At midnight I tried calling Jeffrey again. No answer. I left another message demanding to know where the heck he was and when he was going to get to my house. I hung on to the phone even after the machine clicked off. I needed to talk to him. I’d made a decision. I was going to show him a copy of the manuscript. Dolly too. I didn’t know if they’d get it right away. If they’d understand what this man was doing; what he was saying in his book.

And maybe Courtney. She needed to know.

Ideas and memories buzzed in my brain. Hadn’t Jeffrey said Cecil was out of town the day Amanda slipped into a coma? And he was in plain sight when Lila was shot.

Toomey. That name was like a wasp in my head. Toomey. Nelson. Maybe the same boy/man/friend. This was turning into a puzzle within a riddle, wrapped in a conundrum. Too much to digest that late in the day, when I was so tired.

I shut off the lamp behind me, huddled down into the sofa, and hid in the dark. It wasn’t until at least after one a.m. that I fell asleep. By three I was awake again, listening for a car in the driveway. I checked my answering machine, thinking Jeffrey had called and I’d slept right through the ringing phone. Nothing. I brought a blanket from my bedroom, lay back down on the sofa, welcomed Sorrow when he managed to crawl up beside me, and slept until morning.

At eight I called Jeffrey’s cell. Nothing. I called the police station in Leetsville and got a busy signal. When I tried a few minutes later, Dolly answered.

“Jeffrey was supposed to come here last night … he thought I should have someone in the house with me … he never made it,” I blurted in one long, strung-together sentence, not bothering to identify myself.

“Yeah, Emily. He told me he was stayin’ out there,” Dolly said. “I was worried maybe it was something more than just watching you. You know, you’re kind of weak when it comes to guys.”

“Hey, Dolly, focus, will you? He never showed up. I tried calling him last night and again this morning. Nothing.”

“Hmm.” Dolly switched gears. “Where do you think he got to?”

“No clue.”

“Wasn’t he hell-bent on getting over to that sheep ranch? Judge almost ready to sign the search warrant, is what I heard. He told those lawyers Cecil Hawke sent that this wasn’t New York City where celebrities got different treatment. Lo must’ve known.”

“Then he’s probably out there already. I mean, Jeffrey felt so strongly that he had to get on that ranch, talk to some of the workers, would he be hanging back now? Still, why didn’t he call me?”

“Okay. Look.” Dolly stopped and thought awhile. “I’ll keep trying to get him. What are you doing today? You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m supposed to see Cecil at eleven. There’s a ritual going on. I guess with the sheep. He thinks I’ll enjoy watching.”

“You nuts? After that dead dog at your house?”

“Cecil has no reason to hurt me. I’m not, like, a wife or anything.”

“Get that jackass to go with you?”

“Which jackass?”

“Your ex, Jackson.”

“Cecil’s not going to let Jack back in his house. He knows Jack had an affair with Lila.”

“Yeah, well this book you’re reading for him, you said it’s kind of odd? Isn’t that what you said? Well, like how odd?”

“Well, like …” I mimicked her. “Like his main character’s a killer.”

“And?”

“I don’t know, Dolly. It sounds as if he’s writing about himself …”

“And you never mentioned this before?”

“I signed a confidentiality pledge.”

“What’s that?”

“That I won’t talk about the work to anyone.”

“You just did. And anyway, so what? Don’t you kill off people in your books?”

“But this is different. The main character might be patterned after him, after Cecil. And there’s a friend …”

“Aw geez. Emily.” There was a groan in Dolly’s voice. “We got enough to deal with here.”

“You don’t get it. Think I should show some of the work to Courtney? See if she recognizes anything. I mean …”

“Thought you signed something that you couldn’t do that.”

“I did … but …”

“Up to you, Emily. Whatever you think. I’m not much of a reader. Don’t know if I’d catch what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Maybe I’ll wait, see what he gives me today.”

“You making copies?”

I hesitated, not wanting to admit I’d already broken the agreement.

“Yes.”

“Good for you. That’s the kind of brain you need if you’re gonna keep writin’ mysteries.” She hesitated. “Sure wish I could go with you. I can’t. Cate’s leavin’. I’m takin’ her into Grayling to catch a bus. Actually, to tell you the truth, I’m so mad I feel like lettin’ her walk the fifty miles but … guess not.”

“I’ll call you when I get to Hawke’s house. Just so he knows I’ve told people where I am. And,” I got to the biggest thing on my mind, “if you hear from Jeffrey call me there, at Cecil’s. Probably something came up. Maybe he had to get back to Detroit, to his office …”

“And not let us know? What kinda cop is that?”

“Thanks, Dolly. You’re such a comfort.”

“Emily,” she said before hanging up. “If you’re worried there … I mean, if anything doesn’t seem right to you …”

“I know, Dolly. I’ll leave.”

“And about looking over that farm …”

“It’s the only chance we have. Jeffrey’s not around. Gotta be me.”

“You know what, Emily? Bet anything we hear from Lo today. I wouldn’t worry.”

That was Dolly’s tardy stab at making me feel better.

It didn’t.