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She put the short barrel of the.38 against her temple, then reconsidered. A shot like that wasnt always effective. She wanted her money to help women who had been hurt, not to pay for her care as she lay unconscious year after year in some home for human vegetables.

The mouth, that was better. Surer.

The barrel was oily against her tongue, and she could feel the small nub of the sight digging into the roof of her mouth.

Ive had a good life-pretty good, anyway-and although I made a terrible mistake at the end of it, maybe that wont be held against me if theres something after this.

Ah, but the night wind was very sweet. So were the fragile fragrances it carried through the half-open drivers side window. It was a shame to leave, but what choice? It was time to go.

Tess closed her eyes, tightened her finger on the trigger, and that was when Tom spoke up. It was strange that he could do that, because Tom was in her Expedition, and the Expedition was at the other brothers house, almost a mile down the road from here. Also, the voice she heard was nothing like the one she usually manufactured for Tom. Nor did it sound like her own. It was a cold voice. And she-she had a gun in her mouth. She couldnt talk at all.

She was never a very good detective, was she?

She took it out. Who? Doreen?

In spite of everything, she was shocked.

Who else, Tessa Jean? And why would she be a good one? She came from the old you. Didnt she?

Tess supposed that was true.

Doreen believes Big Driver didnt rape and kill those other women. Isnt that what you wrote?

Me, Tess said. Im sure. I was just tired, thats all. And shocked, I suppose.

Also guilty.

Yes. Also guilty.

Do guilty people make good deductions, do you think?

No. Perhaps they didnt.

What are you trying to tell me?

That you only solved part of the mystery. Before you could solve all of it-you, not some clich?-ridden old lady detective-something admittedly unfortunate happened.

Unfortunate? Is that what you call it? From a great distance, Tess heard herself laugh. Somewhere the wind was making a loose gutter click against an eave. It sounded like the 7Up sign at the deserted store.

Before you shoot yourself, the new, strange Tom said (he was sounding more female all the time), why dont you think for yourself? But not here.

Where, then?

Tom didnt answer this question, and didnt have to. What he said was, And take that fucking confession with you.

Tess got out of the truck and went back inside Lester Strehlkes house. She stood in the dead mans kitchen, thinking. She did it aloud, in Toms voice (which sounded more like her own all the time). Doreen seemed to have taken a hike.

Als housekey will be on the ring with his ignition key, Tom said, but theres the dog. You dont want to forget the dog.

No, that would be bad. Tess went to Lesters refrigerator. After a little rummaging, she found a package of hamburger at the back of the bottom shelf. She used an issue of Uncle Henrys to double-wrap it, then went back into the living room. She plucked the confession from Strehlkes lap, doing it gingerly, very aware that the part of him that had hurt her-the part that had gotten three people killed tonight-lay just beneath the pages. Im taking your ground chuck, but dont hold it against me. Im doing you a favor. It smells spunky-going-on-rotten.

A thief as well as a murderer, Little Driver said in his droning deadvoice. Isnt that nice.

Shut up, Les, she said, and left. 43 -

Before you shoot yourself, why dont you think for yourself?

As she drove the old pickup back down the windy road to Alvin Strehlkes house, she tried to do that. She was starting to think Tom, even when he wasnt in the vehicle with her, was a better detective than Doreen Marquis on her best day.

Ill keep it short, Tom said. If you dont think Al Strehlke was part of it-and I mean a big part-youre crazy.

Of course Im crazy, she replied. Why else would I be trying to convince myself that I didnt shoot the wrong man when I know I did?

Thats guilt talking, not logic, Tom replied. He sounded maddeningly smug. He was no innocent little lamb, not even a half-black sheep. Wake up, Tessa Jean. They werent just brothers, they were partners.

Business partners.

Brothers are never just business partners. Its always more complicated than that. Especially when youve got a woman like Ramona for a mother.

Tess turned up Al Strehlkes smoothly paved driveway. She supposed Tom could be right about that. She knew one thing: Doreen and her Knitting Society friends had never met a woman like Ramona Norville.

