Storm Prey

with him. We don’t have anything solid, except some people have definitely dropped off the radar.”
    Lucas filled him in on the trouble in the Twin Cities, and James said, “That’d fit with the rumors out here. I can make a couple calls, see if I can find somebody still in touch with him. Probably won’t be able to get back to you until tomorrow.”
    “Okay. If he’s running, he may be coming back your way,” Lucas said. “Keep it in mind.”
    “I’d prefer to have you hang on to him,” James said.
    Lucas clicked off, told Jenkins and Shrake what James had said, and Jenkins said, “Building a file.”
     
     
    THEY WERE HEADING south on Cretin Avenue when the duty officer called. “I’ve got a mailing address for a Caprice Garner in St. Paul Park.”
    “That’s good, that’s what we’ve got,” Lucas said.
    The duty officer said, “I’m looking at the address on the Google Maps Satellite, and it’s a house.”
    “We heard that he had a room in a house,” Lucas said. “And how many Caprice Garners can there be? We gotta get some people together and take a look at it. Get the SWAT guys out of bed.”
    Shrake asked, “You gonna call Marcy?”
    “Yeah,” Lucas said. “Later.”
     
     
    THEY WERE six BLOCKS from Lucas’s house, so they went on, found Virgil’s truck in the driveway, and Virgil in the kitchen. “Weather’s upstairs,” he said. “She’s tired, drunk, going to bed.”
    “We got a name and address,” Lucas said.
    “Terrific. I’m coming,” Virgil said.
    “Nope, bullshit. We need somebody here.”
    “I’m going,” Shrake said. “I’m SWAT.”
    “So am I,” said Jenkins. “No way I’m sitting on my ass for this one.”
    Virgil wanted to get some St. Paul cops to come sit, but Lucas shook his head: “I trust you. Also, what would happen if Weather or the kids woke up and there were a bunch of strangers in the place?”
    “Goddamnit ...”
    They argued off and on for another ten minutes, with Lucas, Shrake, and Jenkins eating microwave pizza. Lucas snuck into the bedroom and got a set of long underwear; Weather was sound asleep and didn’t stir.
    He snuck back out, down to the basement, got hunting boots, slacks, a wool sweater, parka, and ski gloves. From his gun safe, a twelve-gauge semiauto Beretta shotgun, with two four-shot magazines loaded with four-O buckshot.
    He changed, clumped up the stairs with the gun case in one hand and his work clothes in the other, and Shrake said, “Goin’ huntin’.”
    Virgil said, “Goddamnit, Lucas ...”
    Lucas said, “Stay, boy.”

22
    THEY ALL RENDEZVOUSED at the BCA building; Shrake and Jenkins went to get armored up, and Lucas got his vest. The snow lightened up for a while, then got strong again: the radar showed crescent-shaped waves coming in from the southwest, and it didn’t look like it would quit until morning.
    A cop came in, crusted with snow: “Got the warrant,” he said.
    The duty officer, he said, had yanked a Ramsey County judge out of bed, found out that St. Paul Park was actually in Washington County, and so yanked a Washington County judge out of bed.
    “That’s what judges are for,” Lucas said.
    Lucas looked at his watch. One A.M. Marcy should be sound asleep. If he went without calling her, he would profoundly piss her off. He listened to the SWAT commander talking to the team, laying out maps of the house, pulled off the Internet, decided he’d waited long enough, and went to call her.
    Her phone rang five times, then clicked to a message service. He hung up, let it ring another five times, and this time, he left a message. “We got a fix on the grenade guy. We can’t wait, I’m putting the BCA SWAT guys on line. If you get this, call me—we’re heading for the guy’s house down in St. Paul Park. If you come, you need a four-wheeler and it would be better if you had two or three trucks: it’s a blizzard out here.”
    He figured she’d call back in two minutes. It took a minute and a half: “What’s his name and how did you find him?”
    Lucas gave her the details and said, “We’re ready to launch here. Are you coming?”
    “Lucas, this is my case—”
    “Marcy, bullshit. This guy could pull out of town, it could take us weeks to find him. He might already be gone. We’re going. I’ll be on my phone.”
    “Give me the address ... Goddamnit, Lucas, you did this on purpose.”
    “You can talk to the TV people,” Lucas said.
     
     
    VIRGIL CALLED: “Listen,