Bad Men

He had to tell Moloch. Already, the woman would be preparing to run again.

Willard was surprised by how calm Moloch appeared to be, at least initially. As it turned out, the calm didn’t last long.

“You’re certain it was her?” said Moloch.

“Pretty sure. Her hair is different, and she looked kind of dowdy, but I saw her face as that cab pulled away. She knew me.”

“How? There’s no way that she could have known who you are.”

“Maybe she picked up on me when I was tailing her, back before she ran.”

“If she did, then you’re the shittiest tail I ever knew.”

Willard bridled at the insult but said nothing.

“You should have caught her. Now she knows we’re here.”

“Where can she go? There’s no way she could have made the ferry.”

“You think that’s the only boat down there? They have water taxis. She could go to another island and get someone to bring the kid to her. You think we have time to scour every island for her? Get the others. Describe her to them, and set them to looking for her in town. If nobody has found her by seven, we bring everything forward.” Willard left him. Moloch called Braun in his room. Braun listened, then hung up.

“We need to get going,” he told Dexter.

“The hell are you talking about?” asked Dexter. “This shit is only starting to get good.”

“Willard saw the wife. He thinks she made him.”

Dexter swore, then turned off the TV. They packed up and joined Moloch and the others in his room. Shepherd and Tell had just arrived. Tell still had sugar on his sweater.

“An extra twenty-five thousand for the one who finds her,” said Moloch. He looked at Willard. “And I want her intact, you hear?”

Willard didn’t even nod, but he could see Dexter gri

The cab dropped Maria

They would be expecting her to head back to the island, if only to get Da

Except…

She dialed 911 and told the dispatcher that she had seen a man out by the mall who looked like the guy on TV, you know, the blond guy. She gave an accurate description of Willard’s dress, right down to the baseball cap, then hung up.

That would give them something to think about.

She didn’t have much time. She dropped some coins in the slot and rang Bo

“Hello?” she said.

There was static on the line, but it wasn’t regular static. It ebbed and flowed. At first, it sounded a little like soft cotton being rubbed between someone’s fingers. For an instant, an image came to her unbidden: an insect beating its wings, while around it a host of others did the same in preparation for some great flight.

Then the line died.

She tried again, and got only a busy signal. She tried three more numbers, including Jack’s, with the same result.

Finally, Maria

Shepherd arrived first at the pier, only to see the water taxi disappearing from sight, a tiny puff of smoke seeming to mock him as it went. He removed a pair of binoculars from his pack and found the woman in the prow of the boat. She was, as far as he could make out, the only passenger. As he stared at her, she looked back toward the pier and he was certain that she was looking at him. He thought he could read fear in her eyes.

Tell appeared beside him, and Shepherd smiled.

“She’s going home.”

Willard’s instincts were honed to perfection. He saw the patrol car before the cop inside could spot him, and slipped into the Starbucks in the Old Port, stripping himself of his coat and hat as he went. He didn’t know who they were looking for, but he could guess. The woman had seen him, and she had called the cops to make life difficult for him.

Willard didn’t care. Life had always been difficult for him.

He ordered a coffee, then slipped back out onto the streets and lost himself from view.

As soon as Willard told him of his encounter with Maria

There were two men waiting on the beach, snow already whitening their shoulders and hair. One was Scarfe. The other was Barron.

“So this is the tame cop?”

Moloch looked at the policeman with a mixture of distaste and amusement. Barron was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a padded jacket. He looked uneasy.

“I’m not your tame cop,” he said.

“What would you prefer to be called? Pedophile cop? Child molester cop? Please, let me know. I want you to be as comfortable as possible in your dealings with me.”

Barron’s face flushed, but he didn’t reply.

“You should have been more careful, Officer. Your tastes have made you the bitch of anyone to whom your creditors choose to offer you.”

“Just tell me what you want,” said Barron softly.

Moloch turned to Scarfe. “I’ve heard a lot about you, none of it very impressive. I advise you not to let me down. Now, tell me about the island.”

For the next ten minutes, Scarfe detailed all that he had discovered from Carl Lubey, including the presence and routines of the giant cop, Joe Dupree, and the reported arrival that morning of the rookie cop Macy. (“A rookie?” Moloch had interrupted. “Maybe our luck is holding.”)

“And the woman, Maria

“She’s out there. Her house is over on the southeastern shore. There aren’t too many other houses around there. The boy is with her.”

“Does she have a boyfriend?” asked Moloch.

Scarfe swallowed.

“Lubey says she’s been seen around with the cop Dupree. They had di

Moloch motioned him to continue, but he looked unhappy at the development.

“There’s a boat waiting for you down at the Marine Company. You go in after dark on the northern shore, some ways from the woman’s house. There are no good landings over where she is, except for a little inlet that belongs to an old painter guy who watches the bay like a hawk. You try coming in that way and if he spots you, he’ll start making calls. The sea there is threaded with rocks anyway. Even experienced sailors steer clear of it. You need to stay as far as possible from the dock on Island Avenue on your way in, and from any houses along the shore. Like the painter, people on the island keep a close eye on what happens there, and who comes and goes. The northeastern shore is virtually unpopulated, though. Lubey will meet you at the landing. He has a truck. He’ll take you to the woman’s house, then bring you back to the boat when your business is done. He doesn’t want money. He has one favor to ask.”

“Go on.”

“He wants you to kill Dupree if you get the chance.”

“No cops,” interrupted Barron. “Nobody gets hurt, that was the deal.”

“I don’t remember making a deal with you, Officer,” said Moloch. “You will do as you’re told, or your superiors will receive information that will end your career and make you the whore of every disease-ridden rapist that your state’s prison system can put your way. Don’t interrupt us again.”