So I stayed with bigger roads. The SUV stayed with me. I had a full tank of gas but couldn’t keep this up much longer, or I’d end up driving Ethan to the ER.

Same with pulling any fancy moves through intersections-if I had been the only one in the car, I would have taken turns faster and blown a red light. I would have to try to lose the SUV with subtler moves, or lead him somewhere he definitely didn’t want to go.

I thought of going back to the police department, but that might only be a temporary solution, since I could have been followed from there. And I was afraid the issue might be forced before then.

I grabbed my purse and pushed it toward Ethan. “Take out my cell phone-it’s clipped to the side. Hold down the number two and it will dial Frank’s cell phone. Tell him what’s happening, and ask him if a patrol car could pull one of us over.”

“Pull one of us over! Why not him?”

“My first choice, of course, but I’ll take scaring him off any way we can.”

Frank had just answered when the SUV turned down a side street, disappearing from view.

“He’s gone,” I said.

Ethan still told Frank what was going on. He spoke to him while I made a few more unnecessary turns, making sure I hadn’t been handed off to a second tail.

“Frank says stay on the phone with him until we get home.”

So they talked, mostly about the visit to Tadeo, with occasional interruptions when Ethan relayed a question from Frank, mostly to ask if I was sure I didn’t have another shadow.

When we reached the house, a patrol car was parked out front.

“Don’t worry,” Ethan said. “Frank made sure it wasn’t Officer Fletcher.”

“I don’t want to become paranoid about everyone in that family,” I said, not entirely sure that it wasn’t too late to prevent that from happening.

I recognized the officer as Mike Sorenson, a longtime friend of Frank’s, and felt the last of my fear easing.

“Dude,” Ethan said into the phone, “he’s so old.”

I heard Frank laughing.

“Ethan,” I said, “he’ll be able to protect us from anything short of an act of God.”

We said good-bye to Frank and hello to Mike. Ethan was perfectly polite to him, perhaps because when Mike helped him into the house, he got a better chance to see that the man is built like a steel vault. Ethan took a painkiller and headed for bed.

Mike told me he was going to stick around for a while, if I didn’t mind.

I didn’t, because even knowing that sooner or later he would have to return to regular duties, it was a relief to have him there. The dogs, friendly as they were, were also protective, and would undoubtedly hear anyone trying to approach the house.

I kept trying to figure out why anyone would want to follow me. Who could it be? Sheila’s killer? But if the killer was worried that I had told the Las Piernas police something about him, reading the Express would have let him know I hadn’t seen the person who ran off. And the person who ran off might not, after all, have been the killer. It would be too late to come after me now to shut me up, anyway-I had already talked to the police that night, and the public knew it.

To prevent me from testifying later? Testifying to what? The risk of being caught while coming after me would be greater than any threat I could pose in a courtroom.

It didn’t seem likely to me that whoever followed me was the killer. I thought about the other stories I had been working on lately and couldn’t come up with anything that would merit that sort of effort, unless it was the story about missing children and custodial kidnappings. I thought about what had appeared in the paper so far, but couldn’t see how anything in that story would result in my being followed. What had I done that would make anyone that nervous?

If I had been followed from the police department today, how could the person in the SUV know I would be there or at the gas station?

No matter how hard I thought about it, I couldn’t see what threat I represented to anyone at this point. The only person I had upset lately was the kid at the dentist’s office, Bobby Smith, and he wasn’t the type to stalk with intent to harm.

This could easily be in connection with something less recent than Sheila Dolson’s murder, I decided. I had made enemies over the years.

I looked in on Ethan, who was already asleep again. Altair had taken up his post next to him but watched me with his big brown eyes. The dog’s closeness to Ethan would last until Frank came home. Cody, ensconced at the foot of the bed, allowed this much sharing of Ethan. The big cat was jealous of any affection given to Deke and Dunk, but even Cody had been won over by Altair.

It suddenly occurred to me that someone who wanted Altair might have been in that SUV. It would fit perfectly-a vehicle for carrying search dogs. Did the SUV driver know I was married to a cop? If so, maybe he had simply waited until I came by police headquarters.

I don’t show up at the department very often, but it wouldn’t be hard to learn that I was married to Frank. Suppose the driver was planning to follow him home? A stupid move, because Frank was unlikely to miss seeing a tail. I hoped. Although I have encountered some major-league meanies over the years, he has more violent enemies than I do.

If Frank was the person the driver of the SUV intended to follow home, my stopping by the department must have seemed to be a great stroke of luck.

Altair sighed and lowered his head to his forepaws. I knelt next to him and scratched his ears, winning another sigh, this one of satisfaction.

I worried that even with the company of Cody and the other dogs, he might be bored-SAR dogs are often trained several times a week, in what are extended play sessions as far as the dogs are concerned. I didn’t know what Sheila’s routine had been, but Altair didn’t get to his level of proficiency without work on the part of his handlers.

At least we knew another skilled handler, someone I could trust completely-Ben had promised to come by to work with him tomorrow. I suspected that would cheer the dog up a little.

Ben had been surprised that Altair had so quickly and strongly attached himself to Frank and Ethan. “Usually a dog will attach himself more quickly to a human of the same sex as his previous handler. He’s worked with me and other men on the team, but he’s been living in female-only households. Makes me wonder what was going on with Sheila and the dog.”

“She seemed to me to have a mean streak, but you sound as if you think she might have abused him.”

He hesitated. “I certainly won’t make a horrible accusation like that without more facts. He’s not shying away from you, right?”

“Right.”

I thought back over that conversation now, and about Anna’s attempt to get me to hand him over to her. I wondered if the Fletchers would lay claim to him somehow, produce a will saying Sheila had left him to them. Or say that he now belonged to the family even if she hadn’t left a will.

How badly might someone want him? Enough to steal him?

We might not be Altair’s final home, but damned if I was going to let him be stolen. I’d have to talk to Ben about who drove what on the Las Piernas SAR team.