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For all I knew he was watching our house right now. He obviously knew my schedule. He'd called my cell phone at the right time, then the house line when we returned from school.
    We had to get out of here.
    I thrust to my feet, then swayed.
    Where should we go?
    To Katie and Maria's house, that's where. But they lived on the south end of Mountain View. The twenty-minute drive through town may as well be across the country. I wasn't sure I could operate a car. How much worse I'd become just in the last hour.
    I sat back down and called Brock's direct line again. Another message. I tried his cell phone, and he picked up. "Hi." His voice rode on pockets of air. "You caught me walking across campus."
    My throat closed until I could barely speak his name. "Brock."
    "What is it?"
    "I . . . I'm real sick. And there's this man. Like a stalker. Called twice. He said he broke into our house. He knew Lauren's bedroom layout and everything—"
    " What? Where are you?"
    "At home. In the bathroom, where Lauren can't hear."
    "Are the doors to the house locked?"
    They always were. "Yes."
    "Did you call the police?"
    "No, I couldn't . . . I'm not thinking very well."
    "What do you mean?"
    "I was so much worse this morning. All these weird symptoms. The man said I have Lyme. He said he put ticks on me some night when you were gone to a conference. And now I'm really bad."
    "That's absolutely insane! "
    "He insists it's true."
    "How long ago?"
    "He just called—"
    "No, how long ago does he claim he put that tick on you?"
    "Months ago." I thought of my nightmares about the bug-eyed intruder. "You need to come home, Brock. I don't know what to do. I fell in the kitchen this afternoon and couldn't get up. My legs are all shaky, and my body feels like a truck hit it. Only worse."
    "Jannie, you go lie down." Brock's tone was tight and furious. "I'm coming home right now. I'll call the police on the way and ask them to send somebody out. If Jud Maxwell's on duty, he'll come."
    Of course, Detective Jud Maxwell. He was married to Brock's administrative assistant, Sarah. I last saw Jud at the Department of Medicine's Christmas party. He was a likeable man, comfortable with who he was. Not in the least intimidated by all the physicians around him. And he so obviously loved his wife. For that reason alone I should have thought of Jud now. Should have called him myself.
    "What about Lauren?" I asked. "She'll be scared."
    "Tell her it has something to do with my work. We have to protect ourselves, Jannie. This is some nut. Sounds like one of those protestors in the Lyme awareness community stooping to the lowest of low." The derision in Brock's voice could have cut steel. "Now go rest. I'll be there in ten minutes." He hung up.
    Somehow I managed to pull to my feet. Phone in hand, I stumbled out of the bathroom, my mind spinning as I went to tell my own child what I'd vowed I never would—a lie.

Chapter 6
    THE OFFICER ARRIVED BEFORE BROCK. When the doorbell rang I was lying on the sofa in the den. I sat up and squinted through the window. At the bright light, I winced. An unmarked car sat at the curb. It must be Jud Maxwell. Detectives worked in suits and ties, and didn't drive squad cars.
    "Who's that?" Lauren called from the kitchen.
    "Keep working. I'll get it." I dragged myself to the door, not looking forward to facing anyone on the police force, even Jud. Surely I'd sound like a lunatic. The story was too crazy.
    I opened the door, sunlight pouring in. The brightness daggered my eyes. I gasped and shielded them with one hand. My gaze fell downward to brown shoes and pant legs.
    "Mrs. McNeil? Your husband called. I hear you've had some trouble."
    I blinked up at his face. Jud was a little on the short side and stocky, with sandy hair and deep brown eyes. "Hi. Yes. Come in." I stepped back, heart grinding as he crossed the threshold. As I moved to close the door, I stumbled.
    "You all right?" I felt a hand underneath my forearm.
    "Yes. Fine.