Sighing, she said, "I want to check around town, like we discussed. The gas stations, diners, convenience stores. But I really want to check on Stormy first. Let's grab some take-out and head back.

I don't like this town. I don't like that pimply-faced kid at the Bates Motel hack there, either."

"If we do all that first, that will make it heading for sun-down by the time we get to the visitor center, "

Lou said.

She nodded. "Yeah. That's another reason. I want to see what goes on around this place after the sun goes down. Just what is it that creepy cop doesn't want us to see?"

"Oh, don't even start with the paranormal theories, Max. You've got no basis-"

"Don't start. We both know you're too skeptical to be objective." She sighed and changed the subject.

"Did we bring flashlights?"

"Just one, " Lou said. "I think I saw a hardware store up here just...right there." He pointed to it just before pulling the car into the tiny square of parking lot in front of the store. The place was no bigger than a shack, but the sign on the door read Open.

Max got out of the car and hurried into the store at Lou's side.

For a small place, it held a lot of goods. The shelves were set close together, making narrow aisles. Not a shopping cart in sight. Every shelf was stacked with goods clear to the ceiling. Tools everywhere, a rowfor plumbing supplies, another for electrical, two rows devoted to gardening needs, with everything from soil, fertilizer and seeds, to hoes, rakes and shovels. A silver-haired woman was picking through the mesh sacks of flower bulbs when Max and Lou walked past her. She looked up, met their eyes and held them for an elastic moment, her own utterly blank, before finally returning her attention to the bulbs.

Other customers wandered about, everyone placid-faced, calm.

Max fought down an insistent shiver. Something was just wrong with this place. With these people.

"Found 'em, " Jason called.

He came around the corner bearing several flash lights-the big Maglite brand, with their bright colors.

He'd grabbed two blues, a red and a black. "One for each of us?"

"Fine, " she said. "We'll need batteries." She took one of the lights from him. "Sixteen of them. D-size."

"I've got those up front, " a male voice said.

She d.a.m.n near dropped the flashlight as she spun to see a tiny, bent-over man who reminded her of something from a Tolkien novel. He smiled up at her. Well, his eyes aimed upward. His head remained bent. The man had the worst case of what her mother had called "bend-over disease" that Maxie had ever seen.

"Uh. Thanks."

He turned stiffly and walked to the front of the store, leaving the three of them to follow. Max took out her wallet, ready to give her biz-only credit card its second workout.

"I should pay for this stuff, " Jason said.

"Don't worry, you will. It'll all be in your bill." She sent him a wink. The old Jason would at least have pretended to get the humor in her remark. This one just blinked at her.

Max rolled her eyes and followed the old man to the counter.

"You folks are new in town, eh? Just visiting?" the proprietor asked.

"We're here to search for two missing girls, " Max said. "In fact, maybe you can help. Have you noticed any teenage girls who shouldn't be here? They would have been driving a small red car." As she spoke, Jason pulled a photo from his wallet and handed it to her. She showed it to the man.

The man looked at the photo, then at her, meanwhile taking one flashlight from her and slowly punching numbers into his cash register. "Can't say that I have. Though I'm sure they'll turn up. Girls, you say?

How old?"

"Seventeen, " Jason answered. "The one in the photo is my sister."

The man set the first flashlight down, picked up the second, peered at it and again began punching numbers. Good G.o.d, couldn't he just ring one of them up and multiply by four? "Well, you'll find her.

Chief Fieldner, he's a good man. A good man."

He rang up the third light and started on the fourth. "Has he handled this sort of thing before?" Lou asked. "Missing-persons cases, I mean?" "Oh, sure. It happens now and again. Hasn't lost one yet." He reached beneath the counter and began setting four packs of D-cell batteries on the counter.

"So this has happened before, then?" Max asked. "When?"

He peered at her, worry in his eyes. "I was speakin' in generalizations, missy. I can't think of a specific case. But you know, there's not much hasn't happened in a town as old as this one at one time or another." He rang up the batteries with fingers that suddenly moved efficiently-and quickly. Before she knew what happened, the items were bagged and he was swiping her credit card.

"Is there anyone else in charge around here? Besides Chief Fieldner, I mean?" Max asked.

"I don't know who would be." He drummed his fingers, waiting for the credit machine to work.

"Don't you have a mayor? A town supervisor? Anything like that?"

"No one but the prince."

"You have a prince?"

He grinned. "It's just a nickname"

The old woman stepped up behind Max with her arms full of bulbs. "Sam!" she snapped. "You mind picking up the pace a bit? I don't have all day."

Max sent her a frown, but even as she did, she heard the credit-card machine whirring to life as it spat out her receipt. Sam shoved it across the counter with a pen, and Max signed it.

"You have a nice day now. Good luck tracking down those girls."

"But you didn't answer my-"

"Honestly, some people." The old woman shouldered Max out of the way to lay her piles of bulbs on the counter. "Now, one of these has a split bulb in it, Sam. I don't expect to be paying full price for that."

"I'll take care of it, Maddy."

Lou took Max's arm about a half second before she hit the old lady's head off. She shot him a look. He advised caution with his eyes and pulled gently, so she gave in and let him lead her out of the store.

"Jesus, " Max said as soon as they were outside. "Are they all f.u.c.king vampires around here?"

"Nope, " Lou said. "Still daylight."

"But what the h.e.l.l? And who is this G.o.dd.a.m.n prince person, anyway? Was Gollum back there hallucinating or what?"

