"Why? You're going to talk to them about this, aren't you?"

"The less you know, the better you'll sleep."

"Richard..."

"No. Anything I say about it will just upset you."

"But you're a security expert, not any sort of a sanctioned law officer. If you get in trouble with them what happens to Michael?"

"You don't need to worry about it." Richard held his gaze a moment, allowing his friend time to settle.

Dr. Sam relaxed infinitesimally; it was enough.

Richard continued. "Michael needs to drop out of sight for the present. As soon as you're done treating him, we're going elsewhere to safer ground."

Sam shook his head. "The kid's not a car you can just bring in for a tune-up then drive out again. For the kind of shock he's had, he will need round-the-clock help. You should get him to a hospital, find a good child psychologist- do you see where I'm going with this?"

"Yes, Sam, but I can't. The people behind this are professional killers. Michael is a witness. If they find him, they will murder him and anyone else with him. I'm taking a risk with your life bringing him here."

"Then get him police protection."

"No. I do not trust the police to be able to take care of him; there are too many ways his presence can be leaked to the wrong ears. The man responsible has money enough to buy kings, much less anyone else."

"Even when he murders children?"

Richard fixed him with a "what do you think?" look. "You said you don't understand that sort of evil."

"All right, I get the point, but just where do you plan to take him?"

Richard had no ready answer. He had some idea of calling on the local security man for Arhyn-Hill and taking it from there.

"You can't just leave the boy off at a day care center," Sam argued. "Not in his condition. Any good one would be the first to phone the authorities. Keep him here."

"I can't ask you to volunteer."

"No, but I will anyway. It's what I'm good at, remember? I'm Crusader Rabbit with a tongue depressor instead of a lance."

"You don't know anything about dodging bullets."

Sam snorted. "That wet-eared kid you rescued way back when has since picked up a few survival clues by osmosis, though I'm open to suggestions."

Richard hesitated, but no better option presented itself to him. And he could trust Sam and his staff to be bribe- proof. "All right, but you absolutely have to keep him out of sight, smuggle him home in a laundry bag if you must, but no one sees him."

"I think we can manage. How long will this take?"

"Not sure, but I'll be making arrangements to get him away from here in a day or so." Richard wrote out Bourland's name and number. "This man is your emergency guardian angel, should you need one. He's in Toronto, but he has a long reach. I'll see to it he knows who you are."

"Emergency, okay. How much can I tell Helen? I'll be needing her help."

"As much as you deem necessary. Tell her the boy is a witness to a crime and needs to disappear. I had my eyes open on the way over; I don't think I was followed, but the killer may know the connection between Arhyn-Hill Oil and this place and could come calling, just to be thorough."

"You're not exaggerating, are you?"

"Not one bit. I think once you're done here for the day you should close up as usual, then overnight elsewhere."

Richard got his wallet out and peeled off half the bills in it, putting the stack of hundreds on the desk.

Sam's eyebrows jumped at the amount. "Come on, you don't have to pay me-"

"Operating expenses... and for the extra blood I need. Is it... ?"

"Yeah, in the fridge."

"Good. Have you a cell phone?"

"Helen has one. I have a pager."

"I'll want both numbers; you've still got mine? It's for emergencies only, though. And if it's that bad, then you call Bourland, too."

Sam had a short discussion with Helen, who had no objection to looking after Michael for the next few days.

Details were settled out, then Richard went to see the boy again.

With the dirt off, Michael was several shades lighter than before, now dressed in a faded, but otherwise clean shirt and shorts that were more or less his size, rubber beach thongs on his feet. Apparently the clinic dealt with a number of children being brought in possessing only the clothes on their backs and kept a donation bin for such emergencies.

Another bin held toys. Med-Mission was a thorough place.

Richard pulled a low stool over to the examination table and sat before Michael. "You're looking better. How are you?"

The boy would only stare at the floor.

With one finger, Richard slowly tilted Michael's head up so he could see his pale blue eyes. Empty eyes. He focused hard, trying to touch the mind behind them. Helen somberly stood close to one side, but he didn't think she'd notice what he was attempting. "Michael, it's all right. You're safe. No one will hurt you any more. You can speak now. You are safe."

God, he was so young, much too young for such a burden.

As if in response to the thought, Michael's chin crumpled a little.

"It's all right..." Richard concentrated, hardly daring to breathe. "I know what happened, but you're safe."

A tear seeped out and rolled down Michael's cheek, dropping cold on Richard's hand. With it, a feeling of overwhelming sadness came over him-so strong that it was physical, like a blow; he felt ready to weep anew himself.

"It's all right," he lied, fighting to keep his voice from cracking.

"Mommy." One word from the boy, whispered so soft as to barely be heard.

Helen shifted slightly in reaction.

"Yes, Michael, I know-"

"Mommy!" This time, he screamed it. He pushed violently away from Richard and threw himself at Helen, wailing uncontrollably. She caught and held him close like a baby, rocking him back and forth.

