OBIE GOT BACK to the other building a few minutes later. Part of him wanted to look at Lambert through the telescope, to see what her reaction had been to tonight. Although her kiss probably told him all he needed to know. He imagined her showering and getting ready for work. But maybe she would think about him today too as she went about the important work of the country.

And after that thought Robie refocused on what lay ahead for him. It was time for him to go back to work too.

He checked on Julie and found her sound asleep.

He showered, dressed, and left, setting the alarm.

He drove through the empty streets. His wandering was not aimless. He had places to go, more things to think through.

He passed an MPD cop car going the opposite way, its rack lights blasting blue streaks into the dark. Someone was in trouble. Or dead.

Robie’s first stop was Julie’s home.

He parked a block away and approached the house from the rear. A minute later he was in the duplex. He navigated with a penlight through the dark interior. He knew what he wanted to look at.

Two people being murdered here had set Julie’s flight in motion. The bodies had been removed and the place sterilized. To what degree precisely was the reason Robie was here tonight. At some point the Gettys’ disappearance would prompt calls to the police. They would come here and find the place empty. They would connect that Julie was or at least had been in foster care. They would try to find her. They would fail. They would assume that the Gettys had gone off together for some reason—perhaps to escape accumulated debt or unpaid dealers who wanted payment for the drugs the Gettys were known to have used.

The police would put some time in, but not a lot. Without any evidence of a violent end to the lives of the Gettys, the investigation would be put on the back burner. Big-city police departments did not have the luxury of expending time and resources on cases like this one.

Robie stooped and studied the mark on the wall. Blood, to his eye, but the police might not even notice it. Even if they noticed it they wouldn’t test it. That meant paperwork, tech hours, and lab time. And for what?

But that little smudge was telling Robie something.

Blood spatter. They got all of it except this spot. This spot is not hidden. It’s in plain view. They should’ve cleaned it off, or painted over it like they did on the other section.

Robie straightened. That mark was a message.

The Gettys were dead. He had never doubted that.

But who was the message meant for?

They knew that Julie was aware her parents were dead. She had seen it happen.

Was it for one of the Gettys’ friends? Who might want to talk to the police, but wouldn’t if they knew they’d been killed?

That was a stretch, thought Robie. The friend might never see this mark or know what it was if they did spot it.

But I would find it. I would know what it is.

He searched the rest of the house, ending in Julie’s bedroom. He shined his tiny light around. He saw a stuffed bear in a corner lying on its side. He picked it up, put it in the knapsack he’d brought with him. There was a photo of Julie and her parents next to her bed. He put that in the knapsack too.

He’d give them to Julie when he saw her again.

His next stop was Rick Wind’s. Not his place of business where someone cut his tongue out and then stuck it down his throat. He was heading to Rick Wind’s house in Maryland.

But he would not get there. At least not tonight.

His phone buzzed.

It was Blue Man.

“We found your handler. You can come and see what’s left of him.”