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hue, networked with delicate spidery veins. His cheeks were deep divots and the lower portion of his face was covered in a lumberjack’s beard caked with ice.
    “Are you hurt?” Todd repeated.
    It seemed to take a few seconds for Todd’s words to sink in. Then the man shook his head, almost imperceptibly. “No.”
    “You…you came out of nowhere…”
    “I’m lost.”
    “How’d you get out here?”
    The man lifted his head and scanned his surroundings, including the trees high above the road and the blanket of stars above. As if he were searching for something. Todd caught a glimpse of the man’s enormous Adam’s apple, protruding like the knot in the bole of an oak tree.
    “Todd,” Kate called. She hadn’t moved from her spot beside the Cherokee. “Is everything okay?”
    “Yes.” He turned back to the man. “What’s your name?”
    “Eddie Clement.” Then some semblance of coherence seemed to flicker behind his iron-colored eyes. The man reached out and clamped both hands on Todd’s forearms, startling him. “You have to help me.”
    “Sure. We’ve got—”
    “My daughter.” The man’s breath rushed into Todd’s face, reeking like soured milk. “She’s lost, too.”
    “Your daughter is out here?”
    “Our car broke down just up the road. Maybe…maybe a mile up the road. I don’t know. I stopped to have a look under the hood. I was looking for no more than two or three minutes, tops. But when I got back inside the car, she was gone.” The man’s hands tightened on Todd’s forearms. “You have to fucking help me!”
    “Okay, okay. Calm down.” He turned and waved Kate over.
    “I’ve been looking for her, calling out to her,” the man went on, his fingers digging into Todd’s arms. “At first I thought she was playing a game. Sometimes we play those kinds of games. But it’s too cold to play games out here. And she never came out of hiding after I called her name over and over, and after I told her that it was not a game. I started cursing and yelling and telling her to come out. But she never came out.”
    “What’s going on?” Kate said, rubbing her gloved hands together.
    “His name’s Eddie Clement. He’s got a daughter out here somewhere, too.”
    “Jesus.”
    “What’s her name?” Todd asked.
    “Emily.”
    “How old is she?”
    “Eight.”
    “Jesus Christ,” Kate said, her voice seemingly dropped anoctave. “How could she…I mean, how long has she been out here?”
    The man—Eddie—narrowed his eyes in concentration. He was a heavy guy, short and stocky, with hands that felt like bear traps on Todd’s arms. “Half hour, I guess. Or maybe an hour.” Frustrated, Eddie shook his woolly, white-powdered head. Chunks of ice dropped off his beard. “I don’t know. I can’t…I can’t really be sure. I can’t remember.”
    “What’s going on, Todd?” It was Fred Wilkinson now, standing outside the Cherokee. He blew into his hands. “Everything all right?”
    Todd gave Fred a thumbs-up, then turned to Kate. “Get Mr. Clement into the car before he freezes to death.”
    “What about my daughter?”
    “We’ll find her,” he promised the man. “But you need to get yourself warm right now. This is Kate Jansen. Follow her to the car.”
    Finally—blessedly—Eddie Clement dropped his big meaty hands from Todd’s forearms, leaving behind dull aches in their wake. The son of a bitch had probably bruised him down to the muscle by the feel of things, and Todd was almost certain there were red finger-shaped splotches impressed on his flesh.
    Kate put a hand on Eddie’s broad flannel back and led him to the Cherokee. Todd noticed two rips in the fabric of Eddie Clement’s flannel coat, one at each shoulder blade, each one perhaps five inches long. The fabric around each slit looked frayed. As they reached the Cherokee, Kate peered back at Todd from over her shoulder, as if to shoot him her thoughts through invisible magic rays. Vaguely, Todd wondered if