Текст книги "The Naked Edge"

Автор книги: David Morrell

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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

^{The noisy lobby was crowded with law-enforcement officers, the overflow from a crammed conference room. Two men in uniforms, one police, one military, pushed through and spoke to Rutherford.}

^{"Not enough room for a briefing," Rutherford said when he returned. "We're switching locations to the National Guard armory."}

^{Time , Cavanaugh thought. Even though, it's eight-fifteen in the morning, we'll soon run out of day.}

^{"For that matter, I'm told the armory might not be large enough," Rutherford said, hurrying with them from the police station. "The current estimate is, we need at least a thousand people to seal off that park. Police officers and sheriffs are coming in from all over the state. We've got FBI agents and U.S. marshals flying from as far as St. Louis, Denver, Minneapolis, and Chicago. Through Homeland Security, we also received permission to use the local detachment of the National Guard."}

^{"Another alert," William said. "Another stress on a severely stressed system."}

^{"Reminds me of New Orleans," Jamie said. "Let's hope for a simpler outcome."}

^{"Damn it." A policeman pointed. "Here comes a reporter."}

^{Chapter 22.}

^{The armory filled rapidly. Its high ceiling caused a harsh echo as hundreds of military and law enforcement personnel gathered in front of a platform. Behind a podium, a large map of Willow Creek Park hung from a portable blackboard.}

^{Standing to the side, Jamie said, "I don't see how they can get organized soon enough."}

^{"John has a lot of amazing skills," Cavanaugh told her. He pointed toward where Rutherford spoke to a half-dozen intense civilians, all of them holding notepads and tape recorders.}

^{" . . . let you observe the briefing," he heard Rutherford say. ". . . let you take notes and–"}

^{"Photographs? What about photographs?" a reporter demanded.}

^{"Only at the end. But I don't want you printing anything until I tell you."}

^{"We can't promise that."}

^{"It's a matter of national security."}

^{"What are you talking about? What's the emergency?"}

^{"In return for complete access, I want you to swear you won't leak the story. If word about what's happening reaches the general population, we'll have so many curiosity seekers at the park, our target might slip away."}

^{"Park? Target?"}

^{"Watch, listen, and learn," Rutherford said, mounting the podium.}

^{He did indeed have a lot of amazing skills, not the least of which was the clear, authoritative way he conducted the briefing. As the disparate group concentrated on what he said, they stood straighter, assuming similar body language, showing signs of coalescing into a unit. The information that their objective was related to the terrorist attack in New Orleans and the subsequent nationwide manhunt certainly got their attention.}

^{"At three hundred hours tomorrow morning, we'll secure the four approaches to the park." Using a red flashlight beam, Rutherford indicated areas on the map. "Once we know he can't escape, we'll wait until daylight. There's no use going in blind. The northern flank will progress into the search area, checking every conceivable place where someone might hide. The other flanks will remain in position to make sure the target stays trapped. Some of you might be wondering why every flank doesn't converge on the park, squeezing him into the center. That way, all of you would be part of the action. The answer is, we don't want you shooting each other in a crossfire if the target puts up a fight."}

^{The group was so confident about their skills that they assumed Rutherford was joking. They chuckled, continuing to bond.}

^{"We've got a great deal to accomplish in a very short time. Equipment. Weapons. Transportation. Timing. There'll be two staging areas: here and a high school a half mile from the park." Rutherford looked toward an official at the side. "West High. Is that right?"}

^{The official nodded.}

^{"After the students go home, we'll conduct practice drills in the track behind the school. Before we enter the search area, the streets near the park need to be blocked off. We also need to evacuate the homes that border the park. This is Special Agent Murphy from the FBI office in Des Moines. She'll organize you into north, south, east, and west units, as well as traffic diversion and evacuation teams. After that . . ."}

^{One hour later, with the briefing almost concluded, Rutherford said, "Finally I want to introduce a man who knows the target intimately. They grew up here. They played in that park so often that it was practically their backyard. They served in the military together. They worked as protective agents together."}

^{Cavanaugh climbed to the platform. Hundreds of faces studied him. New personnel entered through a door in back. He took the microphone from Rutherford. It made an electronic hum, then settled down.}

^{"I won't take long. You're tired of listening. You want to get started."}

^{They nodded, their eyes bright with the urge to hunt.}

^{"When you see the park, you might conclude that there's little cover and it won't be hard to find him. You might feel confident because there are so many of you and you're going against only one man. Those attitudes could get you killed. Never forget that your quarry is ex-Delta Force. He has world-class training in camouflage and concealment. Fighting in unexpected ways is one of his specialties. Death is one of his specialties. When you go into that park tomorrow morning, you're entering his world. Suspect everything."}

