The Viper

She uttered an impatient sigh, as if to say that it was one more invasive disturbance caused by his refusal to drop the case. “They wanted to know where you were. One of them even checked Gerry’s trunk.”

As she turned again to leave, he asked, “Did they say anything else?”

“That you should get in touch with Stryker ASAP.”

“You weren’t going to mention that to me?”

Anger flared up in her eyes. “Are you claiming you didn’t already know that she wants to see you, to persuade you to drop this damn Lerman business?”

“I was just wondering why you didn’t tell me the one thing they asked you to tell me.”

“Because you already know it! For Christ sake, David, didn’t you just finish telling me how you came over the hill from the farm road and pitched a tent up in that freezing forest to avoid facing her? You know damn well she wants to talk to you! What planet are you living on? What planet do you think I’m living on?”

54

GURNEY AWOKE THE FOLLOWING DAY WITH A DULL HEADACHE. However, the sky was blue and the sun was sparkling on the ice-encased branches of the trees, so he didn’t feel as bad as he would have on a grayer morning. He was looking forward to his meeting with Adrienne.

The clock on his nightstand read 8:10 a.m. He needed to get moving if he was going to get to the Franciscan Sanctuary by eleven, considering that it might take him an extra half hour to scramble over that snow-covered hill to get to his car. He noted that the shotgun, which Madeleine had been keeping propped up each night by her side of the bed, was gone.

He showered, shaved, dressed, and strapped on his shoulder-holstered Glock. He found Madeleine at the breakfast table with a bowl of oatmeal and one of her books. She didn’t look up. The shotgun rested on a spare chair between her and the French doors. He went to the kitchen window to see if the unmarked car was still by the barn. It wasn’t, but that didn’t mean much. It might be on the other side of the barn or down on the town road. He made himself a cup of coffee, two fried eggs, and a slice of whole-wheat toast. When he brought these things to the table, Madeleine closed her book and carried her bowl to the sink island.

“I have a meeting this morning over near Winston,” he said. “I should be back in the early afternoon.”

Drying her hands on a dish towel, she responded only with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you working today?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“With Gerry?”

“Yes.”

“All day?”

“Yes.”

She folded the dish towel neatly and left the room.

GURNEY’S HIKE OVER the slippery hill to his car took all of the half hour he allotted. Along the way he checked on the condition of his tent. It was secure and weathertight. He hated the idea of being on the run, but maintaining his freedom was an absolute necessity.

He managed to back the car out of its hiding place with only a few traction-losing moments on the icy ground. The remainder of the trip was uneventful. Frequent checking of his rearview mirror didn’t reveal any followers.

When the car’s GPS made its “destination on right” announcement, he found himself next to an open gate in a fieldstone wall. A bronze plaque on the wall bore the words FRANCISCAN SANCTUARY. A sign beneath it said VISITORS WELCOME 6:00 A.M. TO 6:00 P.M. The gateway led to a driveway in far better condition than the rural road outside it.

He followed the driveway through a woodland of beeches that were still clinging to their autumn-gold leaves. The driveway brought him to a brick manor house in the middle of a parklike clearing, part of which was devoted to a modest parking lot. He spotted Adrienne standing next to an aging Subaru Forester. He pulled into a spot next to her.

She was wearing shapeless jeans, a down jacket, and a woolly stretch hat pulled down over her ears. There were splotches of red on her face and her ungloved hands.

“I apologize,” she said as he got out of his car, “I forgot how far this is from Walnut Crossing.”

“No problem, Adrienne.”

“You must be wondering why I chose this place.”

“You said you came here as a child.”

She nodded. “With my father and Sonny, when things were . . . less complicated. Do you mind walking while we talk?”

She led the way out of the parking area to one of several paths into the beech forest. The foliage above them was thin, and the path was bathed in late-morning sunlight.“We came here once a month. Lenny only had us the first Sunday of every month—that was the divorce arrangement. He brought us here to see the animals.”

“The animals?”

“Abandoned pets. That’s what this place is all about. A thousand acres with huge enclosures, not like a typical animal shelter with little cages. The big house by the parking lot—that’s where some of the dogs and cats live, the ones that don’t like being outside. And there are lots of volunteers to take care of them—feed them, walk them, talk to them.”

Her voice was wistful. “When we came here, it was like we were a happy family.”

“You lived the rest of the time with your mother?”