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in my ears. Stephen's eyes bulged. He'd rolled onto one shoulder to watch me. I took a knife from the toolchest Prince had brought to the shack.
    "It's okay," I said. "You're safe. I'm going to let you go. But I need you not to scream."
    He nodded fractionally, as if afraid to startle me. I sawed into the cords on his ankles and the ties on his wrists. He held very still. I raised my eyebrows at him and removed the gag.
    "Don't look at him," I said. "That isn't something you want to remember."
    "Is he dead?"
    I nodded. A small cut on his throat dribbled blood. I applied pressure with the gag, then used a clean corner to wipe up his tears and snot. He gave me a pleading look and hugged me. It was a good thing I was wearing a dark shirt. I'd have to think of a good lie to explain the blood to Mara.
    Soon, he stopped shaking. I led him out the door and took him to my car.
    "If your parents ask, you cut yourself climbing a fence," I said.
    He wiped at his red eyes. "Will they know?"
    "Not unless you tell them."
    "I won't."
    "Good." I grimaced. "But if anyone else ever tries to hurt you, you should. This is just a special case."
    He pushed out his lower lip. "But if it happens again you can help me again."
    "You can't count on that." I opened the passenger door and boosted him inside. "The world's too big. Good people aren't always there."
    "Then how come you found me?"
    A few smart people running the show. A lot of persistence. Even more luck. Not the sort of things you say to a six-year-old. Or maybe you do. I don't know, I'm no parent. The whole situation was beyond me. Sometimes I don't even see the victims with my own eyes. I'd never talked to one who knew the score.
    "Because I have to."
    I dropped him off a couple blocks from home. The cut on his neck had stopped bleeding. He waved at me. I waved back and drove away.
    I cruised past the brick shack to make sure the shots hadn't drawn any cops or neighbors, then parked and walked right up to it. Prince had bled a lot. I found his keys and opened his trunk, grabbed his floor covers and the emergency blanket in his roadside kit, then wrapped him up as best I could and carried him to the trunk. I couldn't do much about the blood in the shack. If CR cared, they'd send someone else back to clean it up.
    I drove out of town and parked in the dusty hills. That night, right on schedule, the Pod pulled me back home.
    Its door swung open. I blinked at the bright lights. As usual, I was a little foggy. The experience differs for some, but for me, the passage is like being flicked off like a light. When you come back, you can't tell quite how much time has gone by.
    "Well?" Mara said. She was waiting right outside the Pod. Unusual.
    "He's fine," I said.
    "Pod brought back a second body."
    "That would be David Prince, aspiring murderer. I'll check his photos for a real name as soon as you get out of my face."
    "You're always so cranky when you come back." She smiled, making no effort to conceal the fact her amusement was at my expense. She had just a couple lines around her mouth. She was several years older than me, but you couldn't tell by looking. "Anything snarly?"
    I rubbed my face. "All of it. I got lucky. Or Stephen did. Whichever you prefer."
    "Good. I always hate when it's kids."
    I didn't see what difference it made, but I did not feel like arguing. I jerked my thumb toward the door. "Off to report."
    She didn't press. She was used to me. I fed the Pod my pictures of Prince. It scanned records while I composed my report. I stuck to the facts wherever possible, diverging only when it came time for me to tell Stephen Jaso the truth. Instead, I reported that I'd made a last-gasp followup on all suspects and caught Prince making another trip to the hardware store. In a rented van. Piqued, I'd looked out for it on the day of the abduction and was able to follow it away from the school.
    The Pod took almost as long to finish as I did; Prince had gone under the knife before he'd