Where are the children?

'I'm sorry, ma'am. We have no way of knowing that. In fact, we're having a lot of trouble generally. Most of the phones in town are out because of the storm. What is the problem?'

'I've got to know where that call came from. I've got to know.'

'There is no way we can trace the call once the co

Numbly, Nancy put down the receiver.

'Somebody may have broken that co

' Nancy, are you sure?'

'Mrs Eldredge, you're kind of strung-up and upset.' Bernie Mills tried to make his voice soothing.

Nancy ignored him. 'Dorothy, Michael said, "We're at…" He knows where he is. He can't be far away. Don't you see that? And he says Missy's sick.'

From far off, she was hearing something else. Lisa is sick… She doesn't feel right. She had said that to Carl long ago.

'What is the number of the police station?' Nancy asked Bernie Mills. She pushed back the waves of weakness that were like clouds of fog inside her head. It would be so easy to lie down… to slip away. Right now someone was with Michael and Missy… someone who was hurting them… maybe was doing to them what had happened before. No… no… she had to find them… She mustn't get sick… She had to find them.

She grasped the edge of the table to steady herself. She said quietly, 'You may think I'm hysterical, but I am telling you that was my son's voice. What is the number of the police station?'

'Call KL five, three eight hundred,' Bernie said reluctantly. She's really flipped, he thought. And the Chief would have his head for not having got to the phone. She imagined it was the kid… but it could have been anybody, or even a crank.

The number rang once. A crisp voice said 'Adams Port Police Headquarters. Sergeant… speaking.' Nancy started to say, 'Chief Coffin,' and realized that she was speaking into nothingness. Impatiently, she jiggled the phone. 'It's dead,' she said. 'The phone is dead.'

Bernie Mills took it from her. 'It's dead, all right. I'm not surprised. Probably half the houses don't have phones by now. This is some storm.'

'Take me to the police station. No, you go; if the phone comes back on and Michael can call again… Please go to the police station, or is someone outside?'

'I don't think so. The television van went to the station house too.'

"Then you go. We'll stay here. Tell them Michael phoned. Tell them to bring Rob Legler here. We've got to wait.'

'I can't leave you.'

' Nancy, how sure are you it was Michael?'

'I'm sure. Dorothy, please believe me. I'm sure. It was Michael. It was. Officer. Please. How far is the station in your car?… Five minutes. You'll be gone ten minutes in all. But make them bring Rob Legler here. Please.'

Bernie Mills thought carefully. The Chief had told him to stay here. But with the phone out, there wouldn't be messages. If he brought Nancy with him, the Chief might not like it. If he left and came right back, he'd be gone a total of ten minutes, and if that ever was the kid on the phone and he didn't report it…

He considered asking Dorothy to drive to the station, then discarded the idea. The roads were too icy. She looked so upset that the odds were she'd crack up her car.

'I'll go,' he said. 'Stay right here.'

He didn't take time to look for his coat, but ran out the back door to the patrol car.

Nancy said, 'Dorothy, Michael knew where he was. He said, "We're at…" What does that mean to you? If you're on a street or a road, you say, "We're on Route 6A," or "we're on the beach," or "we're on the boat"; but if you're in a house or store, you know you say, "We're at Dorothy's house," or "We're at Daddy's office." Do you see what I mean? Oh, Dorothy, there must be some way to know. I keep going over things. There must be something… some way to know.

'And he said that Missy is sick. I almost didn't let her go out this morning. I thought about it. I thought about it. Was it too cold; was it too windy? But I hate to think about them being sick or to baby them about being sick, and I know why now. It was because of Carl and the way he examined them… and me. He was sick. I know that now. But that's why I let Missy out. It was damp and too cold for her. But I thought just half an hour. And it was because of that. And I got her red mittens, the ones with the smile faces, and I told her to be sure to keep them on because it was so cold. I remember thinking that for a change she had a matching pair. But she did lose one by the swing. Oh, God, Dorothy, if I hadn't let them out! If I had kept them in because she was getting sick… But I didn't want to think about that… Dorothy -'

Nancy spun around at Dorothy's strangled cry. Dorothy's face was working convulsively. 'What did you say?' she demanded. 'What did you say… about the mittens?'

'I don't know. Do you mean – that she lost one – or that they matched? Dorothy, what do you mean?… What do you know?'

With a sob, Dorothy covered her face. '1 know where they are. Oh God, I know… and I was so stupid. Oh, Nancy, what have I done? Oh, what have I done?' She reached into her pocket and pulled out the mitten, it was there… this afternoon on the floor of the garage… and I thought I'd kicked it out. And that awful man… I knew there was something about him; the way he smelted so sour… so evil… and that baby powder. Oh, my God!'

Nancy grabbed the mitten. 'Dorothy, please help me. Where did you find that mitten?'

Dorothy sagged limply. 'At the Lookout, when I was showing it today.'

"The Lookout… where that Parrish man lives. I don't think I've ever seen him except from a distance. Oh, no!' In an instant of total clarity, Nancy saw truth and realized it might be too late. 'Dorothy, I'm going to The Lookout. Now… the children are there. Maybe. Maybe I'll be in time. You go for Ray and the police. Tell them to come. Can I get into the house?'

Dorothy's shaking stopped. Her voice became as calm as Nancy 's. Later – later, for the rest of her life – she could indulge in self-recrimination… but not this minute. 'The kitchen door has a bolt. If he put it on, you can't get in. But the front door, the one on the bay side – he never uses it. I never gave him a key. This will open both locks.' She dug into her pocket and came out with a set. 'This one.'

She did not question Nancy 's decision to go alone. Together the women raced out the back door towards the cars. Dorothy let Nancy pull out first. She caught her breath as Nancy 's car lurched, skidded and then righted itself.

It was almost impossible to see. The sleet had formed a thick ice shield against the window. Nancy rolled down her side window. Glancing out of it, squinting against the pelting sleet, she raced the car down the road, across Route 6A and down the street that led to the cut-off for The Lookout.

As she started up the winding incline, the car began to slip. She floored the gas pedal and the front wheels skidded, twisting the car on the icy road. Nancy jammed on the brake. The car spun around. Too late, she tried to right it. A tree loomed ahead. She managed to yank the wheel in a half circle. The front end of the car pulled to the right and with a grinding crash hit the tree.

Nancy was thrown forward, then snapped back. The wheels were still spi

At the approach to the driveway, she slipped and fell. Ignoring the sharp pain in her knee, she ran towards the house. Don't let me be too late. Please don't let me be too late. Like clouds breaking before her vision, she could see herself staring down at the slabs at Lisa and Peter… their faces white and bloated from the water… the bits of the plastic bag still sticking to them. Please, she prayed. Please!