The pole light went on. The dog started up: yark-yark, yarkyarkyark. Tess waited for the light to go out and the dog to quiet down.

Theres no way Ill ever know for sure, Tom.

You cant be certain of that unless you look.

Even if he knew, he wasnt the one who raped me.

Tom was silent for a moment. She thought hed given up. Then he said, When a person does a bad thing and another person knows but doesnt stop it, theyre equally guilty.

In the eyes of the law?

Also in the eyes of me. Say it was just Lester who did the hunting, the raping, and the killing. I dont think so, but say it was. If big brother knew and said nothing, that makes him worth killing. In fact, Id say bullets were too good for him. Impaling on a hot poker would be closer to justice.

Tess shook her head wearily and touched the gun on the seat. One bullet left. If she had to use it on the dog (and really, what was one more killing among friends), she would have to hunt for another gun, unless she meant to try and hang herself, or something. But guys like the Strehlkes usually had firearms. That was the beauty part, as Ramona would have said.

If he knew, yes. But an if that big didnt deserve a bullet in the head. The mother, yes-on that score, the earrings were all the proof I needed. But theres no proof here.

Really? Toms voice was so low Tess could barely hear it. Go see. 44 -

The dog didnt bark when she clumped up the steps, but she could picture it standing just inside the door with its head down and its teeth bared.

Goober? What the hell, it was as good a name for a country dog as any. My names Tess. I have some hamburger for you. I also have a gun with one bullet in it. Im going to open the door now. If I were you, Id choose the meat. Okay? Is it a deal?

Still no barking. Maybe it took the pole light to set him off. Or a juicy female burglar. Tess tried one key, then another. No good. Those two were probably for the trucking office. The third one turned in the lock, and she opened the door before she could lose her courage. She had been visualizing a bulldog or a Rottweiler or a pit bull with red eyes and slavering jaws. What she saw was a Jack Russell terrier who was looking at her hopefully and thumping its tail.

Tess put the gun in her jacket pocket and stroked the dogs head. Good God, she said. To think I was terrified of you.

No need to be, Goober said. Say, wheres Al?

Dont ask, she said. Want some hamburger? I warn you, it may have gone off.

Give it to me, baby, Goober said.

Tess fed him a chunk of the hamburger, then came in, closed the door, and turned on the lights. Why not? It was only her and Goober, after all.

Alvin Strehlke had kept a neater house than his younger brother. The floors and walls were clean, there were no stacks of Uncle Henrys Swap Guide, and she actually saw a few books on the shelves. There were also several clusters of Hummel figures, and a large framed photo of Momzilla on the wall. Tess found that a touch suggestive, but it was hardly proof positive. Of anything. If there was a photo of Richard Widmark in his famous Tommy Udo role, that might be different.

What are you smiling about? Goober asked. Want to share?

Actually, no, Tess said. Where should we start?

I dont know, Goober said. Im just the dog. How about some more of that tasty cow?

Tess fed him some more meat. Goober got up on his hind legs and turned around twice. Tess wondered if she were going insane.

Tom? Anything to say?

You found your underpants at the other brothers house, right?

Yes, and I took them. Theyre torn and Id never want to wear them again even if they werent but theyre mine.

And what else did you find besides a bunch of undies?

What do you mean, what else?

But Tom didnt need to tell her that. It wasnt a question of what she had found; it was a question of what she hadnt: no purse and no keys. Lester Strehlke had probably thrown the keys into the woods. It was what Tess herself would have done in his place. The bag was a different matter. It had been a Kate Spade, very pricey, and inside was a sewn-in strip of silk with her name on it. If the bag-and the stuff in the bag-wasnt at Lesters house, and if he didnt throw it into the woods with her keys, where is it?

I vote for here, Tom said. Lets look around.

Meat! Goober cried, and did another pirouette. 45 -

Where should she start?

