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want that in my car."

Jackson pulled out his radio. "There's a patrol car a couple of blocks away. They can take him."

"You got a map, Joey?" Eli slammed Masters into the hood of the car. "This sick son of a bitch is going to show us all Dwayne's hiding places."

"Sorry." Joey looked around like he thought he could pull one out of thin air. "No city map."

"Patrol car will have one," Jackson said.

Eli swore, but he could only wait.

Jackson got out a notepad and pen, and slapped them down on the hood of the car. "Start writing addresses."

Several minutes later, the patrol car pulled up with its uniformed officers. They provided a map and Masters, shaking like a Chihuahua in a snowstorm, circled the addresses he'd been writing down. He came up with half a dozen more places, now he didn't have to remember street numbers. A few minutes later, he was cuffed and in the back of the car, on his way to the station. Jackson was on the air, relaying the addresses to dispatch.

Twenty-Two

***

The bosses decided a simultaneous sweep would have the best chance of keeping anyone from slipping through police fingers, but Eli chafed at the delay necessary to coordinate the attack. He understood, even agreed with the reasoning, but every second that passed was another second his son spent in that sick bastard's hands.

Thank God he didn't have anything left in his stomach, because the way it was twisting and churning now... It felt like the ulcer he'd had when he fled Pittsburgh was trying to come back. At the station, waiting, Eli paced, trying to keep out of the way, trying not to think.

Joey brought Eli a cup of the engine sludge that passed for coffee here. Eli accepted it without looking at him. He still couldn't face Marilyn's brother, not with him knowing about...stuff.

"They'll find them," Joey said.

"Yeah." Eli took a sip, needing the burn as it slid down his throat. Would they find them soon enough? He didn't quite dare say it out loud.

"Are you mad at me for something?" Joey stepped in front of Eli, blocking his pacing path.

"No. I'm not mad." Eli sidestepped. "Not at you."

Joey sidestepped with him. "Then, what the hell is going on? That's family out there. We need to work together, but you cut me off like I don't exist."

"It's not that." Eli looked at him, finally. But all he saw in Joey's face was confusion, hurt, and anger. "I didn't think you'd want to--"

"What? Wait for word with the guy my sister loves?"

Eli jerked, sloshing coffee over his hand. He barely felt the heat. "Marilyn doesn't love me."

"Then she's doing a damn fine imitation of it."

"She can't." Eli set the cup down and wiped his hand, shaking his head the whole time. "It's insane. All this happened because of me. It's my fault--"

"Bullshit--" Joey began, then broke off as Jackson approached.

Eli looked up, unable to stop the hope that sprang up. "News?"

"Yeah. We found her car. Nothing inside, but it's definitely hers by the license plate and VIN."

"Where?" Joey asked.

"On the north side of the river, on the bluffs above the freeway behind an old house."

"Will you take us there?" Eli stuck his hands in his pockets to hide their shaking. Where could Flash have taken them?

Jackson shrugged. "Don't see why not."

"I want to be there, when the raid goes down. Somewhere close, anyway," Eli said. "Will going to see the car get in the way of that?"

"Shouldn't. I've got my radio. It'll be a while longer getting everything in position."

"Let's go then." Joey led the way out of the building.

Marilyn sat on the lumpy mattress, her back against the wall, legs stretched straight out in front of her, and worried at the nails in the board. The concrete floor under the window had been cold enough to drive her to the stained mattress, but she wasn't cold enough yet to touch the blanket. She'd have to get a whole lot colder than this.

Pete's terrified face edged back into her mind, and her fear had the knife Flash wielded growing to a foot long as it lay against Pete's neck. Marilyn whispered yet another prayer and attacked the nails with more force. If she could get one or two of the nails out of the end of the board, they might give her yet another weapon to use against Flash when he came back. And working at the task helped distract her thoughts.

Slug--she couldn't make herself think of the boy that way without wincing--had been gone almost an hour by her watch. Had he found a pay phone? One that worked? In this part of Pittsburgh, that could be hard to find. Was he even trying? Would he keep his promise?

Just because he reminded her a little of Eli didn't mean he had the same devotion to keeping promises.

In the distance, Marilyn heard a siren wail. Were the police looking? Did they even know she and Pete were missing?

Spotlights illuminated the bare dirt backyard where Marilyn's gold sedan had been abandoned. Uniformed police kept the curious at bay while specialists combed the car for evidence. One of them came over when Jackson approached.

"Whaddya got?" he asked.

The woman hesitated, looking at Eli and Joey hovering behind the detective.

"Oh. This is the boy's father and his--"

"Uncle," Joey interrupted, putting his hand out to shake. "I'm Pete's uncle. Marilyn is my sister."

"The missing woman?" She shook his hand, looking to Jackson for answers.

"That's right. So what have you found?"

"Very little. The car was partially wiped. We've got prints all over the driver's side, nothing on the passenger side, so we're assuming the prints are the owner's."

"Some will be mine," Eli said.

She made a note. "I've found hair, various fibers. There's no blood."

Eli went a little dizzy but remained upright. "None?"

The criminalist looked at him and gave a faint smile. "That's right, sir. None."

"I don't guess there's any way to tell how long the car's been here." Jackson

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