kept an eye on her mirror and was surprised to see the headlights of the other car pass by on the highway without stopping.

She got out of her car and stepped down into six inches of powdery snow. She reached back inside and turned off the lights, wanting it dark, not wanting to paint herself as a target. She didn't trust this man and wanted her gun in her hand. She went immediately to the trunk, opened it, and retrieved her Glock. Its heft comforted her. She walked away from the car and swung slowly around in a circle, pointing the gun in front of her. Fir trees swayed overhead, cradling snow in their outstretched branches. They looked like faceless monsters. As the wind blew, making a fearsome hiss, it sent a cold, silvery mist down from the trees into her face.

The rest stop itself was dark. There were a few other blurry tire tracks in the parking lot from drivers who had ignored the closed sign, like her, and come inside to piss or sleep. None of the tracks was fresh. She stood alone in the middle of the blanket of snow, dwarfed by the forest, feeling both invisible and exposed at the same time. The wind blinded her senses. Where was he?