^{An FBI agent raised a hand. "But surely he realizes there's a good chance you won't show up alone tonight. Why would he gamble you won't turn him in?"}

^{"Actually, I think he expects me to betray him by bringing help," Cavanaugh said.}

^{The group looked puzzled.}

^{"He wants to prove how superior he is," Cavanaugh continued. "For him, everything's a competition. He doesn't care if I bring even a small army to catch him. He's telling me he can outsmart all of you."}

^{Chapter 23.}

^{"Ten feet apart! No more than that!" Rutherford shouted. "We don't want any gaps in the line. On command, you'll step forward at the steady pace you've been practicing. Supervisors will follow, making certain each line remains straight. Most of you will keep your eyes toward the ground. Every eighth man will study the trees in case the target tries to hide in one. Each hollow. Each pile of leaves. Each fallen tree limb. Assume they conceal the target. Some of you will be in the creek bed. Look for tracks. Look for evidence that someone dug into a bank. If any of you think you've spotted something, blow the whistle you've been given. The line will stop while a team behind you checks the area in question. Your supervisors will tell you when to move forward again.}

^{"Each of you has a firearm. Remember to keep it aimed ahead of you toward the ground or, if you're the eighth man, upward toward the trees. You know the basics. Do not point your weapon at anything you don't intend to destroy. Do not put your finger on the trigger unless you intend to pull it. Do not fire unless you're aware of what's behind your target. In other words, gentlemen and ladies, don't shoot each other. The rules of engagement are as follows. Capture, if possible. But remember, the target is ruthless and dangerous to an extreme. We want to interrogate him, but not at the expense of anyone's life."}

^{Chapter 24.}

^{"The personnel at the armory will be driven to the high school before dark," Rutherford told Cavanaugh after the briefing. "We'll use school buses. No one will pay attention to school buses going to a school. Starting at two hundred hours, each unit will walk the half mile from the school to the park. I don't want the noise from a lot of buses warning the target that we're coming. He might slip away before we're all in place. En route to the search area, the teams will be under orders not to talk.Can you think of anything else?"}

^{"Rig a plane with an infra-red camera," Cavanaugh said. "Tonight, have the pilot fly over the park while someone takes photographs. Maybe you'll get Carl's heat signature on the pictures. You might find out where he's hiding."}

^{"Please, remember my client's cooperation when his trial starts," William said.}

^{Chapter 25.}

^{The teams consumed hundreds of pizzas and sodas in the school's cafeteria. Afterward, they sprawled in the corridors and the gymnasium. Knowing that they'd soon be on the move, they dozed as best they could. At 1:30, they were wakened. They used the toilets whether they felt the urge or not. At two, they left the building. In the dark, a cold breeze made them zip their coats shut and shift from one foot to the other. As they assembled in their assigned groups, they heard a plane fly over.}

^{Obeying the command not to speak, they hiked to the park. By three, they reached their appointed areas, spread out in lines that flanked the park, and waited. Lights came on in houses behind them. Troubled questions prompted orders to evacuate, automobiles soon driving away. Then the night became quiet.}

^{Just before five, it started to drizzle.}

^{Chapter 26.}

^{"Rain!" Rutherford's voice was loud inside the van. "The forecast predicted it wouldn't start until late afternoon!"}

^{"Inexact science," Cavanaugh said.}

^{"By then, we'd have caught Duran! We'd have been out of here!"}

^{The downpour pelted the van's window. At 6:30, what should have been a brilliant dawn was a dismal gray.}

^{"Where are we going to find rain gear at this hour!" Rutherford complained. "The men are soaked! They'll get hypothermia!"}

^{A car sped toward the van and skidded to a stop on the slick pavement.}

^{"Finally," Rutherford said.}

^{A man hurried from the car. Flecked with moisture, he scrambled inside the van and handed a manila envelope to Rutherford. "Here are your photos."}

^{Impatient, Rutherford sorted through them. Frowning, he handed them to Cavanaugh. "See anything?"}

^{"A few hot spots," Cavanaugh said. "This one's so small it's probably a squirrel. This other one looks like a dog."}

^{"But no heat signature that looks like it came from a human being?"}

^{Cavanaugh studied the photos a final time. "No."}

^{"Then he lied to you, or you misunderstood the place he meant. He's not in there."}

