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.“This is what she looks like.This is who we’re looking for.”The guy studied it for a few seconds, then handed it to his companion.Later today he’d start handing out stacks of the flyers to the Kickers at the Lodge.They in turn would distribute bunches to all the Kickers they knew, who would spread them to all the Kickers they knew, and so on and so on.He turned back to the newspaper he’d brought along.Still no report of the death of Jerry Bethlehem, or Jeremy Bolton.But he did find mention of an unidentifiable body dragged along the Thruway beneath a truck last night.Could that be Jeremy?He shuddered.From now on, he wasn’t traveling anywhere alone.He’d find a reason to have at least two Kickers with him at all times.Just to be on the up and up, he’d filed missing persons reports with the NYPD on both Jerry Bethlehem and Dawn Pickering.Hank had been surprised at how seriously the cops had taken his reports.He later learned that their disappearance made them prime suspects in Dawn’s mother’s faked suicide.Hank had tried to glean more details but failed.What a damn mess.The only upside was that he’d have both cops andKickers on the lookout for Dawn.His big worry was that she and the baby had died along with Jeremy.But he didn’t think so.Through the night the tenuous link he’d had to Jeremy had been replaced by a link to the baby.He sensed it was alive and well.That meant Dawn was alive and well too.And thus findable.Hank was going to find her first.And then, just as in his dreams, the Kicker Man would snuggle that baby in its arms and protect it from all Enemies.2Dawn eased herself into the warm water of the tub.Like mother, like daughter, right?But Mom hadn’t had a choice.This was Dawn’s idea, her own doing.She felt like total hell.She’d been up all night drinking rum and Diet Pepsi.Sure, the rum wasn’t good for the baby—at least that was what she’d heard—but nowhere near as bad as what was about to happen to both of them.She’d agonized over what to wear until she’d realized she was just delaying the inevitable.She listened for any sounds from the house—like anybody trying to get in.About an hour ago, as she was working up the nerve to get off her butt and do it, she’d heard sounds outside.Thinking it was Jerry, she’d slid back into her hiding place.But it hadn’t been Jerry.Two men, strangers.She didn’t know how they’d got in, but they had, and they were searching the place.They hadn’t said a word, but she’d seen their feet.They went through the whole house, silent as shadows.And then they left.She’d waited a long time before coming out again.Who were they? Had they been looking for her, or for Jerry? Whatever, it had totally spooked her into action.Get it done before someone else came nosing around—like the local cops “processing” the crime scene—and totally ruined her chance.So now, dressed in the same clothes she’d worn all yesterday and last night, she unwrapped the razor blade she’d found in the garage and held it up to the light.It looked so sharp.Little bits of rust flecked the edges.Couldn’t rust give you tetanus? Not that it mattered.Okay… had to get up the nerve to do it.She’d known girls in school who cut their arms with blades like this.How did they do that? Why? Yeah, short, shallow little slices that probably didn’t hurt too much, but it had so never made sense to her.Had to do this now before she totally lost her nerve.She placed the razor’s corner point against her left wrist, just below the base of her thumb, and lowered her arm into the water.Closed her eyes, took a breath, and slashed the blade across.She cried out with the pain.God, that hurt! Hurt like crazy!She opened her eyes and looked.All those glasses of rum and Pepsi threatened to come up when she saw the scarlet billows flowing from her wrist.Scarlet billows… that was in some song Mom used to like…A blast of panic flashed through her as she watched her blood, her life flowing out of her.What had she done? This was crazy.She—No.She so deserved this, had it coming for being a total jerk.No way she could live with herself after all the pain and death and misery she’d caused.She looked at her right wrist.She’d intended to slit that as well but the first cut had hurt too much.And with the way the left was bleeding, she doubted she’d need it.An odd sort of peace slipped over her like a warm blanket.She’d done it.In a few moments her cares and troubles would be totally over.No more worries, no more guilt, no more heartbreak.Just… peace.3Doc Levy looked like hell in the late afternoon light coming through the Argonaut’s window.Off his feed as well.Hadn’t ordered anything but a glass of seltzer.Jack had left voice mail about how they needed to meet—pronto.He’d known something was bothering Levy when he’d called back.Sounded frazzled.Jack had a pretty good idea why.Levy hadn’t been able to get free until now, and so here it was, tour-thirty, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.Jack hadn’t had much sleep either.He’d hunted for Dawn most of the day and come up empty.“Something bothering you?” Jack said.For all he knew, he looked as jumpy as Levy.With good reason, considering what was to come in the next few minutes.“Bothering me?” Levy chugged some seltzer and gave him a funny look.“Don’t you listen to the news?”Jack shook his head.He let Abe filter much of his news.“Depresses me.”“Obviously you haven’t heard then.Remember Doctor Vecca? You met her when—”“I remember.”“Well, she’s dead.Murdered.Head splattered all over her bedroom.”“How awful.”He hoped he sounded sincere.“But you know what’s worse? Maybe I shouldn’t say ‘worse,’ because she’s dead and I’m not—no, it is worse: They found the murder weapon—a tire iron coated with her blood—on the street outside my house.”“Bolton?”He paused, then, “How’d you know?”“Seems to like tire irons.Came after me with one, or have you forgotten?”He ran a shaking hand through his dark hair.“To tell you the truth, I had.His prints were all over it.The blood was Julia’s and traces were found inside his car—also outside my house.”“No wonder you’re upset.”“As if that isn’t enough, someone called the Golden and Dalton families and told them that Bolton had escaped and no one had reported it.They’re screaming bloody murder.That news should be hitting the airwaves any minute.Not that you’d hear.”“Sounds like you’d better catch up to Bolton.Anybody have any idea where he is?”“No.And that’s what frightens me.The local cops and state police are looking for Jerry Bethlehem, who’s listed as the owner of the car.But the agency knows to look for Bolton and has been scouring the area without finding a trace of him.Even sent a couple of agents to comb his girlfriend’s house.Nothing.”Jack wanted to know more about their search.Had they found Dawn? He took an oblique approach.“Well, he either ran off or was given a ride
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