The Bodies Left Behind

solitary confinement, forever. But if you do cooperate you’ll stay out of a super-prison, probably go to medium security. You may have the chance to see life outside before you’re too old to appreciate it.”
    “Can I see my children? I’ll agree if I can see my children.”
    “No,” Brynn said firmly. “That’s not in their interest.”
    This troubled Michelle for a moment but then she asked brightly, “A nicer cell? I’ll get a nicer cell?”
    “Yes.”
    “And all I have to do is confess?”
    “Well, that’s part of it,” replied Brynn, as Michelle stared at the place on the camera where the glowing red eye had been.

    BRYNN MCKENZIE SAT in the lunchroom of the Kennesha County Sheriff’s Department, opposite Tom Dahl, who was reading through the transcript of the interview. The chairs were small, almost like the chairs at Joey’s school. Dahl’s body overhung his considerably. Brynn’s did not. Her issue was tummy, not thigh.
    Brynn was looking over her upside-down notes and the transcript.
    Dahl startled her by slapping the transcript and looking up. “Well, you got yourself a confession. Good job. And won’t cost us much in terms of a plea. She’ll go into Sanford? Medium-sec?”
    “No furloughs, though. She sees the kids only if the social worker okays it.”
    “And twenty-five minimum, no parole.”
    Dahl ate some macaroni. “You’re not hungry?”
    “No.”
    “What about Hart? She say anything about him?”
    “Hardly a word.”
    “Maybe he’s just gone away.”
    She laughed. “I don’t think people like him do that. They may hide out for a while but they don’t beam themselves off the planet, like Star Wars. ”
    “That was Star Trek. TV show. Before your time.”
    Brynn said, “Well, too bad he can’t. Somebody better find him fast, the FBI or Minneapolis PD or somebody. For his own sake.”
    “Why’s that?”
    “Apparently he’s on a few lists. He’s done work for a lot of people who don’t want him caught—professional hits and robberies, extortion. Now the word’s out that he might get collared for the Lake Mondac thing, they’re afraid he’ll roll over. And Compton Lewis’s family aren’t real happy either about what happened to their kin.”
    Dahl looked at her notes. She studied his baby skin. His face looks younger than mine, even subtracting the broken jaw and the buckshot wound.
    Where’s the justice in life?
    “Why’d a pro like Hart get involved in somethingsmall like this, with the Kepler woman?” Dahl asked. “Money? Sex? That woman wasn’t ugly.”
    “You don’t think so?”
    The sheriff laughed.
    Brynn said, “Don’t think either of those would’ve swayed him. You want my opinion? He was bored.”
    “Bored?”
    “He was between jobs. It came along. He wanted a rush.”
    Dahl nodded and wasn’t smiling when he said, “You,” pointing a dramatic finger at her.
    She blinked. “Me?”
    “Just like you.” The sheriff waved his arm around the department. “Well, you don’t exactly do this for the money. You like the excitement, don’tcha?”
    “I do it ’cause I love my boss.”
    “Heh. So what’s next? You’re going after Hart, I assume. I need to beg the county supervisor for a budget increase?”
    “Nope. I’m leaving the whole thing to the State Police to follow up on.”
    Dahl stopped the massage. “You are?”
    “We’ve got enough going on here.”
    “Am I hearing this right?”
    “They find Hart, I’ll interview him, you bet I will. But I’ve done my bit. Anyway, you need somebody on the ground in the perp’s turf. It’s local contacts that solve cases.”
    “You just wanted to say that. ‘On the ground.’ Okay, ship everything to the state boys. You’re sure about this?”
    “I am.”
    A deputy stuck his head into the lunchroom. “Hey, Brynn. Sorry to bother your lunch.”
    “Yeah?”
    “We just brought that guy in, the one hanging around the schools. You want to talk to him? You said you did.”
    “Sure. What’d you get him for?”
    “Fly was undone.”
    “He waive his rights?”
    “Yep. He has an explanation.”
    Dahl guffawed. “Sure he’s got an explanation—he’s a goddamn pervert.”
    Brynn told him, “I’ll be right there.”

    THE TALL MAN with broad shoulders and a crew cut was standing on the ladder leaning against the old but well-maintained colonial house in a pretty neighborhood south of Humboldt. It was a clear, cool Saturday morning and tasks like this were being replayed