^{"Wrong," Cavanaugh said. "This is definitely the place, and this is part of his game."}

^{"But a human being gives off heat. The infra-red image would show it if he's in the park."}

^{"Unless he shielded himself so a camera wouldn't detect the heat."}

^{"Buried himself?"}

^{"It's one possibility."}

^{"In that case, we don't have to worry because he's drowned by now!"}

^{"He might not even be wet. After all, he was trained to plan for the worst. But even if he is soaked, he doesn't care. These conditions are luxurious compared to some of what we went through in Delta Force."}

^{"You know," Rutherford said, "I'm getting tired of hearing about the good old days in Delta."}

^{"You did say you wanted my opinion."}

^{"And what's your opinion of what we ought to do now?"}

^{"Get started."}

^{Chapter 27.}

^{". . . your chance to end this peacefully and give yourself up! " Rutherford's amplified words drifted across the park. He used a public-address system, the speakers of which were mounted to the top of the van.}

^{He waited. Two minutes became five. He turned from the rain on the windshield. "Counselor, I asked him three times. I put a lot of sincerity into it. Do you think that's enough fair warning?" Without waiting for an answer, he raised his microphone and said, " Go! "}

^{On the right, the northern flank moved into the park while those on the south, west, and east formed barricades.}

^{Cavanaugh opened the van's side door.}

^{"What are you doing?"}

^{"Getting some exercise."}

^{The van was on Teg Drive, a street that bordered the eastern side of the park. Feeling the cold rain pelt his head, Cavanaugh passed through the line of men on that side and followed the northern flank as it continued into the park.}

^{Initially, there weren't any obstacles, just the creek flowing through a grassy field. Then the searchers reached trees along the creek and slowed their advance. Dead wet leaves lay along the creek, their autumn colors now dull.}

^{Sensing someone next to him, Cavanaugh turned and saw Jamie.}

^{He smiled.}

^{"You'll get soaked," she said.}

^{"So will you," he replied.}

^{"Yeah, but walking in the rain is romantic," she told him.}

^{While some searchers examined the area among the trees, others came to a playground: swings, slides, climbing equipment. They passed metal picnic tables. They reached a shelter and checked its washrooms as well as it rafters. They looked under a bridge that crossed the creek. They attempted to pry up a storm-drain lid, but it was too heavy. They peered into various garbage cans secured in wooden frames. More trees. Another bridge. Another. They arrived at the new playground that a sign said was called Kiwanis Park. Climbing equipment was nestled in a grotto surrounded by rock walls and fir trees. An open shelter had picnic tables under it. Its rafters were exposed, no place to hide.}

^{That was it. They'd come to the southern flank of men, houses behind them. The end of the park.}

^{Suddenly, Rutherford crossed the soaked grass toward Cavanaugh and Jamie.}

^{"Nothing!" he said, flicking rain from his face. "Mosely was right! Duran's playing games with us! He isn't here!"}

^{"That was just a first pass." Cavanaugh's wet clothes stuck to him. "They checked the obvious things. Now they should go through the park again, noticing details."}

^{"What about the neighboring houses? He might be hiding in a garage or a shed."}

^{"No. The houses aren't in the park. When we played the game, we never broke the rules and went out of bounds."}

^{Rutherford shook his head unhappily and walked to the men who'd searched the area. He spoke to the officer in charge, who looked eager to get out of the rain but who nodded and shouted orders, motioning for the line to reverse direction.}

^{Rutherford came back to Cavanaugh and Jamie. "Show me the details that bothered you."}

^{"The ground under every picnic table needs to be checked," Cavanaugh said, walking.}

^{Rutherford thought about it. "Sure. The grass under some of them is worn away until there's only dirt. If he dug a hole there, it would be easier to disguise than if he dug up the grass. The problem is, he'd need a cover, something solid that he could put dirt on and slide over the hole after he got in."}

^{"When we drove into town, I noticed a half-dozen construction sites," Cavanaugh said. "The night before last, he could have grabbed a square of plywood and something to dig with."}

^{"Where would he have put the dirt from the hole?"}

^{"Spread along the creek bed. Covered with leaves."}

^{"How would he have carried it?"}

^{"In a bag he found at a construction site. An empty cement bag is strong enough to hold forty pounds."}

^{"But the dirt on the plywood lid would look freshly dug."}

^{"Not if Carl packed it down until he was satisfied that it looked like the dirt under all the other benches. Leaves on the lid would hide the cracks at the edges."}

