Secret Prey

people,’’ Lucas said.
    After a moment of stunned silence, the sheriff said, ‘‘Eight?’’
    Lucas nodded.
    ‘‘God in heaven.’’
    And Landis stood up and looked at the sheriff and said, ‘‘Old George did a lot more damage than we knew about. You shoulda killed him.’’
    The older man pushed himself away from the wall. ‘‘So what’re we going to do about tonight?’’
    Lucas shrugged. ‘‘Nothing happened to me. If you guys want to say nothing happened, nothing happened.’’
    The sheriff took a quick eye-poll, then nodded to Lucas: ‘‘Nothing happened.’’
    ‘‘If we need to talk to you again, an assistant county attorney’ll be calling,’’ Lucas said. ‘‘I’ll give you a warning call ahead of time.’’
    ‘‘I appreciate it,’’ the sheriff said. ‘‘I’d also appreciate it if you’d get the hell out of my town.’’
    ‘‘We’re going tomorrow morning,’’ Lucas said.
    ‘‘And I surely wish you hadn’t taken Larry out in the parking lot. I’m always shorthanded when the snow starts to fly.’’
    ‘‘Sorry.’’
    ‘‘But not too sorry,’’ the sheriff said.
    ‘‘Not too,’’ Lucas agreed, and grinned at him.
    The sheriff showed the faintest hint of a smile, and eased out the door. The older man was the last to leave, and at the threshold, he turned and looked at Sherrill, and then back at Lucas. ‘‘I once had a woman looked just about like that,’’ he said to Lucas. ‘‘When I was just about your age.’’
    ‘‘Oh yeah?’’
    ‘‘Yeah.’’ He gave Sherrill a long look, and said, ‘‘She flat wore me out.’’
    ‘‘Better to wear out than to rust,’’ Sherrill said, from her corner.
    ‘‘Yeah.’’ And he laughed, a nasty laugh for an old codger, and closed the door.

TWENTY-SEVEN

    THE SUN WAS ONLY TWO OR THREE FINGERS ABOVE the western horizon, the evening rush already starting, when Lucas and Sherrill dropped past the Dunwoody exit on I-394, zigged a couple of times, and rolled into downtown Minneapolis.
    ‘‘Now that was a road trip,’’ Sherrill said, enthusiastically. ‘‘Fightin’, fuckin’, and detectin.’ So what’s next?’’
    ‘‘I’ve got to work tomorrow,’’ Lucas said. ‘‘You’re working, right?’’
    ‘‘Yeah—but there’s not much going on. I could probably get away to help, if you needed me . . .’’
    He shook his head: ‘‘Better not. I told you about the little talk with Rose Marie.’’
    ‘‘I might have a little talk with Rose Marie myself,’’ she said with a flash of anger. ‘‘Pisses me off.’’
    ‘‘Probably wouldn’t help.’’
    ‘‘It’d make me feel better,’’ Sherrill said.
    ‘‘Do what you want,’’ Lucas said. ‘‘And when you get a minute, send me a memo on the whole sequence up there in Oxford. All the details. Make a copy for yourself. Take both copies over to the government center, have them notarized for date, but don’t let anybody read them.’’
    ‘‘Just in case?’’
    ‘‘Can’t tell what’s gonna happen yet.’’
    ‘‘When you say all the details, you want the part where I said, ‘Oh my God, put it in, put it in’?’’
    ‘‘I don’t remember that,’’ Lucas said.
    ‘‘I think you were looking at your watch. We’re gonna have to talk about that, by the way.’’
    Lucas shook his head: ‘‘Christ, I’m beginning to understand what that old guy meant.’’
    ‘‘What old guy?’’
    ‘‘You know, the old deputy, who once had a woman like you. ‘Flat wore me out,’ he said.’’
    She looked at him critically: ‘‘You still got a little good tread on you.’’
    LUCAS KISSED HER GOODBYE OUTSIDE CITY HALL— what the hell—and went down to his office, whistling, picked up the phone and got the brrnk-brrnk-brrnk message signal. The mechanical operator said there were six: all six were from Helen Bell, frantic, accusatory.
    ‘‘Did you do this with Connie? Did you call Child Protection? Why? Why? Please, please call me . . .’’ and ‘‘Why aren’t you calling? Did you do this? I’m getting a lawyer, goddamn you . . .’’
    He punched in her phone number and the phone at the other end was snatched up halfway through the first ring. ‘‘Hello?’’ Still frantic.
    ‘‘This is Lucas Davenport. What happened with Connie?’’
    A moment of uncertain silence. ‘‘You didn’t have anything to do with Connie?’’
    ‘‘Mrs. Bell, I haven’t even thought of Connie since I last saw