A thought began to brew in Ludwig's mind. The longer he sat, the more appealing it became to him. He tried to talk himself out of using it as an option for getting in to see the Captain, but if he was really as convinced about what he knew as he thought he was, did it make sense to leave any arrows in the quiver? Who was he helping by keeping his light under a bushel? If he wanted his life to move fast, if he wanted that wind at his back, he knew what he could say. And he knew if he said it, the wind might turn into a hurricane, but wasn't that really what he wanted?

He stood up and crossed the waiting area. The same cop saw him approaching, and Ludwig could tell the young man wanted to roll his eyes, but his training managed to stop him.

"He's awfully busy, sir. He knows you're waiting."

"Does he know that I have information about your missing colleague?"

The young cop's mouth opened partway. His cheeks flushed.

"You better watch it, sir," he whispered. "That's a sore subject around here."

"Then you'd hate to be the one who had information relating to the case and let it slip through your fingers, wouldn't you?"

The cop studied Ludwig for a moment, as if trying to figure him out, and then he shook his head.

"You better not be jacking with me."

"I'm not."

"Stay there. Right there. You better be there when I come back."

"I will be."

And Ludwig remained rooted to the spot for the sixty seconds it took the young cop to return and say that Captain Berding would see him now. Right now.

The Captain looked impressive with his neatly organized desk and wall of plaques. The American flag in the corner made Ludwig wonder if he needed to snap off a salute. Being in the Captain's office felt like being in the Dean's office as a young, untenured faculty member, one of those conversations that began, "We have some concerns about the trajectory your career is taking..."

Ludwig didn't miss those talks. This one would be different, he felt certain, because he had the information Captain Berding wanted, which gave him a measure of power he'd never had when facing the dean in those early, hungry years of his career.

"If you have information pertinent to either one of these cases, or any case within my jurisdiction, I'd appreciate it hearing about it Mr. Ludwig-"

"Dr. Ludwig. I teach at the university. It's Dr. Ludwig."

"Okay. Dr. Ludwig. Understandably, time is of the essence here, so if you could get to it."

Ludwig held his index finger in the air. "Right. Have you ever heard of The Pioneer Club?"

Berding looked surprised. He clearly didn't expect the conversation to start off there. "I've heard of them."

"And you know what they did?"

"I've heard some of the stories. I grew up here in New Cambridge. But I'm not sure how this relates."

"Oh, it relates," Ludwig said. "It relates."

"Could you relate it as fast as possible? I have a man missing."

"I'll cut to the chase then. I know where The Pioneer Club used to meet."

Berding looked unimpressed. "And?"

"The location of The Pioneer Club meeting place has been unknown. It's been a closely guarded secret since the founding of this town. I've spent the past decade researching the group and their activities, and I've finally found the spot where they used to meet."

Berding started to speak, but Ludwig kept on going.

"Do you know the Donahues, a family that lives on land west of town out in Union Township?"

"I know of them."

"The land is currently owned by a Roger Donahue. Do you know of him?"

Berding shrugged. "I've seen him around. He's a guy with a slow leak who lives out on the edge of civilization. Every town has one like him."

"His family has owned that land for close to two hundred years. Roger Donahue might have a slow leak. I don't know. I've never met the man. But his family was quite prominent in the history of this town."

"I believe you," Berding said. "I knew his old man better than the son, now that I think about it. He used to do odd jobs around town. He was a kind of handyman type. No real steady work but always had something to do. He was a little squirrelly but harmless."

"Their ancestors were members of The Pioneer Club. It only makes sense, right? I mean if they met on their land."

"Sure," Berding said, showing a little more interest. "But I'm waiting for the dots to connect."

"You know the stories about what they used to do there, right? The ritualized, sanctioned murder. The punishment of women."

Berding nodded. "I've heard stories."

"When I was out there, on the Donahue land, I found a grave, recently dug, and large enough to hold a human body."

Berding c.o.c.ked his head slightly. "Did you see a body?"

"No."

"What did you see?"

"I saw a rectangular area of freshly turned earth, approximately five feet long and two feet wide. I also saw a number of footprints to indicate that someone had been there recently."

"Did you see any people?"

"No."

"You just saw this hole in the ground."

"A filled-in hole. Yes."

Berding leaned back in his chair, the springs squeaking against his weight. "You understand why I can't do anything with this, don't you?"

"No. What do you mean?"

"Do you know how many people out in the sticks have holes dug on their property? Holes that look like graves? They bury animals, they dig irrigation lines and put in plumbing. h.e.l.l, some of them still bury their garbage and the contents of their slop pots. If I arrested everybody who dug a hole on their property, I'd fill the state prison at Lucasville."

Ludwig hadn't expected to encounter such resistance. He thought he was bringing in the Rosetta Stone, the key to unlocking a series of mysteries that had plagued the town for more years than either man knew. Instead he found himself dealing with an obstinate and small-minded public official, one who was currently displaying the same obtuse nature as the worst of Ludwig's students.

"This isn't just any land," Ludwig said. "This is land with a connection to The Pioneer Club. And land that is situated within a mile of the place where Jacqueline Foley is presumed to have disappeared. You have an officer missing as well. Let me guess...he was investigating the Foley case when he vanished. Am I right?"

Berding didn't respond. He pursed his lips together and didn't speak.

"So I am right. That's two disappearances in that area. And a grave. What's it going to take?"