^{"Ventilation?"}

^{"A tube coming up next to a table leg."}

^{"Well, if that's where he's hiding," Rutherford concluded, "he's in rising water. He'll need to climb out soon."}

^{"You'd be surprised how snug and dry you can make a hole in the ground with a little help from a plastic sheet."}

^{"More of the good old days in Delta?"}

^{"Actually, the good old days when Carl and I were kids. This is one of the tricks he used against me."}

^{Chapter 28.}

^{In the rain, the line searched the park in greater detail, moving picnic tables, looking under play equipment, examining the edges of shelters for signs that someone had dug under the concrete pads. They found nothing.}

^{"They need to do it again," Cavanaugh said. "Those garbage cans in wooden frames. Let's push them aside and see if Carl's in a hole under one of them."}

^{Carl wasn't.}

^{"That storm-drain lid needs to be pried up. The tunnel needs to be checked."}

^{But the tunnel was filled with water.}

^{"Look for evidence that Carl dug under the concrete paths."}

^{Four hours and five crossings later, Rutherford said firmly, "We're wasting our time. He isn't here."}

^"But–"

^{"Either he tricked you, or else you made a mistake about the place he meant."}

^{"This is it. There's no other place."}

^{Rutherford studied the shivering, wet, exhausted men. Many of them coughed. Wind gusted. Dark clouds thickened. "I'm calling off the search."}

^{"No. Please."}

^{"They've been out here since three in the morning," Rutherford said. "Somebody'll end up in the hospital."}

^{"Just one more time."}

^{"To prove that you're wrong? As far as Mosely's concerned, that would be the only good thing to come out of this. Okay, Aaron. Just for you. One more time."}

^{They probed the sand under the playground equipment. Farther along, they did the same to the wood chips around the climbing-gym.}

^{Yet again, they found nothing.}

^{Water trickling down his face, Rutherford pointed toward TV news cameras near the park. "They should air this after a Three Stooges marathon. I can only hope the rain blurs any shots they took of me." He turned toward the searchers. "We're finished, everybody! The buses will arrive soon! We'll take you somewhere warm and dry!"}

^{"Coffee," someone said.}

^{"Steaming pots of it," Rutherford promised. He stared at a puddle in the grass. "A thousand men. Some flew in from across the country. Food. Lodging. Buses. Vans. Weapons. Equipment." He gazed up at Cavanaugh. "Nothing to show for it. Mosely's waiting for me to report to him. I can imagine his reaction when I tell him how much everything cost. This time tomorrow, I might be looking for a new job."}

^{Shoulders bent, Rutherford walked toward Teg Drive and the van. The lines disintegrated, soaked men wandering toward the nearby streets.}

^{Burdened with discouragement, Cavanaugh remained in the middle of the field. Jamie stood next to him, the rain gusting at them. Emptiness made him feel colder.}

^{"Want to take a stroll?" he asked.}

^{"It's been a fabulous experience so far. Let's prolong it as much as possible."}

^{He couldn't help smiling. "I love you."}

^{"Of course, you do. I don't want diamonds or fancy clothes. All I want is to share the glamour of your life."}

^{Chapter 29.}

^{They walked east of the park and reached an upward-sloping street called Hafor Drive. As the rain strengthened, Cavanaugh held Jamie's hand and went a half block before stopping in front of a gray, two-story, colonial house. It had carefully pruned evergreen shrubs, an ambitious flower garden (now wilted in autumn), and a well-maintained lawn.}

^{"This is where I lived. In my memory, every house on the street is a brilliant white. But as you see, they're all different in reality. Gray. Brown. Blue. Maybe they always were. I guess I only imagined they gleamed." Cavanaugh pointed toward the second level. "There, on the left, that was my bedroom. The house on that side had the dog I played with."}

^{"The one that disappeared?"}

^{"Yes. The house farther along on the left is where Carl lived. Now that I think about it, in my memory that one definitely doesn't gleam. I knew too much about Carl's father and what went on inside that house. So long ago." Cavanaugh turned to look down the street toward the rain-veiled park. "I can see Carl and me on the sidewalk, heading for the creek and those trees."}

^{Cavanaugh became silent.}

^{The rain gusted.}

^{"I know he's down there."}

^{Chapter 30.}

^{They lay under blankets on a motel-room bed, but despite a long, hot shower, they still had trouble getting warm. Beyond closed draperies, the sound of the rain lessened. Afternoon became evening. Shadows deepened. They held one another.}