Come on, Tom said. Men keep most of their secrets in one of two places: the study or the bedroom. Doreen might not know that, but you do. And this house doesnt have a study.

She went into Al Strehlkes bedroom (trailed by Goober), where she found an extra-long double bed made up in no-nonsense military style. Tess looked under it. Nada. She started to turn toward the closet, paused, then pivoted back to the bed. She lifted the mattress. Looked. After five seconds-maybe ten-she uttered a single word in a dry flat voice.

Jackpot.

Lying on the box spring were three ladies handbags. The one in the middle was a cream-colored clutch that Tess would have recognized anywhere. She flipped it open. There was nothing inside but some Kleenex and an eyebrow pencil with a cunning little lash-comb hidden in the top half. She looked for the silk strip with her name on it, but it was gone. It had been removed carefully, but she saw one tiny cut in the fine Italian leather where the stitches had been unpicked.

Yours? Tom asked.

You know it is.

What about the eyebrow pencil?

They sell those things by the thousands in drugstores all over Amer-

Is it yours?

Yes. It is.

Are you convinced yet?

I Tess swallowed. She was feeling something, but she wasnt sure what it was. Relief? Horror? I guess I am. But why? Why both of them?

Tom didnt say. He didnt need to. Doreen might not know (or want to admit it if she did, because the old ladies who followed her adventures didnt like the ooky stuff), but Tess supposed she did. Because Mommy fucked both of them up. Thats what a psychiatrist would say. Lester was the rapist; Al was the fetishist who participated vicariously. Maybe he even helped with one or both of the women in the pipe. Shed never know for sure.

It would probably take until dawn to search the whole house, Tom said, but you can search the rest of this room, Tessa Jean. He probably destroyed everything from the purse-cut up the credit cards and tossed them in the Colewich River, would be my guess-but you have to make sure, because anything with your name on it would lead the police right to your door. Start with the closet.

Tess didnt find her credit cards or anything else belonging to her in the closet, but she did find something. It was on the top shelf. She got off the chair shed been standing on and studied it with growing dismay: a stuffed duck that might have been some childs favorite toy. One of its eyes was missing and its synthetic fur was matted. That fur was actually gone in places, as if the duck had been petted half to death.

On the faded yellow beak was a dark maroon splash.

Is that what I think it is? Tom asked.

Oh Tom, I think so.

The bodies you saw in the culvert could one of them have been a childs body?

No, neither of them had been that small. But maybe the culvert running beneath Stagg Road hadnt been the Strehlke brothers only body dump.

Put it back on the shelf. Leave it for the police to find. You need to make sure he doesnt have a computer with stuff on it about you. Then you need to get the hell out of here.

Something cold and wet nuzzled Tesss hand. She almost screamed. It was Goober, looking up at her with bright eyes.

More meat! Goober said, and Tess gave him some.

If Al Strehlke has a computer, Tess said, you can be sure its password-protected. And his probably wont be open for me to poke around in.

Then take it and throw it in the goddam river when you go home. Let it sleep with the fishes.

But there was no computer.

At the door, Tess fed Goober the rest of the hamburger. He would probably puke it all up on the rug, but that wasnt going to bother Big Driver.

Tom said, Are you satisfied, Tessa Jean? Are you satisfied you didnt kill an innocent man?

She supposed she must be, because suicide no longer seemed like an option. What about Betsy Neal, Tom? What about her?

Tom didnt answer and once again didnt need to. Because, after all, he was she.

Wasnt she?

Tess wasnt entirely sure about that. And did it matter, as long as she knew what to do next? As for tomorrow, it was another day. Scarlett OHara had been right about that much.

What mattered most was that the police had to know about the bodies in the culvert. If only because somewhere there were friends and relatives who were still wondering. Also because

Because the stuffed duck says there might be more.

That was her own voice.

And that was all right. 46 -

At seven-thirty the next morning, after less than three hours of broken, nightmare-haunted sleep, Tess booted up her office computer. But not to write. Writing was the farthest thing from her mind.