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"For eight, ten seconds I could hear the, just at lower volu way creepy"

"Voices in your head"

"Well, they weren’t telling in to Satan or assassinate the pope"

"Just stay, stay, stay," I said "Like a thought loop"

"No, these were like real voices on a radio At first I thought they were coalow"

"You panned your flashlight over the ceiling," I relow from the audio equipment was reflected in his eyes He didn’t look away fro

I took a deep breath "Because I’ve been wondering After I called you from Dead Town, I started to feel vulnerable out in the open So before I called Sasha, I decide to go into a bungalohere I wouldn’t be so exposed"

"Out of all those houses, why did you pick that one? With Delacroix’s body in the kitchen With the cocoons"

"That’s what I’ve been wondering," I said

"You hear voices, too? Saying, Cohborly, we’ll be hatching soon, come in, join the fun"

"No voices," I said "At least not any I are of But maybe it wasn’t by chance I chose that house Maybe I was drawn to that place instead of the one next door"

"Psychic hoodoo?"

"Like the songs that sea ny to lure unwary sailors to destruction"

"These aren’t sea nys," I said

"I’ot out of that bungalow just in time"

After a silence, he said, "It’s crap like this that takes all the fun out of the end of the world"

"Yeah, I’ to feel like a piece of chum in a school of hammerheads"

The tape was duped I took the copy to the co up a felt-tip pen, said, "What’s a good neo-Buffett song title?"

"Neo-Buffett?"

"It’s what Sasha’s writing these days Jimmy Buffett Tropical bounce, parrothead worldview, fun in the sun--but with a darker edge, a concession to reality"

"‘Tequila Kidneys,’" he suggested

"Good enough"

I printed that title on the label and inserted the cassette nto an empty slot in the rack where Sasha stored her compoitions There were scores of cassettes that looked just like it

"Bro," Bobby said, "if it ever comes to that, you would low my head off, wouldn’t you?"

"Anytime"

"Wait for me to ask"

"Sure And youI feel is in ht now"

I heard a hard snap and a series of clicks, followed by the saain--then the un

Bobby blinked at me "Sasha?"

I went into the candlelit kitchen, saw Manuel Ramirez in his uniform, and knew the sounds I’d heard had been fro at the kitchen table, staring down at one directly, in spite of the diht I had put the pistol on the table when Bobby’s news about Wendy Dulcinea’s kidnapping had left me shaky

"That door was locked," I said to Manuel, as Bobby entered the kitchen behind me

"Yeah," Manuel said He indicated the Glock "You buy this legally?"

"My dad did"

"Your dad taught poetry"

"It’s a dangerous profession"

"Where’d he buy this?" Manuel asked, picking up the pistol

"Thor’s Gun Shop"

"You have a receipt?"

"I’ll get it"

"Never mind"

The door between the kitchen and the downstairs hall swung inward Frank Feeney, one of Manuel’s deputies, hesitated on the threshold For an instant, in his eyes, I thought I saw a veil of yellow light billow like curtains at a pair of s, but it was gone before I could be sure that it had been real "Found a shotgun and a 38 in Halloway’s Jeep," Feeney said

"You boys belong to a right-wing n up for a poetry class," Bobby said "You have a search warrant?"

"Tear a paper towel off that roll," the chief said "I’ll write one out for you"

Behind Feeney, at the far end of the hall, in the foyer, backlit by the stained-glass as a second deputy I couldn’t see hiet in here?" I asked

Manuel stared at h to reoing on?" I dehts," Manuel said, and his smile had all the warmth of a stiletto wound in the belly of a corpse

19

Frank Feeney had a serpent’s face, one without fangs but with no need of fangs because he exuded poison from every pore His eyes had the fixed, cold focus of a snake’s eyes, and his ue could have flicked without causing a start of surprise even in a stranger who’d just met him Before the mess at Wyvern, Feeney had been the rotten apple on the police force, and he was still sufficiently toxic to cast a thousand Snow Whites into colance

"You want us to search the place for more weapons, Chief?" he asked Manuel

"Yeah But don’t trash it too o He’s an orphan now Let’s show hi as if he had just spied a tender er, Feeney turned and swaggered down the hallway toward the other deputy

"We’ll be confiscating all firearal weapons They weren’t used in the coht to seize thehts"

To Bobby, Manuel said, "You think I’m out of line, too?"

"You can do what you want," Bobby said

"Your boardhead buddy here is s Manuel’s self-control, trying to determine if there were any li to engage, Bobby said, "An ugly, psychotic asole with a badge can always do what he wants"

"Exactly," Manuel said

Manuel Raly nor psychotic--is three inches shorter, thirty pounds heavier, twelve years older, and noticeably more Hispanic than I am; he likes country music, while I’lish, while I’ mottoes in Latin; he’s full of political opinions, while I find politics boring and sleazy; he’s a great cook, but the only thing I can do ith food is eat it In spite of all these differences and many others, we once shared a love of people and a love of life that made us friends