Berding steepled his fingers before his face. Ludwig couldn't see if his expression was changing or not. He leaned to the right, trying to see around the man's hands.

"Well, Captain?"

"Thank you for your time, Dr. Ludwig. If we need anything else, we'll let you know."

Ludwig wasn't sure what was being said. Was the Captain truly thanking him or dismissing him out of hand?

"Are you going to act on my information?"

"I'll write up a report on our discussion, as I have to with all potential witnesses, and the report will be added to our files on the Foley and McMichael matters. As I said, if we need anything else, we'll be in contact. I imagine we can find you at the university."

Ludwig leaned forward. He felt like he was in a strange parallel world, one where all the words he spoke fell on deaf ears, leaving him abandoned and alone.

"Is that it?" he said. "That's all you're going to do?"

"We're doing everything we can. If you don't mind showing yourself out, we have a lot of work to get back to here."

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR.

Diana knew she couldn't be patient. She knew that sitting around the apartment waiting for Dan to call or come by would drive her nuts. Too many unpleasant memories. Too many reminders of nights spent waiting for him to call, waiting to find out if it were possible to see him, even for just a few minutes. Adding the anxiety over the missing persons cases to that would be enough to send her crawling out of her skin.

She jumped in her car and drove north, heading for Vienna Woods and a visit with her mother. At least there she had a chance to be appreciated. If her mother was in a somewhat coherent state, Diana might come face to face with someone who was happy to see her.

Diana followed the signs to the second floor. It was quieter up there than on the first floor. Less moaning and wailing from the patients, fewer shouts and grunts from the employees. Diana chalked it up to the wonders of sedation, and the likelihood that the patients on the second floor were in much worse shape than those below. Their fates were closer to being sealed, or at the very least, they were all closer to accepting the hand being dealt. She imagined the third floor looked and sounded like a morgue.

She stopped at the nurse's station and told them who she was. The nurse at the desk gave Diana what felt like a judgmental once over and asked if she had spoken to her mother's social worker.

"Maria?"

"Maria doesn't work on the second floor. You have to speak with Deborah. I'll call her. Just have a seat."

Diana waited on a hard plastic chair. She looked up and down the hallway, wondering which room belonged to her mother. She'd stayed away just like they'd asked, but she began to wonder if something had gone wrong and they had failed to inform her. Couldn't be, she decided. It just couldn't be. But then why did she have to check in with yet another social worker if everything remained the same?

After ten minutes, a woman came down the hall. She wore a long, flowing skirt and, unlike Maria, her long hair hung loose past her shoulders. Bracelets jangled on the woman's wrist as she held out her hand and introduced herself as Deborah, the new caseworker for Diana's mother.

"I like to talk to the families of the new patients in my care," Deborah said, taking the seat next to Diana. "When's the last time you saw your mother?"

"It's been close to a month," Diana said, trying to fight off the guilt. "I was told that my presence upset her too much."

Deborah nodded, the model of sympathetic understanding. "Sure, sure. Sometimes we suggest that for Alzheimer's patients. It allows them to acclimate to their new surroundings better."

"Is something wrong with my mom?" Diana said. "Something more than what was already wrong?"

Deborah smiled, but it looked strained. "You're going to notice some changes in your mother during this visit, changes that reflect the progression of her illness. It's not that anything is wrong, per se. It's just a further manifestation of the symptoms she already demonstrated. She may not know who you are at all. She may not respond to any outside stimuli. The disease seems to be progressing much more rapidly in your mother's case than is normally expected."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Just be prepared for these changes and be patient with them."

"Of course," Diana said, forcing a smile of her own. Maria must have briefed Deborah on the difficult daughter, the one who shows up at the hospital and sends the patient spinning out of control. Diana resolved to be the perfect little visitor, the perfect and dutiful daughter. "Can I see her now?"

"Sure. Right this way."

Deborah left them alone, turning away at the door, her jangling bracelets announcing her departure, leaving Diana alone with her mother who was tucked in her bed and seemingly oblivious. Diana stayed near the door for a moment, as though still deciding whether she wanted to actually enter the room or not.

Her mother did look different, Deborah was right about that. She looked even older than she had just a month ago, as though the intervening weeks had sapped even more life out of her, leaving an increasingly withered and fragile husk behind in the hospital bed. At some point, the hospital staff had cut her mom's hair short. The resulting mess told Diana that the hospital staff didn't really care if her mom looked like a woman or not.

Diana approached the bed and gave her mom's arm a gentle squeeze. Her eyes were closed, her breathing steady and regular, but Diana spoke anyway.

"Mom?"

Her mother didn't stir.

"Mom? Can you hear me?"

Nothing. This didn't surprise Diana. If they kept her somewhat medicated and dopey down on the first floor, they probably pumped a drugstore into her up here. Diana squeezed onto the edge of the bed so she could sit next to her mom. There was plenty of room given the size of her mom's withering body. Diana took her mom's hand and held it in her own. It felt soft and thin, like well-worn leather.

"Mom? The police are searching right now, somewhere out in the country. They're searching because of another girl who disappeared, but it's possible, it's possible it could tell them something about Rachel as well. I'm trying not to get my hopes up about that, but I want to let you know that I haven't stopped looking for her. And I'm not going to stop looking for her either. I'm doing it for you because I know you'd want me to find her."

Her mother stirred. She turned her head from side to side, and her eyelids fluttered.

"Mom? Can you hear me?"

She stopped moving her head. Her eyes came open and locked on Diana.

"Mom?"