Secret Prey

ought to be enough time.’’
    ‘‘Jesus Christ, I’d need more time than that,’’ Knox said. ‘‘I can’t do nothing in four hours . . .’’
    ‘‘We don’t have any time. We want to know where this is coming from, and why,’’ Lucas said.
    ‘‘So I can ask—’’
    ‘‘Ask,’’ Lucas said. He held out a business card, and Knox took it. ‘‘Four hours.’’
    ‘‘WE’RE SPINNING OUR WHEELS,’’ LUCAS SAID, AS HE settled behind the wheel of the Porsche.
    ‘‘You know what you gotta do?’’ Del asked.
    Lucas shook his head and started the car.
    ‘‘You gotta talk to Weather,’’ Del said. ‘‘We gotta know that it’s not coming from her direction, instead of ours.’’
    ‘‘Can’t do it,’’ Lucas said.
    ‘‘Get Sherrill to do it,’’ Del said. ‘‘Another woman, that oughta be okay.’’
    ‘‘I’ll think about it,’’ Lucas said.
    ‘‘Gotta do it, unless something comes up,’’ Del said. ‘‘I told the old lady to hang out at her mom’s tonight. Until we find out.’’
    Del had an improbably good marriage, and Lucas nodded. ‘‘Good . . . Goddamnit, I can’t go see Weather.’’
    Del didn’t answer. He simply stared out the passengerside window, watching the darkening fall landscape go by. ‘‘Hate this time of year, waiting for winter,’’ he said finally. ‘‘Cold coming. Wish it was August.’’
    COPS WERE WANDERING IN AND OUT OF LUCAS’S office—nobody had anything—when Knox called back.
    ‘‘You owe me,’’ Knox said. ‘‘I came down on everybody, hard.’’
    ‘‘I said four hours, it’s been six,’’ Lucas said.
    ‘‘Fuck four hours,’’ Knox said. ‘‘I had to take six, because in four I wasn’t getting anything.’’
    Lucas sat up: ‘‘So what’d you get in six?’’
    ‘‘Same thing: nothing,’’ Knox said. ‘‘And that makes me think that whoever did it is nuts. This isn’t a guy , this is some freak. Bet it was a neighborhood kid has the hots for her, or something like that. ’Cause it’s coming out of nowhere.’’
    ‘‘Thanks for nothing,’’ Lucas said.
    ‘‘Hey: I didn’t give you nothing,’’ Knox objected. ‘‘I’m telling you serious: There’s nothing on the street. Nothing. Zippo. This was not a pro job, not a gang job, not bikers. This had to be one guy, for his own reasons. Or we woulda heard.’’
    Lucas thought about it for a minute, said, ‘‘Okay,’’ and dropped the phone on the hook.
    ‘‘What?’’ Sherrill asked. She was parked in a chair across the desk and looked dead tired.
    ‘‘Knox got nothing, says there’s nothing on the street.’’
    ‘‘He’s right.’’
    ‘‘Damn it.’’ He turned in his chair, staring out the window at the early darkness.
    ‘‘Want me to talk to Weather? Del mentioned something . . .’’
    ‘‘Damn it . . .’’ He didn’t answer for a moment, then sighed and said, ‘‘I’m gonna do it.’’
    ‘‘Want me to come along?’’
    ‘‘No . . . well, maybe. Let me talk to her shrink.’’
    ANDI MANETTE WAS ANGRY ABOUT THE INTERVIEW: ‘‘You’re not helping anything.’’
    Lucas’s anger flashed right back: ‘‘Not everything can be resolved by counseling, Dr. Manette. We’ve got somebody throwing firebombs, and I’ve got cops hiding their wives and kids. They’re afraid it’s another comeback from the crazies. I gotta talk to her.’’
    After a moment: ‘‘I can understand that. Weather’s probably at her house right now, salvaging what she can— there’s smoke in everything. It’d be better if you talked to her here, at my place.’’
    ‘‘All right. When? But it’s gotta be soon.’’
    ‘‘I’ll call her. How about . . . Give us two hours.’’
    ‘‘Do you want me to bring another cop? I can bring Marcy Sherrill if that’d help—maybe it’d make it seem more official and less personal. If that’d be good.’’
    ‘‘I don’t know if it’d make any difference, but bring her along. Maybe it’ll help.’’
    HE HADN’T SEEN WEATHER IN ALMOST AMONTH; AND when Lucas walked in the door of Andi Manette’s house, trailed by Sherrill, the sight of her stopped him cold. She was curled in a living room chair, a physical gesture that he knew too well. She was a small woman, and often curled in chairs like a cat, her feet pulled up, her nose in a book— and when she turned toward him, she smiled reflexively and it was almost like everything was . . . okay.
    Then the smile