Relentless

did.”
    “I never thought you did it intentionally.”
    “Plus I’m a little bit of a celebrity. The story would be all over cable news, my face all over TV. Suddenly I’d be a lot more recognizable than I am now, and it would be harder—maybe impossible—for us to move around anonymously and hide out.”
    “It’s so bad you’ve got to hide out?”
    “Yeah. And another reason I called is—I don’t think this guy will come after you, ’cause you’re not
my
parents, you’re Penny’s folks, you’re probably safe, but take some precautions.”
    “Don’t worry about us, Cub. We’re ready for anything.”
    “I know you are.”
    “We were ready for the country to fall apart back in the seventies, when the crazy government was running seventeen percent inflation and wrecking the economy. We were ready for the AIDS epidemic to wipe out civilization. Then Y2K, all the computers were supposed to crash and send off nuclear missiles. After 9/11, Cupcake and me were for sure ready for the crazy Islams, but they haven’t showed up yet, either. Say … this isn’t the Islams blew up your house, is it?”
    “No, Grim, it isn’t.”
    “You say precautions. Do we look out for anyone in particular?”
    “He’s about forty-one, white hair, stands five feet eight, built like a tank, may or may not be wearing a bow tie.”
    “He tries to come in here, he’s toast. You should come here and hide out with us.”
    “I don’t want to draw him to you guys.”
    “Hell, let’s draw him, Cub. Let’s lure him in and squash him like a bug.”
    “Maybe we will, Grim. When I know more about him. When I have a better handle on him than I do now.”
    “I like the way you sound, Cub. You sound together.”
    “Well, I might not be as together as I sound.”
    “Cupcake, she’s always worried in a crisis you’d be useless.”
    “I won’t hold that against her, Grim. I can see where she might get that idea.”
    “But me,” he said, “I always suspected there’s a secret you, and the secret you has the right stuff.”
    “I appreciate that.”
    “More than once, I’ve said to Cupcake, he can’t be the milksop he seems to be, ’cause his books have a toughness in them.”
    “One more thing, Grim. You can’t reach me by phone. I’m using adisposable, and it’s probably the first of a series, until this thing is done. But Penny or I will check in from time to time.”
    “We won’t miss a call. We’ll be right here. I think for the duration, we’ll go into lockdown. You know what that means?”
    “Yes, I know.”
    “Remember what the Lord said.”
    “He said a lot of things, Grim.”
    “He doesn’t want us harming the innocent, but he gave us ‘the power to tread on serpents.’ This man blows up your house, he sounds like a serpent to me. What do you think?”
    “Definitely a serpent,” I agreed.
    “Then don’t you hesitate to tread on him if you get a chance.”
    In the glass table, the image of my face was like a reflection in a pool of cloudy water, disturbing because its character remained indeterminate. It might have been the face of an earnest pilgrim or that of a fetal demon not yet born to his potential.

   Olivia Cosima, my editor in New York City, was still at lunch when I phoned. I left a voice mail preparing her for the news of our exploding home.
    I also dictated a statement for Olivia to give to my publisher’s publicity department, with which to respond to media inquiries.
    Thankfully, Penny’s editor was also at lunch, so I didn’t have to answer any questions, and I left her a similar voice mail.
    When I returned to the family room, Milo had taken a break from whatever arcane project he pursued on his computer. He stood at the glass wall, staring at the harbor.
    Lassie had emerged from the cabinet. She stood at Milo’s side, also gazing out of the floor-to-ceiling window.
    Neither of them responded when I said that lunch would be in thirty minutes. They seemed to be entranced by the vista of harbor and hills.
    In the kitchen, Penny remained at the secretary with her laptop.
    “I made a complete list of the phrases Waxx used in your review and in John Clitherow’s.”
    The list lay on the kitchen island. I picked it up from the black granite countertop.
    Before I could begin to read, Penny said, “And I found another review … another novelist he savaged in a similar way, not exactly the same language but the same criticisms, and extremely vicious.”
    “Who’s