Pud hesitated another couple of seconds, then took a big inhale and went forward to the two women. He got each of them by the hand. They were childlike, putting their hands out for him to hold. I went down the stairs ahead of them, Pud behind me with the sisters.

Shoney was back on his feet when we went out the front door. He and Brill were looking a little aimless and uncertain as we passed them. They had no guns, and I had mine, so they made no move to stop us. We ran straight across the lawn, through the sprinkler mist, to my car, the women stumbling a little in bare feet.

"Put them in the backseat and down out of sight."

I went around to the driver's side and was in with the motor running when Pud joined me in the front. The Clive girls were lying in the backseat, SueSue above Stonie. I went into gear and we squealed away from the curb and out onto the street. As we turned the first corner, two Security South cars went bucketing past us, their flashers on, riding to the rescue.

"Jesus H. Mahogany Christ," Pud said.

He was still winded from running the sisters to the car. Breathing hard, he looked back at the two girls, still clinging to each other as if to keep each other from slipping away.

"Can they sit up?" Pud said between breaths.

"Sure," I said.

"SueSue, you and Stonie sit up now," Pud said.

Silently they did as he told them.

"You do this kind of thing often?" Pud said.

His respiration was normalizing.

"Usually before breakfast," I said.

"Man!" Pud said.

We turned onto Main Street. There wasn't much traffic. We passed a young woman in blue sweatpants and a white halter top, walking a baby in a stroller. A golden retriever moseyed along beside them on a slack leash. Pud eyed her as we passed. The ghostly sisters sat bolt upright in the backseat, their shoulders touching, looking at nothing. Pud looked back. No sign of pursuit.

"We can't just ride around all day," Pud said.

"True."

"Where we going?" Pud said.

"To a gay bar."

FORTY-EIGHT

"WHAT THE FUCK am I running here," Tedy Sapp said when I sat down, "a family crisis center?"

"You're my closest friend in Georgia," I said.

We were at Sapp's table near the door. Pud was in the back room with Cord, and SueSue and Stonie.

"First, Cord Wyatt comes in here like an orphan in the storm and says you sent him. Then you show up with the rest of the fucking family. What do we do when Delroy finds out they're here?"

"Maybe he won't find out," I said.

"I'm a bouncer, not a fucking commando. Delroy's got twelve, fifteen people he can put in here with automatic weapons. What's wrong with the Clive girls?"

"I don't know for sure. They've apparently been prisoners in the house since their father died. I don't know why. They're either traumatized or drugged or both, and it's like talking to a couple of shy children."

"Nice haircuts," Sapp said.

"You homosexuals are so fashion-conscious," I said.

"Yeah. I wonder why they cut their hair that way?"

"Maybe it wasn't their idea," I said. "Or the white pajamas."

"So what do you want from me?"

"I want you to look out for them, Cord and Pud too, while I figure out what's going on."

"And how long do you expect that to take?" Sapp said.

"Given my track record," I said, "about twenty more years."

"Becker will work with you," Sapp said. "If you get him something he can take to court."

"That's my plan," I said.

"Glad to hear you got one. What are you going to do about Delroy?"

"I'm hoping to bust his chops," I said.

"You figure he's the one?" Sapp said.

"He's at least one of the ones," I said.

"Delroy's a jerk," Sapp said. "But he's a mean dangerous jerk."

"The perfect combination," I said.

Sapp reached under the table and came out with a Colt.45 semiautomatic pistol, and put it on the table.

"On the other hand," Sapp said, "you and me ain't a couple of йclairs either."

"A valid point," I said. "Can you sit on things here while I go up to Saratoga?"

"Saratoga?"

"Yep. I want to see Penny."

"So, I'll bunk all the Clive castoffs here," Sapp said.

"And feed and clothe them, and watch out for them, supply bath towels, and clean sheets, and shoot it out with Security South as needed. And you'll go up to Saratoga."

"Yeah."

"That's your plan?"

"You got a better one?"

"I don't need a better one," Sapp said. "I can just walk away from it."

"You going to?"

"No."

"Then what are we talking about?" I said.

"It was a grand day for me," Sapp said, "when you wandered in here."

"Shows I'm not homophobic."

"Too bad," Sapp said. "Can any of these people shoot?"

"You got a shotgun?" I said.

"Sure."

"Almost anyone can use a shotgun," I said.

"If they will."

"Ay, there's the rub."

FORTY-NINE

THE BAD NEWS about Saratoga was that it's about a thousand miles from Atlanta and I was driving. The good news about Saratoga was that it isn't so far from Massachusetts, and with a fifty-mile detour I could stop in Boston and pick up Susan. Practicing psychotherapy in Cambridge is a license to steal, and Susan, after a good year, had bought herself a little silver Mercedes sport coupe with red and black leather interior and a hard top that went up and down at the push of a button.

"We'll take it to Saratoga," she said.

"That car fits me like the gloves fit O. J.," I said.

"I'll drive," she said.

"I'm not sure I want to get there that fast."

"It'll be fun. I can buy a big hat."

"That's mostly why we're going," I said. "What about Pearl?"

"I already called Lee Farrell," she said. "He'll come and stay with her."

Which is how we got to be zipping along the Mass Pike, well above the speed limit, toward New York State, with the top down and Susan's big hat stashed safely in the small trunk space that was left after the top folded into it. Periodically we changed lanes for no reason that I could see.

"Tell me everything about the case," she said. "Since San Francisco and the dreadful Sherry Lark."

Her dark thick hair moved in the wind, and occasionally she would brush it away as she drove. She wore iridescent Oakley wraparound sunglasses, and her profile was clear and beautiful.

"I feel like Nick and Nora Charles," I said.

"Of course, darling. Would you like to stop at the next Roy Rogers and have a martini?"

"Not without Asta," I said.

"She loves Lee Farrell," Susan said. "She'll be perfectly happy."

I told her about the case. She was a professional listener and was perfectly quiet as I talked.

"So what do you hope to do in Saratoga?" she said when I was through.

"What I always do. Blunder around, ask questions, get in people's way, be annoying."

"Make love with the girl of your dreams."

"That too," I said. "All the principals are here: Dolly, Jason, Penny, and Delroy."