^{Someone knocked on the door.}

^{A blanket around him, Cavanaugh crossed the room. Standing next to the door, avoiding the peep hole, which could be a target for a bullet, he asked, "Who is it?" The response made him open the door, allowing William to enter.}

^{"Hi, Jamie," William said cheerily, as if accustomed to seeing her in bed.}

^{"Hi, William," she said from her pillow, as if receiving a visitor in this manner was the most natural thing in the world.}

^{Cavanaugh locked the door.}

^{William had two garment bags draped over an arm. "Here are the clothes you asked me to bring from the Gulfstream. Jeans. Pullovers. Jackets. Socks. Shoes. Underwear. I'm quickly becoming the most expensive errand boy in the legal community."}

^{"Except that we can't afford to pay you any longer," Cavanaugh said.}

^{"The distraction factor is payment enough. Rutherford says that he still has some loose ends to take care of, that we won't be flying out of here until the morning."}

^{"Does that ruin your schedule?"}

^{"Not at all. I went to Harvard with the dean of the University of Iowa's law school. I'm having dinner with him tonight."}

^{"Every city you come to, you have a connection."}

^{"I win friends and influence people."}

^{"Intimidate them into submission is more like it."}

^{"Oh, I almost forgot. I needed to set something down when I knocked." William opened the door and retrieved a large paper bag marked with the logo for Kentucky Fried Chicken.}

^{"How could you forget you brought food?" Jamie asked with delight.}

^{Chapter 31.}

^{In the night, she wakened, reached for Cavanaugh, but didn't feel him. Outside, the night was quiet, the rain having stopped. She glanced toward the bathroom. Its door was open. Its light was off. She switched on the bedside lamp, went to the closet, and found that his clothes were gone.}

^{Chapter 32.}

^{Cavanaugh told the taxi driver to let him off at a convenience store on the end of West Benton Street. He paid and waited until the taxi pulled away. Then he left the harsh lights of the store and walked down the street toward the park. It was on his right, and he was pleased that fog obscured the fields and the creek, making it unnecessary for him to take elaborate precautions to hide his approach.}

^{Where the creek entered the park, he left the sidewalk. Immediately, he unclipped his knife from his pants pocket, allowing the hook on the back of its blade to snag on the pocket, the resistance causing the blade to open. The creek was on his left. He used it as a guide but stayed far enough away that he could respond to the sound of an attacker lunging up from the bed. Soon the hazy glow of the streetlights behind him dimmed, then vanished. As he proceeded over the wet grass, the fog's moist tendrils drifted around him, their chill dampness seeping through his jacket.}

^{He unfocused his eyes, emphasizing the periphery of his vision. The effort produced a strain comparable to forcing himself to be cross-eyed. But in this uncomfortable way, trying to look sideways while peering ahead, he activated the rod-shaped cells in his eyes, the cells that were sensitive in darkness. The technique made it possible for him to see distinctions among shadows, gradations within shades of gray and black.}

^{Having crisscrossed the park numerous times during the day, he had a sense of how far objects were from each other. Strong boyhood memories reinforced his estimate. The spongy grass absorbed his footfalls. Only when he judged that he was within thirty paces of the first stand of trees did he crouch and assess what was ahead. He listened for a long while. Lingering moisture dripped from the trees and bushes. Water trickled along the creek bed. A breeze scraped branches.}

^{He crept ten paces forward and listened again. Hearing nothing to alarm him, he went another ten paces, then turned to the right toward a fog-shrouded field while the periphery of his left eye concentrated on the vague shadows of the trees. With his rod-strengthened vision, he looked for movement that couldn't be attributed to a branch swaying, for a shape that didn't fit the pattern of tree trunks. The rain had caused many bushes to lose their leaves, creating gaps that enabled him to notice if there was a solid shape behind them.}

^{He crept farther ahead. In his experience, nothing was more tense or exhausting than stalking someone in darkness. Patience was everything. Discipline. Control. The irony wasn't lost on him that, because Carl's lack of discipline had been the cause of so much misfortune, Carl would take extra care to prove that he now had more control than Cavanaugh did.}

^{Knife ready, he entered the trees. From the rain, the dead leaves were so soggy that they made no sound under his shoes. In his youth, this section of trees had been almost fifty yards wide and long, but now it was barely ten yards wide and thirty yards long. As wisps of fog drifted past, he crouched with his back against a trunk and turned his head slowly one way and then the other, using his peripheral vision to scan the indistinct branches and bushes.}

