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the two ski masksstill lying on the back seat.

“Crap,” Donnie whispered to himself.

He picked up Mildred's revolver and slid it into his frontpocket. He climbed out of the car and strolled up the driveway to the frontdoor.

Allen and Cam ran through the woods until they came to theedge of the cliff. They climbed down onto the rocks to a point where they werejust out of sight. It was low tide and the seven-foot waves crashed against thejagged rocks and boulders of Cow Beach point, about seventy-five yards behindthem. Allen hopped from rock to rock, with Cam doing his best to keep up.

“You good?” Allen asked.

“Don't worry about me,” Cam shot back.

“Your voice sounds shay.”

“If ya must know, I'm scared of heights. Spent half my lifeon a ranch in Oklahoma that was flat as piss on a plate. I'm not used toscrambblin' around on slippery rocks above a ragin' ocean like a goddamn crab.”

Allen chuckled. “You're doing fine. Hand me one of those skimasks.”

“Uh … that's gonna be a problem, pardner.”

“You left them on the seat, didn't you?”

“That's a big 10-4.”

Keeping their heads below the home's line of sight, theyinched along as quickly as they could, to position themselves at the back ofthe house.

Cam pointed to the rocks below them. “What's that?” heasked.

When Allen turned his head to look, his sneaker lost itsgrip on the damp rock he was standing on. His knee slammed against the rock.

“Shit!” Allen said, rubbing his knee. He breathed throughclenched teeth trying to ignore the pain.

“You alright?” Cam asked.

“I'm okay.” Allen focused on what got Cam's attention. “It'sa sneaker,” he said. “Looks like a kid's sneaker.”

Allen dropped to a boulder a few feet below him to get acloser look.

“Do you think it's one of the boys' shoes?” Cam asked.

“I don't know,” Allen replied.“But the guy with the coroner's office said Oliver was wearing just one sneaker.”

Donnie rapped on the wooden double door, then he noticed thedoorbell button and pushed it. He could hear the chimes inside ringing. Hetried to place the tune, but it eluded him. He reached down and adjusted thepistol in his pocket. He was humming along cheerily when the door opened.

An angry-looking man with long, slicked-back hair glared atDonnie. “What?”

Donnie smiled politely. “Hi,” he said, and pointed back overhis shoulder. “My car ran out of gas, I think.”

“You think it ran out of gas?” Myron Spoon asked.“What's that got to do with me?”

“I forgot my cell phone. I was wondering if I could come inand use your phone.”

Spoon looked back over his shoulder into the house. “Boss!”he hollered.

“Yeah?” came a booming voice from somewhere inside.

“There's a guy out here ran outta gas.”

“What the fuck you want me to do about it? There's gas inthe garage!”

Spoon stepped through the doorway and left the door openbehind him. “Follow me,” he said. “There's a gas can in the garage.”

Great, Donnie thought, a change in the planalready. “Thanks,” he said gleefully.

Donnie followed Spoon back across the driveway to thegarage.

“Nice Mustang,” Donnie said. “That yours?”

“Naw, that belongs to a friend of the boss's. The truck'smine.”

The two men walked around to adoor at the side of the garage. Spoon opened it and went inside. He flipped ona light switch and the florescent lights hanging from the ceiling lit up theplace.

Allen picked up the sneaker. It was a size 8 Nike Air Force1; black leather uppers, white rubber sole. He wished he could remember whatkind of shoes Jacob and Oliver wore. “Looks like it would fit a kid,” he said.“Pretty snazzy too.”

“Snazzy, grandpa? Don't ever call me old,” Cam said.“We better get up there. Donnie is probably in the house by now.”

Allen tossed the sneaker up the cliff and into the woods.“Might need that later,” he said.

The two men hurried back up the rocks and peeked over theedge of the backyard. It was an hour until sundown, but with the sun behindsome clouds far off on the horizon, it was darker than Allen had pictured itwould be. A massive window at the rear of the house was lit up. Allen and Camcraned their necks to see inside.

“You see anything?” Cam asked.

“I don't see Donnie, if that'swhat you're asking,” Allen replied. “Or anyone else, for that matter.”

“Gas is over on this shelf,” Spoon said. He crossed the roomand got down on one knee.

Donnie looked around the room, and then pulled Mildred'spistol out of his front pocket. He pointed the weapon at Spoon's back, andgently put his finger on the trigger. He took a step back.

Spoon pulled the gas can off the shelf, stood, and turnedaround. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked, when he saw the .38 trained onhim.

“Put the can down,” Donnie ordered.

“The boss ain't gonna like this,” Spoon said.

“Who else is in the house?” Donnie asked.

“You're making a big mistake, fella,” said Spoon. “Why don'tyou put that gun down, and I'll let you walk out of here.”

“Is Jacob in the house? Is he still alive?”

“The kid? That's why you're here?”

“Is he alive?”

“He's alive. Put down the gun and I'll take you to him.”

“I'll keep the gun, and you can take me to him. I'm warningyou—if you try anything, I'll shoot you.”

Spoon grinned. “That's gonna be a little difficult,” hesaid, looking down at the weapon. “You didn't cock the hammer.”

Donnie glanced down at his weapon, and Spoon reached out andslapped the .38 out of Donnie's hand. It hit the concrete floor and slid upagainst the garage door.

 â€śNow what are ya gonna—”

Spoon didn't even finish his sentence before Donnie'sspinning back kick slammed the heel of his shoe against the side of Spoon'shead. Spoon staggered to his left. His eyes were open for a second, but he hadno idea what had just happened to him. He tried to bring up his fists but hitthe concrete on his side instead. The sound of Spoon's head hitting the floormade a sickening crack.

“Oooh, that didn't sound good.” Donnie said, wincing inempathy.

He bent down and grabbed Spoonby the ankles and dragged him deeper into the garage, leaving a blood trailacross the floor. Donnie pulled out

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