He looked at her coldly. “Do you?”

That sobered her a little.

Maybe Daddy should’ve tried some of Louis’s brand of psychology.

Then Louis walked her off somewhere as the girl clutched the Tampax box like treasure.

I dropped down from the window, hidden there in the dark in my dark clothes with a gun in my hand and my back to the log cabin, and I smiled.

When I’d come out into the night, armed like this, it hadn’t been to effect a rescue. Whatever else they were, Harry and Louis were dangerous men, and I had to be ready to protect my ass. And if I was going to spend my sleepless night satisfying my curiosity and assuaging my boredom by poking into their business, I had to be ready to pay for my thrills.

So I sat in the cold and dark and decided, finally, that it just didn’t matter who or what was behind it. My options were to go home, and forget about it, and try (probably without any luck) to get some sleep; or to rescue this somewhat soiled damsel in distress.

And if I went home, they’d kill this girl.

What the hell. I had nothing better to do.

I went to the front door and knocked.

No answer.

Shit, I knew somebody was home, so I knocked again.

Then I got right against the door, putting my ear to the wood, so I could gauge their reaction within…

Harry was saying, “Who the fuck is that? Who could that be?”

Louis was calming him, saying, “Could be that security company the owner told us about-on patrol. Saw lights on.”

TV sound stopped-muted.

Harry’s voice again: “You want me to-”

“No! Hide the shottie…”

“Louis, no one knows we’re here…”

“That’s right-nothing to worry about.”

Louis cracked open the door and peered out and said, “What is it?” and I shot him in the eye.