in locks on the backs of their necks. Their bodies had the tendons and lean hardness of men who lifted weights daily and for whom narcissism was a virtue and not a character defect.

Their leader was named Tim. He stood two inches taller than his companions and wore a gold earring in one earlobe and a beard that ran along his jawline like a cluster of black ants. A Glock semiautomatic hung from his right hand. He paused in front of the cave and slipped the gun into the back of his belt, as though enacting a private ritual unrelated to what anyone thought of him. He took a breath and entered the cave. He produced a penlight from his jeans, clicked it on, and shone it into the darkness.

?It?s a mine?? one of his companions said.

?I can feel a breeze blowing through it. It?s got to have a second opening.?

?You see the guy??

?No, that?s why I said it?s got a second opening. Maybe he went through it and out the other side.?

?Where?s it go??

Tim continued to walk deeper into the cave, the beam of his penlight watery and diffuse on the walls. ?Come have a look at this.?

?At what??

?Did you see Snakes on a Plane??

The two bikers who had remained outside the cave stepped into the darkness. Tim aimed the penlight in front of him, pointing it down a passageway that twisted into the mountain.

?Jesus!? one of them said.

?They go where there?s food or water. Maybe a cougar dragged its kill in here,? Tim said. ?You ever see that many in one place??

?Maybe Collins is a ghoul. Maybe he dumps his victims in here.?

?Go down and check it out. They rattle before they strike. They?re not rattling. You?ll be okay.?

?How about that one on the ledge behind you??

The other two bikers waited, smiles on their faces, expecting Tim to jump. Instead, he turned around and shone the light into a diamondback?s eyes. He picked up a piece of splintered timber that had fallen from the roof. He poked at the snake?s head with it, then bedeviled it in the stomach, and finally, lifted it up in a coil and flipped it into the darkness.

?You?re not afraid of snakes??

?I?m afraid of bad information. I think this Texas bunch is jerking Josef around. This guy Collins is a hitter, not a pimp. Hitters don?t boost somebody else?s whores.?

?Where do you think he went??

?One thing is for sure. He didn?t go out the other side.?

?Then where is he??

?Probably watching us.?

?No way. From where??

?I don?t know. The guy has been killing people for twenty years and never went inside.?

?This blows, Tim.?

They were outside the cave now, the stucco house still in shadow, the morning cool, the wind ruffling the mesquite. The three men stared at the surrounding hills, looking for the glint of binoculars or the lens on a telescopic rifle sight.

?Who are we supposed to check in with??

?The guy who ratted out Collins. His name is Hugo Cistranos.?

?What are we gonna do??

Tim slipped the Glock from behind his belt and strolled down the gravel path from the cave to Preacher?s compact car. He circled the car, taking careful aim, and shot out each tire. He went inside the house and closed all the windows, like a man securing his home from an impending storm. He found a candle in a kitchen drawer, lit it, and melted the wax in a pool so he could affix it to the drainboard. Then he shut the front door and turned on the propane stove and shut the kitchen door behind him as he exited the house.

?Let?s fang down some frijoles,? he said.

SHERIFF HACKBERRY HOLLAND had just picked up Danny Boy Lorca for public intoxication and locked him in a cell upstairs when Maydeen told him Ethan Riser was on the phone.

?How you doing, Mr. Riser?? Hackberry said, picking up the receiver on his desk.

?Can?t you call me Ethan??

?It?s a southern inhibition.?

?You were right about the origins of your mystery caller. We think his name is Nick Dolan. He was a floating casino operator in New Orleans before Katrina.?

?How?d you ID him??

?His name was in Isaac Clawson?s notes. Clawson figured the Thai murder victims for prostitutes somebody was smuggling into the country, so he started running down anybody with major ties to escort services. It appears Clawson was giving Arthur Rooney a hard look and decided to check out Nick Dolan at the same time. Evidently, he interviewed Dolan at his vacation home in New Braunfels.?

?Why