Naked Prey

“It’s a good runner,” Holme said. “No problem about that. But how you gettin’ it back?”
    “I’ll find somebody to bring it back, or bring it back myself,” Lucas said. “Give me a week.” He thought about the possibility of a body out at the Cash house: he’d be back.
    And he called Mitford, who was still in his office. “Wegot a solid ID,” Lucas said. “I’m coming back tonight, we ought to arrive sometime after two in the morning, so I can be in early tomorrow. If you talk to the governor tonight, our next question is: When do we take him?”
    He explained about the DNA processing time. “The thing is, if we really nail him down right at the start, before he has a chance to get into some long strategy sessions with his lawyers . . . maybe we can find out what happened. At least what happened with the kidnapping.”
    “A two-fer,” Mitford said. “Clean up the kidnappings and the lynchings—the hanging. I’ll talk with the governor tonight. You’ll be on your cell phone?”
    “Yeah, but there are some big holes in the cell phone net. You might not be able to get me for a couple hours, unless I’m going through a town. Once I get on I-94 going south, we could probably hook up.”
    “If I don’t get you, we meet tomorrow for sure. How about seven o’clock?”
    “You got a life, Neil?”
    “What?”
    O N THE WAY out of the Law Enforcement Center, Lucas said good-bye to Anderson and Dickerson, the sheriff shaking hands with him this time. Lucas had the feeling that he wouldn’t stay away from Washington, but that was Anderson’s problem. “Guys, we kicked some ass today,” Lucas said.
    They consolidated their bags in the Olds, and Lucas took the wheel. As they passed the front of the courthouse, they saw the glow of TV lights on the front steps.
    “Getting set up for Washington,” Del said.
    “Like a flame for a moth,” Lucas said. “I’ll bet you ten bucks that Anderson winds up out there.”
    “No bet.”
    T HE T WIN C ITIES were southeast from Armstrong, but the fastest way home was on a state highway that went directly west for almost forty miles, where they would hook up with the north-south I-29 in North Dakota. They’d take I-29 to Fargo, where they’d catch I-94 east into the Cities. It was a long way around, but both Anderson and Dickerson said it was the quickest way, by at least an hour.
    On the way out of town, they called home to tell their wives that they were on the way. The housekeeper told Lucas that Weather was at the supermarket on Ford Parkway, but she’d pass the message on. Lucas put the speedometer on ninety and they headed through the moonless dark toward the North Dakota border.
    “Ought to bring the Porsche up here, let her out,” Lucas said. “Dead straight, not another car in sight, and we know where all the cops are.”
    “ ’Course, we could hit a cow,” Del said.
    They rode along for a few minutes, then Lucas said, “You know, I didn’t see any cows.”
    “Come to think of it, neither did I.”
    Another minute, and Lucas said, “They must’ve named Moose Bay after something. Maybe we’ll hit a moose.”
    Del didn’t answer. Lucas glanced over at him, found him staring out the window.
    “What?”
    “My God. Look at the lights. Northern lights.”
    Lucas couldn’t see them from the south side of the car, so he stopped, and they both got out and stood next to the idling Olds. The stars were so close that they looked like headlights on a city highway, but the real show was to the north, where a rippling curtain of pale yellow and even paler violet hung from the vault of the sky. The curtain moved, swayed, brightened and then faded, and thenexploded in another sector. They stood on the highway watching, until the cold began to seep into their shoulders, and then they got back in the Olds and took off.
    Del still watched from his window, and finally he sighed and said, “Too much light to see them in the Cities. I mean, you can see them, but not like this.”
    “I can see them pretty good from my cabin,” Lucas said.
    “So goddamn bright that you don’t need your headlights,” Del said.
    “Yeah?” Lucas reached out and turned off the headlights. They were immediately hurtling through a darkness so intense that it should have had Elvis paintings on it.
    “Turn the fuckin’ lights back on,” Del said after a few seconds. “There might be a curve somewhere.”
    “No curves,” Lucas said. “I could tie the wheel