"He needs a little time," she told Richard, tears trailing down her face in sympathy. "This is good, what's happened.

He just needs a little time."

He nodded, squeezed her shoulder, and backed off to where Sam stood in the doorway. "Let's give them some space," said Sam, herding him out.

"I should be there for him."

"You already have been, but he's not ready for more. He's probably regressed a bit. He's a scared little boy who only wants his mother, and Helen is a close enough substitute. Let him have that for now."

Richard nodded acquiescence. Reluctantly. He could still hear Michael's sobbing.

Sam gave him another once-over. "You won't do him any good the state you're in. You need rest-or at least a time-out."

But Richard's phone warbled before he could reply. He fished it out.

Bourland was on the other end. "Get a pen," he said. "I've got some of those codes, and God help us both if you lose them. Only their own agents are supposed to have these."

It seemed best not to warn him about the cell phone. The risk was small that anyone was listening in; besides, agency access codes were always being changed. Richard found pen and paper, printing everything out carefully on one of Sam's prescription pads.

"That's for the FBI and DEA only," said Bourland. "I might be able to get more on Monday, but everyone I know that I can trust to keep quiet is off for the weekend."

"It's a start. Thank you, Philip. Can you filter it in to someone the possibility that Alejandro may be in this country? An alert sent out by the proper channels..."

"Already done, but it'll be a matter of pure luck if he's spotted. If he ever was in Texas, he's probably well gone by now."

Too true. Alejandro was a smart man. Not the sort to put himself at risk, according to his brother. Anyone else was fair game, though.

"What about Michael?" Bourland asked. "Have you-"

Richard filled him in on the boy's condition and change in situation, giving Bourland names and numbers. "Dr.

George will look after him very well; he's in first-rate hands, I promise."

"I'm still coming down there. Monday."

"But-"

"I can pull strings from anyplace with a phone. I need to be there... to make arrangements. For them."

Poor Bourland. This was all he had left to give Stephanie, to take her and her daughters home for burial. "Yes, very well. Stay with me at New Karnak. I've plenty of room. I'll tell security to expect you and let you in."

"Won't Alejandro know about your penthouse?"

"At this point I don't know if he's even aware of my existence, but the place is listed as a corporate expense for Arhyn-Hill, and access is extremely limited. It's safe." Safe enough for me, old friend. Perhaps not for Michael, but that worry was off his shoulders for the time being. "Philip, what can you organize concerning Michael?"

"Organize?"

"I want to get him out of the country. He'll need a passport, won't he?" Richard's knowledge about international travel for children was hazy.

Bourland understood instantly. "Yes, I'll get right on that. Excellent idea."

They rang off. Richard folded the phone and tucked it away. He tore off several of the top sheets from the pad and tucked those away as well, shrugging an apology to Sam for the misuse of office supplies.

"You're not going to rest, are you?" asked Sam.

"Later. I've work to do."

"Meaning you'll be hunting this Alejandro?"

"Yes."

"You going to kill him?"

Richard thought a moment, realizing that only the truth would serve for his friend. "Yes. With great pleasure." Sam nodded, apparently expecting just that answer. He wasn't happy with it, but knew better than to argue.

"They've got a saying in this neighborhood about that sort of thing."

"Yes?"

" 'Have fun... but don't get caught.' "

Chapter Nine

Richard slipped the bags of blood into the vegetable bin, slapped the refrigerator door shut, then shed his coat and black Stetson onto the kitchen table. He went straight to his computer in the living room, hitting the power buttons to wake it up, going through the technical rituals necessary to access the databases he needed. It seemed to take forever.

As he waited for the information to appear, he considered an upgrade. It used to be every year was enough, then every six months; advances were now coming so fast and thick these days it was impossible to keep up. He'd not been down here since last fall, more than sufficient time for this machine to become antiquated, given his special requirements.

He thought about the mundane, rather than the fact that his last Dallas visit had little to do with company business. He'd appeared at Stephanie's door with a stack of pizza boxes, a bottle of good wine for the adults, and some toys for...

Damn.

He pushed the memory away. Hard. The touch of it on his heart was too cold and heavy to bear.

The DEA screen came up, asking for a password. He carefully entered the code Bourland had provided and was gratified when it worked. After that, it was only a matter of delving into what they had on the Trujillo brothers. He traced Luis first just to see if there was anything new on him. Their interest in him mostly stopped the same day that Richard had gotten the whole family to disappear. Good. So far as it went.

Next, he concentrated on Alejandro, with mixed results. The latest report was three months old, placing him firmly and unreachably in Colombia. He'd taken quite a financial setback when Luis turned on him, but seemed to be recovering. In the gap left by the other drug lords' arrests and confiscation of stock, Alejandro had stepped in, taking up the slack and raising the prices. According to some conservative estimates, he was making as much now as before and looked to be expanding his business geometrically. Such was the nature of demand and supply.