Storm Prey

about bald,” Lucas said.
    “Then he got that way since the weekend,” Melicek said. “Last time I saw him, he, well, he looked like that drawing.”
    Shrake said, “If you weren’t short, fat, and male, I’d kiss you on the lips.”
    “Hey, that’s okay,” Melicek said. “I can live without it.”

7
    BACK AT LUCAS’S OFFICE, late now, they went to the computers, looking for Joe Mack mug shots, found his driver’s license ID photo—and Melicek had been telling the truth. When the ID photo was taken, Joe Mack had a full head of hair and a curly reddish-blond beard. Lucas pulled the photo up as a .jpg, called Letty, his daughter, a night owl, on her cell phone, and said, “I’m going to e-mail you a .jpg. Get your mom to look at it. Get her on the phone.”
    “I think she’s in bed.”
    “Ah, poop.”
    “But she says she’s not working early tomorrow. I could get her up.”
    “See if she’s sound asleep. If she’s not, get her up.”
    He sent the photo along and then Letty came back and said, “She wasn’t asleep. She’s coming.”
    “You got the photo . . .”
    She said, “Not yet,” and then yelled, “Mom? Mom! Come here.”
    A minute later Weather came on, sounding sleepy, and asked, “What photo?”
    “A guy who could be your robber,” and in the background, he heard Letty say, “Got it.”
    Weather said, “Hang on,” and then, a moment later, “Jeez, Lucas, that could be him. I’m not a hundred percent sure, but it looks like him. I mean, I’m sixty percent.”
    “All right. Is Virgil still there?”
    “Yes. He’s in the front room. Jenkins comes and goes—he’s cruising the neighborhood in his car.”
    “What time do you go in tomorrow?”
    “They’re holding the kids in the Intensive Care. They reevaluate at nine o’clock. I need to be there for that.”
    “Good. We’ll get some sleep. I’ll be home in twenty minutes.”
    He checked the time, decided not to call Marcy. There wouldn’t be much to do in the middle of the night. He’d call her first thing in the morning. To Shrake, he said, “I’ll drop you, you can get some sleep, and meet me back at my place at eight-thirty. Call Jenkins, tell him I’ll be home in fifteen minutes, and he can take off, too. If he wants to come along, we’d appreciate seeing him at eight-thirty.”
    Shrake nodded, pulled his cell phone, and speed-dialed Jenkins. “We’re going after Joe?”
    “I’ll talk to Marcy tomorrow, decide what we want to do. Weather couldn’t give us a hundred percent, based on the photo, but she thinks it looks like him. We’ll have to talk, before we hit him.”
    Shrake nodded, got Jenkins up. “Got a break, big guy. Well, you know, I was doing the investigating. Davenport was backing me up...”

    SNOW WAS SPITTING down the street when they got to Lucas’s place, small nasty hard crystals that ricocheted off the windshield and over the top. Jenkins’s Crown Vic was parked in front of the neighbor’s house, a curl of exhaust coming out the back, and its headlights flicked a couple of times when Lucas turned in the driveway. Lucas blinked his own lights, paused to let Shrake out, said, “See you tomorrow,” eased around Virgil’s 4Runner, and pulled into the garage.
    Inside the house, Virgil was standing by the kitchen arch when Lucas came in the back door; he and Letty had been watching television when they saw the lights in the driveway. “It’s quiet,” Virgil said. “Weather’s in bed. What’s the story on the photo?”
    Lucas peeled off his coat and told Virgil and Letty about the day. When he was done, Virgil said, “It sounds like ninety percent that he’s the guy, forty percent that we could convict him.”
    “Yeah, but these guys aren’t exactly geniuses, either,” Lucas said. “We’ll set up surveillance with the gang guys and the Minneapolis cops, then we go in tomorrow and bust Joe’s chops. See what he does. Maybe we’ll panic him.”
    “I’ll stick with Weather,” Virgil said. “She thinks she’ll be downtown all day.”
    Lucas said, “Don’t forget, there has to be an inside guy. Stick close.”
    “Close as they’ll let me,” Virgil said. “They get antsy about guns.”
    Letty said, “Mom’s pretty worried about the twins. She was talking to Gabriel tonight about which was worse, going slow or going fast. She says if they guess wrong, Sara’s going to die.”
    “She’s a little more involved this time,” Lucas said.
    “A lot more