She rocked, eyes closed, trying to bring it back.

“Wintertime—I can’t say just when. But the young ones were building me a snowman right out here, and thinking of the ages, I’m guessing five or six years ago this was. My grandson—the police, you know—was shoveling off my steps, my walk, and he was wearing the scarf I made him and gave him for Christmas, so it was after that. I was out here supervising—brought the young ones a carrot for the snowman’s nose—and she drove up.”

She opened her eyes again, nodding as she looked at Reed. “I could tell she was annoyed right off when she got out because the walk over there hadn’t been done. I called out to her, asked if she wanted one of my kids to do some shoveling, as the girl who did for her was down sick with the flu.”

Leticia rocked awhile, nodding again. “I’m remembering now. I walked over while I talked, seems to me, and she ducked her head as she usually did. I just took the bull by the balls, told my grandson to go on over there, shovel off that walk for the lady, told the oldest of the young ones to go get those groceries.”

“How’d she handle it?”

“She was kind of stuck, wasn’t she? She needed the help, and help was already moving in. I said how it looked like she’d gotten some sun—as it did, I recall. She said she’d taken a little vacation. My boy’s shoveling her walk, the young one’s carting the two bags of groceries up to the little porch, so she’s stuck, and plainly irritated. She said she hated coming back to winter, wished she could spend all her winters in Florida.”

“She said ‘Florida’ specifically?”

“She did. They had sun and palm trees and swimming pools in Florida, and here we had snow and ice and cold. I suppose that’s the most she said to me in our whole acquaintance, so I said it was nice she got a holiday, and where in Florida did she go? She just mumbled about having to get inside to her mother, and went off. Now, she did stop and offer to pay my grandson, still shoveling, but he wouldn’t take any money. He’s raised better.”

“She killed a woman in Tampa, February of 2011.”

“Well, my sweet Lord. Her vacation tan hadn’t yet faded, so this couldn’t have been long after. She’d gotten a tan while taking a life and stood over there bitching about the snow. Do you think she went to Florida again after she shot you?”

“No, I think she went up to Canada. I shot her—she left a blood trail. And she had to move fast.”

“She had time to kill her own grandparents.” Her fingers reached for her cross again. “Rest their souls.”

“She hated them, like she hated her mother. And she had to be hurting. Why not take it out on them? But she was hurting, and I don’t see her trying to drive all the way to Florida with a gunshot wound. Canada’s closer. Fresh ID, over the border, dig a hole, and hide. She had plenty of cash, we figure, and credit cards under fake IDs. But I think she’s in Florida now. She had a good time there.”

He glanced back at Letitia. “And I think two of her targets are living there now.”

“You’ve got to warn them, Reed. Don’t say how the FBI’s in charge. Those people should have a chance to take precautions, protect themselves.”

After he kissed her goodbye, Leticia watched him drive off. She worried about that boy. The person who wasn’t a person but something so bad she didn’t have a name for it in her vocabulary had tried to kill him once. Surely he knew she’d try again. She had to pray, and she would, that he was smart enough, and good police enough to catch her before she did.

*

Essie looked dumbfounded when Reed offered her a hydrangea. “You should plant it with coffee grounds for reasons that make no sense to me. I’ll trade you the plant for a beer.”

“It’s a nice plant. Hank!” she called out. “Reed brought us a plant.”

Dylan and Puck came first, on the run.

“My man.” Reed slapped high fives with the boy, bent down to rub the wagging dog.

“Are we going to the island? Can we go right now?”

“Gotta hold off on that.”

“Aw! Me and Puck wanna go!”

Reed hauled him up. “Not much longer. When you come, I’m making you and Puck the Pug deputies for the day.”

“With badges?”

“Can’t be a deputy without one. Hey, Hank.”

“Reed. That’s a nice hydrangea. Nikko Blue. Needs acidic soil to keep it that way.”

“Then I’m passing it to the guy who knows.”

