Logan looked swiftly at his partner, but Paul was already on the cell phone.

"What else, Cassie? What else can you tell me?"

"It's getting harder." Her voice became uncertain, shaky once more. "Harder to stay inside him. I'm so tired."

"I know, Cassie. But you have to keep trying. You have to keep us with him."

As always, she responded to his voice and his insistence, drawing on her pitifully meager reserves of strength to maintain a contact that revolted and terrified her. "I hear her. The little girl. She's crying. She's so afraid."

"Don't listen to her, Cassie. Just him."

"All right." She paused. "He's turning. It's a winding road now. A dirt road. I can see the lake sometimes through the trees."

"Do you see a house?"

"We're passing… driveways, I think. There are houses all around. Houses on the lake."

Logan stepped aside as Paul gestured. "What?"

"There's only one Andover Street close to a lake. It's Lake Temple. Bob, it's only fifteen miles away."

"No wonder she's picking him up so well," Logan muttered. "She's never been this deep before, not inside this bastard. The teams moving?"

"I've got everybody en route. And we're chasing down a list of all the property owners on the lake. I'm told this is one of those places where the people name their houses, give them signs and everything. If we get really lucky…"

"Keep me advised," Logan said, and returned to Cassie.

" Lake Temple," she said, dreamy again. "He likes that name. He thinks it's appropriate."

"Don't listen to what he thinks, Cassie. Just watch. Tell me what he's doing, where he's going."

Five minutes of silence lasted seemingly forever, and then she spoke suddenly.

"We're turning. Into a driveway, I think."

"Do you see any mailboxes?"

"No. No. I'm sorry."

"Keep watching."

"It's a steep driveway. Long. Winding down toward the lake. I see… I think there's a house ahead. Sometimes the headlights touch it…"