Riptide

Sam nodded. He looked relieved. Tyler hugged him again.

“What’s the name of the street Goose’s Hardware is on?” Savich asked as he looked at his wife rubbing her knuckles, an eyebrow arched.

“West Hemlock,” Tyler said. “It’s the main street.”

When Tyler McBride finally left, Adam turned to see Sherlock and Savich speaking quietly. Adam said, “Are you guys going to stay here?”

“That’s probably best,” Savich said. “First thing, we’re going to put a tap on this phone. Sherlock said we should bring our goodies. She’s right a lot of the time.” Savich picked up what looked like a very small aluminum suitcase. “This is a dual redundant tape. We’re going to set it right beside the phone recorder. Now, I’m going to patch it into the phone line via the recorder starting switch. Okay, now let’s plug that puppy in between the phone and the outlet in the wall.”

“Goodness,” Becca said. “That’s quite a gadget.”

“Yeah,” Adam said. “You can get it at RadioShack for about twenty bucks.”

“The recorder will start when the phone rings,” Savich said.

“Now for the slammer,” Sherlock said. She pulled out a small case that looked about the size of a laptop. “See this, Becca? It’s an LED—light-emitting diode. When our boy calls his number, the name and address of the person who’s registered as the phone owner will appear here on this green screen. It’s like the automatic phone display for 911.”

“All done, Sherlock?” Savich said, then nodded when she pressed a couple of buttons. “Good. Now I’m going to go meet with the guys, set up a surveillance schedule, tell them about the tap and the trace.”

“Fine,” said Adam. “I’m coming with you. I want to meet them. I don’t want anyone shot by accident. Also, we need to start tracking down our boy. He’s somewhere close.”

“Three of the guys are already on that. They’re checking all the gas stations within fifty miles, all the bed-and-breakfasts, motels, inns. They’ve already gotten a list of every single guy between the ages of twenty and fifty who arrived in Bangor and Portland within the past three days.”

Sherlock yawned. “Becca and I will guard the fort. You guys be careful. Hey, a nap sounds good, what with all the excitement. Is there another usable bedroom in this grandiose monstrosity?”

The men got back to Jacob Marley’s house two hours later. It was dark, nearly nine o’clock in the evening. The house was lit up from top to bottom, all the outdoor lights on as well. The newly stained front door both looked and smelled great.

Sherlock was drinking coffee in the living room, studying a file she’d brought with her from Washington. The shades were drawn tight, which was smart. Becca wasn’t anywhere around. They’d already checked with Perkins. There had been no phone calls.

Adam found Becca in her bedroom. She was lying flat on her back in the middle of the bed, her hands crossed over her stomach. Her eyes were closed but he knew she wasn’t asleep. Her shoulders were locked stiff.

“Becca? You okay?”

“Yeah.”

She felt the bed give when he sat down beside her. “What do you want? Go away. I don’t want to have to look at your pretty face. Has anyone seen him?”

“I don’t have a pretty face. It’s Savich who’s got the pretty face. No, there’s no sign of him yet, just that blood in the woods we found. The guys took samples to be analyzed.”

She cracked her left eye open. “Did everything go all right? Were all the men there? Have they found anything out yet?”

“Yes, all six of them are here, each of them well trained. I know four of them, even worked with a couple of them in the past, so that’s good. They’re all top-notch. It’s just a matter of time until we track him down. All of us have favors owed. We’ll call them all in if necessary. You know, the reason I was here was to protect you from the cops and the Feebs because we knew they couldn’t protect you from the stalker. But things have changed now. The guy’s here and there’s just no choice. We’ve got to get him or you’ll never be safe.”

“Who is this Thomas, Adam? He must be very powerful to be able to have all this guy power up here for one insignificant person, namely me.”

“You’re not insignificant.” He sounded too harsh, too intense, and he clamped his teeth together. “Look, don’t worry about Thomas. He’s doing what he’s got to do. Now, why are you up here, lying down?” He paused a moment. She was dull-eyed, pale again, and it worried him. He looked at his fingernails and said, “But first things first. I’m getting hungry. Any ideas for dinner? It’s nearly nine o’clock. It’s nearly time to go to bed. Oh yeah, that was a good idea to have all the lights on.”