"Keep watching, Cassie. When you see the house, look for a sign. The house has a name."

"There – there's the house." Her voice quickened. "It has a sign near the door. The sign says… 'retirement fund.' "

Logan blinked, then glanced at Paul, who mouthed, "Typical."

Logan turned back to Cassie. "Talk to me, Cassie. Is he stopping the car? Is this house where he's going?"

Cassie said, "Wait… we're going past it. Oh. Oh, I see. There's… a boathouse. I think it's a boathouse. I see…"

"What, Cassie? What do you see?"

"It's… a weathervane on top. On the roof. I can see it moving in the breeze. I can… hear it creaking."

"Hear it? Cassie, has he stopped the car?"

She seemed startled. "Oh. Oh, yes, he has. The lights are out. I can see the shape of the boathouse, the darkness of it. But… he knows his way. He's… he's getting her out of the back. Carrying her into the boathouse. She's so little. She hardly weighs anything at all. Ohhhh…"

"Cassie – "

"She's so afraid--"

"Cassie, listen to me. You can only help her by paying attention to what he's doing. Where he's going." He looked at his partner. "Where the hell are they?"

"Almost there. Five minutes."

"Goddammit, she doesn't have five minutes!"

"They're moving as fast as they can, Bob."

Cassie was breathing quickly. "Something's wrong."

Logan stared at her. "What?"

"I don't know. He feels… different about this one. Sly, somehow, and almost… amused. He means to give the cops something new. He – oh. Oh, God. He has a knife. He wants to just cut her open – " Her voice was thready with grief and horror. "He wants to… he wants to… taste…"

"Cassie, listen to me. Get out. Get out, now."

Logan 's partner started forward. "Bob, if she stays with him, she might be able to help us."