“Rick is a good guy,” Larry said. “Almost normal, for a Fed. I may run this by him on the sly and see what he says.”

“I can’t stop you,” Cody said. “But at least give it until the afternoon. By then, I should be deep into the park where he-or you-can never find me. I don’t want their help with this unless it’s on my terms.”

Larry didn’t agree, but he didn’t argue.

“Look at the bright side,” Larry said. “Your son is likely not a recovering alcoholic.” It was meant to be funny.

“No,” Cody said, “but why is our guy on this particular trip? What is he after, or is it his way of hiding out after his spree? No matter how you cut it, the guy must be a little desperate after all he’s done. I wouldn’t think anyone around him would be very safe,” he said, tapping the file of Jed McCarthy’s clients.

“We still don’t know if he’s on the trip,” Larry said.

“I know,” Cody replied. “Don’t remind me how much of a leap this is.”

“So where are you now?” Larry asked.

Cody said, “Close to the park.”

There was a beat of silence. Larry said, “You’re not going to say, then?”

“Nope.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

Cody said, “Larry, you’re the only guy I trust. But the less you know, the better for both of us. As you said, you’re complicit in every stupid thing I do.”

Larry snorted. “I see your point. But answer me this, cowboy. How in the hell are you going to find this pack trip in the middle of the wilderness?”

Cody said, “I’ve got a plan.”

“I hope it’s a good one.”

Cody said, “Me, too.”

* * *

He showered and left his clothes in a pile on the bathroom floor, and slipped into bed naked. He set his alarm for 3:30 A.M. and called the front desk and requested a wake-up call for the same time.

He knew he wouldn’t sleep. Couldn’t. The things Larry had told him swirled around the dark ceiling, darting in and out of his consciousness. He hoped strands of what he knew would somehow miraculously connect and he’d sit bolt upright with an epiphany and suddenly know the connections as well as the answers.

Didn’t happen.

* * *

What did happen, two hours later, was the slight creak of old flooring outside in the hallway. He turned his head in bed and glanced at the digital clock that showed 2:23 A.M. glowing in red.

When he smelled a sharp odor he thought it must be his breath. Then he recognized it as lighter fluid.

Cody propped up on an elbow and stared at the yellow bar of light beneath the door to his room. He rubbed his eyes and tried to convince himself what was happening was not his imagination. Two shadows of feet were evenly spaced within the bar. Someone was standing just outside. And there was a growing pool of liquid that streamed from under it across the tile floor, rivulets reaching out toward his bed like grasping fingers.

Then the distinct sound of a match being struck.

18

Jed McCarthy liked the way the situation was shaping up. He considered himself a kind of master of managing group dynamics, and he had once again proved himself right. He tried not to act too smug or vainglorious about it, although it wasn’t easy.

It had started out with an hour or so of stories after dinner, after Ted Sullivan had come back from the tents. After he’d had some kind of scene with the youngest daughter. Sullivan had settled back on the log next to Rachel Mina and they shared a long, sad look that told Jed as much as he needed to know about them. Sullivan sat with his head down and his arms hanging between his legs, as if he’d received a slip of paper in a game of charades that said Dejected. Jed had left his place with Dakota behind the cooking station and conspicuously walked around the fire. All the voices quieted and faces turned toward him. He handed Sullivan a bottle of Jim Beam. Sullivan took it, both surprised and grateful for the gesture, and took a long drink that made his eyes water and sparkle from the fire. Sullivan offered the bottle to Rachel, who said, “No thanks.” The man tried to give the bottle back, and Jed said, “Keep it. Have another drink, then pass it around.”

From that moment on, Jed knew he had Sullivan on his side. A gesture was all it took with weak men like Sullivan who weren’t used to them from men who weren’t weak, like Jed. It elevated Sullivan in the eyes of the others that Jed had sought him out like that. The only person who didn’t appear impressed was Rachel Mina, who eyed Jed with caution. Jed pretended not to notice.

He returned to the cooking station and monitored the progress of the bottle as it made its way around the campfire, and soon there were other bottles as well.

Inhibitions lowered as voices rose, and Jed made it a point to keep the fire going but not too brightly. Just bright enough he could see their faces and expressions and confirm they were all on the tracks he wanted them to be on.

He felt Dakota’s eyes on him. She was standing beside him at the cooking station, washing dishes and the pots and pans.

Finally, he glanced over at her and mouthed, What?

She whispered, “What in the hell are you thinking?”