He had a beer with Hank, admired Dylan’s Power Rangers action figures and dinosaurs. Hank caught the subtle signal between his wife and her former partner.

“Hey, Dylan, let’s go dig a hole. I’ve got just the spot.”

“Another beer?” Essie asked after her men went outside to dig.

“No, thanks. I’ve got to catch the ferry back and don’t have much time. I stopped by to talk to Leticia Johnson,” he began and relayed the new information.

“We always knew she went to Florida, Reed.”

“That’s right. But I think something about it caught her. She talked about it, and she usually made a point of saying next to nothing. She mentioned it—and the woman at the bakery where she used to stop in the mornings? She said Hobart told her she was taking a few days at a health spa in the mountains.”

“She’s a liar, which we already know, too. But you’ve got a point. She slipped. She was pissed off,” Essie decided. “Just back from sun and palm trees, and now she’s got snow and cold, and nobody’s shoveled the damn walk.”

“Ms. Leticia had her sort of cornered for a minute, so she let go a little, bitched a little.”

“Why would it matter really, what she said to some nosy old woman in her mother’s neighborhood? She’s irritated with the snow, irritated the kid hadn’t shoveled it, fresh off a kill. Yeah.” Essie nodded. “She slipped.”

“She’s in Florida, Essie. I know it.”

“Reed, we’ve got no trail leading there.”

“Two targets, and it’s been a cold winter.” He pushed up, paced. “What did you think when you saw this house, when you bought it?”

“Here’s home.”

“Yeah, and I felt the same about mine. She lived with her grandparents, and hated them—with her mother before, same thing. She killed them all. Those places were never home for her. I’m betting she thinks Florida is. She comes out of Canada—and even the feds believe she holed up there—and hits Bermuda. You know what I think?”

Nodding, Essie puffed out her cheeks. “It reminded her she loves sun and palm trees.”

“Exactly. We figured south already, and I’ve been leaning toward Florida. Now I’m damn sure of it. I know it’s gut, Essie, but it fits.”

“I can trickle this to the special agent in charge.”

“Not if it brings heat on you.”

“Are they getting there? No, they’re not. And she’s added to the body count. I’ll go through channels. Look, Sloop knows you keep in touch with his grandmother, and he can verify. You went by to check in on her—”

“Took her a hydrangea, planted it.”

“So much the better. And she hands you this new conversation. You passed it to me. I pass it up the chain. Simple as that.”

“Okay. As the person who gathered the information, and as a chief of police sworn to protect and serve, I’m contacting the two likely targets.”

“Reed—”

“It’ll take time for the feds to process what you pass up, and even then we can’t know what action they might take. I’m contacting them, Essie. What can they do to me?”

“Maybe not a lot, if anything.”

“They can’t slap at you if I make the contacts.”

“The contact might have more weight coming from me, a detective on the Portland PD.”

“Detective, chief.” He grinned at her. “Come on.”

“Smart-ass.”

“I’m telling you because we’ve never bullshitted each other, and I don’t want you hearing it after the fact. I’ve gotta go.”

He moved to the window first, looked out. “Man, boy, and dog. It’s a nice picture.”

“My favorite. I’m pregnant.”

“Huh?” He spun around. “Seriously? Why didn’t you say so right off? It’s good, right?”

“It’s a lot more than good. I’m only about seven and a half weeks, and you’re not really supposed to say before you hit twelve. But…”

She looked out the window with troubled eyes. “I’m going to have two kids. Hank found an agent who’s going to shop his book around, and by God, he’s already started another. He’s happy writing, staying home. I’m happy. Dylan’s just full of happy. I want the bitch caught, Reed. Sooner or later she’ll come after me, too. I’m the one who killed her brother.”

“We’re going to get her, Essie.”

“She doesn’t target families. They don’t interest her. But now, I’ve got family inside me.”

“Get the word out. Don’t wait for the twelve weeks. Look, I think you’re high on her list—no bullshitting between us—so it’s too soon for her to come after you. But knowing you’re pregnant might hold her back if she’s bumped you up.”