school."
"Gordon Wilson," Audrey said, wrinkling her nose. "You know-that senior with the cowboy boots. People say he runs over cats."
"Well, he's not going to run over any more. They think a mountain lion got him."
Tom had heard about the body yesterday afternoon, and his first irrational thought had been: Zach? Michael?
But they had both been safe. And Jenny was safe at school today-although maybe school wasn't so safe, either. Yesterday, she'd gotten herself sent home from computer applications after something -it was hard to figure out exactly what from the conflicting stories-had happened.
A brief thought crossed his mind that he might call her and ask-but Tom had already chosen his course. He couldn't change it now, and she probably wouldn't want him to. He'd seen her in the car, that look when the song came on. Scared, yes, but with something underneath the scaredness. She'd never looked like that at him.
It didn't matter. He'd protect her anyway. But yesterday, knowing she was home for good, he'd taken the afternoon off and gone to the police station. He'd used charm on a female detective and learned exactly where the body had been found.
Today he was skipping school completely. Teachers were going to start asking questions about that soon.
So what?
Tom found the dry creek bed. It wasn't too far from the famous Bell Canyon Trail, where a six-year-old had been attacked by a mountain lion. The air was scented with sage.
There was a crinkled yellow "crime scene" ribbon straggling along the creek bed and little flags of various colors planted in the ground. Tom scrambled down the slope and stood where tiny traces of a dark stain on the rocks still showed.
He looked around. One place on the opposite bank had seen a lot of activity. Cactus had been broken, pineapple weed uprooted. There were footprints in the dirt.
Tom followed the trail up to a slope covered with purple sage. Coastal live oak and spreading sycamores cast an inviting shade nearby.
Tom studied the ground.
After a moment he began to walk, slowly, toward the trees. He skirted brush. He came to three old sycamores growing so closely that their branches were entwined.
The air was heavier here. It had a strange smell. Very faint, but disturbing. Feral.
Like a predator.
Sometimes there were huge patches of poison ivy under these old trees. Tom looked carefully, then stirred the brush underneath with his foot. The smell came stronger. Something heavy had lain here for quite some time.
He turned and retraced his steps slowly.
Then he saw it. On a dusty rock directly between the trees and the place where the creek bank was disturbed. A splatter of black like tar. A thick, viscous substance that looked as if it had bubbled at the edges.
Tom's breath hissed in, and he knelt, eyes narrowed.
There was no sign that any of it had been scraped off. Either the police hadn't seen it or they hadn't cared. It clearly wasn't the blood of anything on earth. It didn't look like anything important.
It was. It was very important. Tom took out a Swiss army knife and scraped some of the gunk up to examine it. It had an odd, musky smell, and spread very thin it was not black but red.
Then he sat back on his heels and shut his eyes, trying to maintain the control he was famous for.
By Thursday Jenny noticed that Zach had dark circles under his eyes and Dee was jumpier than ever. Michael's face was blotchy, and one of Audrey's nails actually looked bitten.
They were all falling apart.
Because of dreams. That was all they were. Nothing really happened at night, nothing hurt them. But the dreams were enough.
Friday they were scheduled to go postering, but Jenny had to stop by the YMCA first, a few blocks from the Center. And it was there that something really did happen at last.
Jenny had been waiting so long, searching for so long, that she ought to have been prepared. But when the time came, she found she wasn't prepared at all.
She was inside the Y, talking to Mrs. Birkenkamp, the swim coach. Jenny volunteered every Friday with the swim class for disabled kids. She loved it and hated to miss.
"But I have to," she said miserably. "And maybe next Friday, too. I should have told you before, but I forgot-"
"Jenny, it's okay. Are you okay?"
Jenny lifted her eyes to the clear blue ones which looked at her steadily. There was something so wise about them-Jenny had the sudden impulse to throw