"His name was Sam. And just be patient. We'll find out" He popped the trunk at the VW's front end.

She dropped the bag inside and got into the car. Jason said nothing, maybe afraid to get between them at that moment. "I'd have made him talk, " Max said.

"And if that's what you want to do, you can go right back in there and do it."

Lou sat there, maddening in his patience. A boy rode past on a red bicycle, a sack of newspapers over his shoulder. "Fine, " Max said at length. "I'll bite. What's the 'but'?"

"But, " Lou said, smiling because he had made her ask, "you'll make enemies of everyone in this town if you do it your way. You're an outsider. You get pushy and unpleasant, it's gonna burn through the Endover grapevine like a brushfire. If you're nice, on the other hand, people start wanting to help you out."

She pursed her lips. "I hate when you're right."

"No you don't, " he said. "You hate when you're wrong. Which is why I usually don't point it out."

"Hey!"

He smiled at her. A real smile. She hadn't been on the receiving end of one of those since their conversation the night before, and seeing one now made her melt. h.e.l.l, Lou could correct her all day, and she'd still want him. He could treat her dearest old friend like a murder suspect, and even then, she still wanted him. She had it bad.

Chapter 8.

Stormy waited until everyone had left, then walked around to the back of the motel. She followed a strip of blacktop, probably there to grant a garbage truck access to the large Dumpster out back. Beyond it, there was just the weed- and wildflower-strewn field. She walked to the window of Jason's motel room.

She'd flipped the lock during an idle moment when they'd all been gathered in his room earlier. No one had noticed a thing. Well, she had trouble believing Max hadn't noticed. Max noticed everything, though she seemed pretty distracted lately. Still, if she had noticed, she hadn't mentioned it. And Jay hadn't noticed, or he would certainly have locked it back up.

Stormy was convinced her old friend was hiding something, and she intended to find out what it was, so she slipped into the room through the window. No one was around to see. No one was around, period.

This place was deader than a cemetery at midnight. A shiver raced up her spine, and she shook it off, slid the window back down and faced the bland room that looked just like her own. Shouldn't take long to toss it. She was so tired, though. Listless-as if she'd been up all night or something. But she ignored the feeling and got on with her mission. She went first to the desk, checked the drawers, found a telephone directory and an out-of-date TV listing guide.

Then she tried the dresser. Nothing. No clothes, socks, underwear. Apparently Jay hadn't taken time to pack before charging down here to search for his sister. That, at least, made sense. The closet held a coat, ironing board, extra pillow. The bathroom had the usual motel-provided, eyedropper-size shampoo, conditioner, bar of soap.

There was just nothing.

Dammit!

She checked the pockets of the coat as a last resort, and then she stopped dead.

There, in the pocket, she felt something. She pulled it out: a Polaroid photo, in which two young girls stared, wide-eyed with fear, at the camera. "Jesus, " she whispered.

She flipped it over and read the words scrawled on the back. "Do as you're told, or they both die."

Cold chills rippled down her spine. She ran a hand over the scrawled lines-and they hit her like a sledgehammer. Stormy staggered backward, one hand pressed to her head, eyes squeezed tight. Her legs. .h.i.t something, and she fell to the floor. A man's face hovered in her mind, behind her tightly closed eyelids-the face of a fallen angel. The same dark, haunting face she'd seen beside Jason's when she'd gone off the road on the way to Maine . She hit the floor and her hand went limp. She dropped the photo and pa.s.sed out cold.

"Stormy? Honey? Come on, wake up, babe."

Stormy blinked her eyes open. Max was leaning over her, looking worried. Oh h.e.l.l, they were back.

The realization that she'd been caught red-handed in Jay's room hit her like an electric shock, and she sat up fast-too fast. Dizziness washed over her brain, and she held her head, blinked a few times to let it pa.s.s. When it did, she tried to get her bearings and then frowned. "How the h.e.l.l did I get into the bed?"

"I don't know, " Max said. "It's where I found you." "Where's Jay? Is he back?" She swung her feet to the floor. "Let's get the h.e.l.l out of his room before he-"

"Honey, we're in our room."

Stormy went still, her eyes fixing on Max's. "What?"

"Look, you're disoriented. You came in here to lie down while Lou and Jay and I went to grab some lunch and visit the local cop-shop. Remember?"

"Yes, but-"

"You must have fallen asleep. I got worried when I couldn't wake you." Stormy fixed her friend with an earnest stare. "I was in Jay's room. I pa.s.sed out in Jason's motel room."

Max frowned.

"I unhooked a window when we were there earlier. I didn't really want to stay behind to rest, I wanted to poke around his room a little while you were gone. And I did."

"You did?"

"Yes. Jesus, Maxie, don't look like that."

"I guess I just don't follow. Why are you suspicious of Jason?"

"You telling me you're not?"

"Of course not." She frowned, shrugged. "Maybe he's acting a little...off-kilter, but h.e.l.l, given what he's been through... Besides, he's our friend, and he's in trouble. That's all that matters."

"Some detective you are. You're right, he's in trouble. So might we be."

"I'm not following."

"I found-"

Nothing. You found nothing.

Stormy frowned at the deep, oddly familiar voice in her mind. "I found... something." She pressed her hands to her head, squinted her eyes, but all she conjured up was a deep black hole. "I know I did."

"Well? What?"

"I...I don't remember."