She scared the living shit out of him.

When I met his eyes as I handed him the PDW and said, "Get rid of this," the look he gave me said that now I did, too.

"Can it wait until morning?" he asked. "I'll have to pull a guard off the house otherwise."

"Morning's fine."

"It'll go in the Hudson."

I went back into the trunk, hooked the strap on the go-bag, and pulled it onto my shoulder. It was a small nylon duffel, nothing fancy. Inside were two pairs of underpants, one clean shirt, a toothbrush, a set of fresh socks, and what was left of the half million dollars I'd held back from Oxford's money. By my guess, there was about three hundred thousand left, but I wasn't sure, because I hadn't counted.

I pointed to the Civic, asked Dan, "That's for me?"

He looked vaguely embarrassed. "The best I could do so quick, Atticus."

"As long as it gets me to Newark, I'm happy," I told him.

He looked relieved, but not by much, then turned to follow Natalie and Alena as they made their way into the house. I went to the Civic, found the driver's door unlocked; when I opened it, the dome light stayed off. I appreciated that, and I appreciated that Dan had taken the time to disable it. Then again, from the shape of the car, it was just as possible that the bulb had died.

I tossed the go-bag onto the passenger seat, pulled the keys from where they were waiting in the ignition, and dropped them in my pocket. I closed the door again, took a moment for another look around, another listen to the surroundings. The sky was still dark as pitch, and the only sounds I heard were from the woods, rustling dead leaves and shifting branches, and then, from somewhere above me, the sound of something solid knocking on wood.