^{One minute.}

^{Two minutes.}

^{Three minutes.}

^{This is what you planned, Carl. You knew I'd be forced to act responsibly and betray you. You knew even a small army wouldn't find you. You knew, when the search failed, I'd finally come.}

^{So here I am. Ready when you are. Wherever you're hiding, come out. This is what you wanted, so let's do it. But take your time. I don't want to rush you. I've got all night.}

^{Eight minutes.}

^{Nine minutes.}

^{Ten minutes.}

^{Cavanaugh couldn't risk staying in one position much longer. The chill creeping into his muscles might cramp them if he remained immobile. The same liability applied to Carl. He, too, would need to shift his body. Inching forward, Cavanaugh expected that at any moment a figure would rocket from under leaves, a knife plunging toward him. Despite the cold, he felt nervous sweat trickling down his face.}

^{At once, a noise made him flinch. On his right. Something crashing through the bushes. Low. Breathing hard, a huge dog bounded toward him. Black, it suddenly noticed him and veered through the trees. With equal suddenness, it howled in agony. The howl became yelps as it thrashed grotesquely, snapping branches off bushes, twisting, thudding against a tree. Its frenzy dwindled, its yelps getting weaker. Finally, it lay still.}

^{At distant houses, dogs howled in response. Gradually, the night returned to the quiet of moisture dripping off leaves, the wind scraping branches, and water trickling along the creek. Cavanaugh eased toward the dog–a Labrador retriever, he estimated–and found the stake that had catapulted into its chest when paws tripped a wire.}

^{A booby trap, Carl? After dark, you crawled from your hiding place and arranged a surprise for me? I'm disappointed. Since when are traps in the game?}

^{Rage heating him, Cavanaugh yanked the stake from the dog. He felt along the wire. It was the sort of item routinely discarded on a construction site. He coiled it, put it in a pocket, and inched forward, holding the stake.}

^{Chapter 33.}

^{At the open door to his room, wearing hastily put-on clothes, Rutherford squinted at his watch, his eyes puffy from having been wakened. "Maybe he just went for a walk."}

^{"At one in the morning?" Jamie asked skeptically.}

^{"It was a tough night and day. He must have a lot on his mind, a lot to rethink."}

^{"He's gone to the park."}

^{"You don't know that for a fact."}

^{"I know him. There isn't anywhere else he'd go."}

^{"What do you expect me to do, tell those thousand men to go back to the park? Even if I wanted to, I couldn't get them organized before dawn. Did you watch the evening news? Did you see how foolish we looked? For sure, Mosely would demand my resignation if I repeated today's farce."}

^{"No," Jamie said, "I don't expect you to tell those thousand men to go back to the park."}

^{"Thank heaven."}

^{"I expect that you and I will go to the park."}

^{"Shit," the Southern Baptist said.}

^{Chapter 34.}

^{Sweat blended with moisture from the fog and trickled down Cavanaugh's face. He lay on his chest on wet grass, assessing the gloom of the next stand of trees. He was sure that a booby trap waited for him in there, also. He tried to imagine Carl's reaction to hearing the dog's agonized howl.}

^{Carl needs to assume I realize what killed the animal. He also needs to assume that I'll now avoid the trees and any other areas where traps can be easily set. He'll decide that I'll shift to the open spaces. He'll focus his hunt in those areas.}

^{That meant Cavanaugh needed to do the opposite of what Carl expected and go farther into the trees. But first he rolled toward a nearby picnic bench. He crawled under. It was a space that would appeal to someone who wanted to hide his silhouette while looking for his prey. Cavanaugh used the wire to bind the stake to a metal leg, the point projecting outward at head level.}

^{Then, ready with his knife, he squirmed from beneath the table and studied the closer gloom of the trees. Probing with the knife, moving it up and down, then right and left, he crawled past a bush. He waited. He listened. With his peripheral vision, he stared at the fog and the shadows. In the distance, the muffled drone of a car proceeded along West Benton Street. His nerves tightened until the sound was gone and he could again concentrate on the faint noises around him.}

^{He shifted deeper into the trees. Immediately, he froze when his knife met resistance. Something thin and taut. A wire. Moving to the side, he discovered a low branch bent sideways and down. Feeling in the darkness, he found that the wire was attached to a rock that weighed down the branch. A stake was tied to the branch. If Cavanaugh had disturbed the wire, the rock would have shifted, the branch would have sprung, and . . .}