Dark Places

hunters. Farmers,” Diane said. “We’re around animals, dressing animals all the time. It’s not so strange that he might have something from them.”
    “Really, do you keep parts of dead animals in your home?” For the first time Collins looked straight at Diane, a hard stare he cut off after just a few seconds.
    “Is there a law against it?” Diane barked back.
    “One of the rituals that Devil worshipers engage in is the sacrifice of animals, Mrs. Day,” Collins said. “I’m sure you heard about them cattle axed up over near Lawrence. We think that and the involvement with the little girls all ties together.”
    Patty’s face was cold. It was done, it was all done. “What do you want me to do?” she asked.
    “I’ll follow you to your place, so we can talk to your son, OK?” Collins said, turning paternal on that last note, his voice going high, almost flitting into babytalk. Patty could feel Diane’s hands clench next to her.
    “He’s not at home. We’ve been trying to find him.”
    “We absolutely need to talk to your son, Mrs. Day. Where do you think we can find him?”
    “We don’t know where he is,” Diane interrupted. “We’re in the same boat as you.”
    “Are you going to arrest him?” Patty asked.
    “We can’t do anything until we talk to him, and the sooner we do, the sooner we’ll get this cleared up.”
    “That’s not an answer,” Diane said.
    “Only one I got, ma’am.”
    “That means yes,” Diane said, and for the first time she lowered her eyes.
    Collins stood up and walked over toward Libby during the last exchange, now he was kneeling down next to her, giving her a
Hi sweetie
.
    Diane grabbed his arm. “No. Leave her alone.”
    Collins frowned down on her. “I’m just trying to help. Don’t you want to know if Libby is OK?”
    “We know Libby is OK.”
    “Why don’t you let her tell me that. Or we could have Child Services—”
    “Screw off,” Diane said, getting in front of him. Patty sat in her place, willing herself to disconnect. She heard Diane and Collinssnapping behind her, but she just sat and watched the woman behind the counter make another pot of coffee, trying to focus all her interest on the coffee. It worked for just a second before Diane was pulling Patty and Libby, her mouth grimy with donut, out of the restaurant.
    PATTY FELT LIKE crying some more on the way home, but wanted to wait until Diane was gone. Diane made Patty drive, said it would be good for her to focus. The whole way home, Diane had to tell her which gears to switch to, she was so distracted.
Why don’t you try third, P? I think we need to go down to 2, now
. Libby sat in the backseat, saying nothing, bundling herself up, knees to chin.
    “Is something bad going to happen?” Libby finally asked.
    “No, honey.”
    “It seems like something bad’s going to happen.”
    Patty had another panic-flash then: what the hell was wrong with her, taking a seven-year-old into this kind of situation. Her mother would not have done this. Then again, her mother wouldn’t have raised Ben the way Patty had—slipshod and fingers-crossed— so it wouldn’t have been an issue.
    Right now, she had an almost obsessive need to get home, nest up, feel safe. The plan was, Patty would wait for Ben to get back—he had to be back soon, now—and Diane would go out and assess the gossip. Who knew what, whose side people were taking, and who in God’s name Ben was hanging around with.
    They rattled up to the house and saw Patty’s Cavalier and another car, some bucket-seated sportscar that looked about ten years old, spattered with mud.
    “Who’s that?” Diane asked.
    “No idea.” She said it tragically. Already Patty knew whoever it was, it would be depressing news.
    They opened the front door and felt the heat roll out. The thermostat had to be past eighty. The first thing they saw was an open box of microwave cocoa, the kind with fake marshmallows, on the dining room table, a trail of the cocoa mix leading to the kitchen. Then Patty heard that wheezy laugh and knew. Runner was sittingon the floor, sipping hot chocolate with her daughters leaning on him. Some nature show was on the TV, the girls squealing and grabbing his arms as an alligator boomed out of the water and snapped something with horns.
    He looked up lazily, as if she were a delivery person. “Heya, Patty, long time, no seeya.”
    “We got some family stuff going on,” Diane injected. “You should go on