The Sleeping Doll (Kathryn Dance 1)

After his father's death Wes had also grown more shy and reclusive.

"You sure?"

"Maybe later. I don't know. . . . Mom?"

"Yes, dearest son."

An exasperated sigh.

"Yes?"

"How come you've still got your gun?"

Children . . . nothing whatsoever gets by them.

"Forgot all about it. It's going in the safe right now."

"Can I read for a while?"

"Sure. Ten minutes. What's the book?"

"Lord of the Rings." He opened, then closed it. "Mom?"

"Yes?"

But nothing more was forthcoming. Dance thought she knew what was on his mind. She'd talk if he wanted to. But she hoped he didn't; it'd been a really long day.

Then he said, "Nothing," in a tone she understood to mean: There is something but I don't want to talk about it yet. He returned to Middle Earth.

She asked, "Where are the hobbits?" A nod at the book.

"In the Shire. The horsemen are looking for them."

"Fifteen minutes."

" 'Night, Mom."

Dance slipped the Glock into the safe. She reset the lock to a simple three-digit code, which she could open in the dark. She tried it now, with her eyes closed. It took no more than two seconds.

She showered, donned sweats and slipped under the thick comforter, the sorrows of the day wafting around her like the scent of lavender from the potpourri dish nearby.

Where are you? she thought to Daniel Pell. Who's your partner?

What are you doing at this moment? Sleeping? Driving through neighborhoods, looking for someone or something? Are you planning to kill again?

How can I figure out what you have in mind, staying close?

Drifting off to sleep, she heard in her mind lines from the tape she and Michael O'Neil had just listened to.

"And I don't have any children myself, either. That's a regret, I must say. . . . But I'm a young man. I've got time, right?"

"Oh, if you get your act together, Daniel, there's no reason in the world you couldn't have a family of your own."

Dance's eyes opened. She lay in bed for a few minutes, staring at a configuration of shadows on the ceiling. Then, pulling on slippers, she made her way into the living room. "Go back to sleep," she said to the two dogs, who nonetheless continued to watch her attentively for the next hour or so as she prowled once again through the box that Morton Nagle had prepared for her.

TUESDAY

Chapter 21