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"It’s partly Mercedes, but also the aftermarket work that went into it This baby is souped"

We rocketed past a guy in a Ferrari, probably on his way to Vegas I think he earing a poofy cap, though it wasn’t green and black

"Hundred and ten," Mrs Fischer said, "and sed

"Radically souped There’s this nice h his na handso, except you tend to tilt your head to one side when you’re talking to hie, insurance agency, souvenir shop, and roadside cafe But he s far at the back end of his property, where he can do anything you want done to a vehicle and then some"

"Why secret?"

In a dramatic but unnecessary whisper, she said, "Because a lot of what One-Ear Bob does to cars breaks the law"

"What law?"

"Oh, all kinds of laeetie Idiot safety laws, bone-headed environmental laws that actually contribute to pollution, the laws of physics, you name it"

"Arizona, huh? Wouldn’t be Lonely Possuht be, o on that oven-hot night?"

"Never youWith all this conversation, my speed’s fallen to a hundred"

From the console between the front seats, I fetched a box of 9-mm ammunition about which Mrs Fischer had told azine of the pistol while resistingin Elsewhere Now I pressed ten rounds into it and locked it into the butt of the weapon

Mile by rew e and withered bunchgrass, with here and there low shapes of rock that looked like the serrated backs and long, flat heads of Jurassic-era crocodiles immense in size, petrified now and half buried in the earth

The low clouds were gray in the east, darker overhead, nearly black in the west Ahead of us, a wedge of birds flew high across the interstate, winging southeast

Pico Mundo, my hometown, lay ht soon be led back there If patterns exist in our seely patternless lives--and they do--then the law of harmony insists that the most harmonious of all patterns, circles within circles, will ht find h which I had been haunted for soaway from Pico Mundo at the moment, and I sensed that the case of the man ould burn children was not the one that would lead me home

I put ten rounds of ammunition in each front pocket of hly as I do, I strangely find ress on my circular journey from loss to acceptance of loss, fron announced the interstate exits to Barstow, a community of military installations, railyards, warehouses, outlet stores, and chain h I intuited that I would find my quarry much deeper in the Mojave than this place, I suddenly said, "Here Exit here He’s done sorace of Mrs Fischer’s expert driving and One-Ear Bob’s improvements to the vehicle, we decelerated as efficiently as if we had reverse rocket thrusters, crossed three lanes in an exquisite arc that brought us to the foot of the exit ramp, and swept into Barstow, home of the Mojave River Valley Museum

We had coer an arhtest sirls and the boy They lived here"

"You mean live here," Mrs Fischer corrected

Taken by a sudden chill, I said, "No, I don’t believe I do"

Seventeen

THE RHINESTONE COWBOY ONCE PROWLED THE STREETS of Barstohat end I thought I knew, but he was gone now, his corrupted and netic spirit an attractant that issued from some nest deeper in the barrens

The superstretch li, eliciting interest e passed other hborhoods according to ht corners with ease

On a street of neatly maintained stucco houses, behind desert-friendly landscapes reliant on succulents and sage, a residence stood in the shade of immense Indian laurels that les of sleeping pythons As nowhere else in the vicinity, cars and SUVs and pickups--and one police sedan--were clustered at the curb and in the driveway Carrying baking pans and casseroles, four wo the street to the front walk of the house On the porch, several gried in what appeared to be an earnest and quiet discussion dealing with soh the s I could see what see of people

"This is where they lived," I said, and Mrs Fischer didn’t need to ask to whom I referred "The cowboy trucker … I don’t think he was ever at this place It’s the children, my o inside, seeking information, I would surely become a suspect I had no authority, no credentials, no reason that I could offer why this stricken faifts, I would be considered at best a kook, at worst a charlatan seeking publicity and an easy path to profit If I inspired suspicion in the police, I h to ensure that I would not find the abducted children in ti was inadvisable, and I said, "Ma’am, let’s ease away from here There’s another place I feel the need to see … if we can find it"

Two blocks later, as I asked her to turn left, Mrs Fischer said, "What do you call it, child?"

"Call what?"

"This bloodhound ability of yours"

For a moment, I considered anshich I could continue to stonewall her