"Any confirmation on the van?"
"Not visual yet. We deliberately kept surveillance distant."
"Occupants?"
"Unknown."
"Utilities?"
"None."
"Lease?"
"None."
Welden looked around.
"One primary access road from Millstone. Quarter mile, gravel and dirt."
She paused.
"We approach quiet. No sirens. Lights off for the final two hundred yards."
Barrett nodded.
"What about the army outside?"
Welden looked toward the window.
The parking lot beyond it looked like a sea of chrome and black leather.
"Latest count is seven hundred fourteen."
Somebody quietly whistled.
"Brennan has them positioned across roads within five miles. They're observation only."
Barrett looked at Cole.
"They going to follow that?"
"They will," Cole said.
"You sure?"
"Frank told them."
Barrett seemed satisfied.
Welden continued.
"If anybody leaves the area, riders report direction and vehicle. Law enforcement handles contact."
She turned toward Cole.
"Harrington."
Cole straightened.
"You ride with me."
Barrett raised an eyebrow.
Welden continued.
"If Lily is in there and she's been held four days, she may react badly to uniforms."
Cole understood before she finished.
"I want somebody nearby who doesn't look like authority."
She looked at his vest.
"Apparently you look like safety to children."
Cole thought of Harper.
"I'll stay where you tell me."
"Good."
At ten forty, the convoy left.
Welden's sedan led.
Two patrol cars followed.
Then the sheriff's truck.
Sixty riders moved behind them at a distance.
Their headlights stretched along Route 42 like a chain of white stars.
At designated intersections, groups separated.
Ten turned east.
Another eight took a county road south.
Several disappeared toward the old covered bridge.
Two stopped near Highway 9.
Three waited beside an abandoned filling station.
Others traveled to fire trails almost invisible from main roads.
By eleven fifteen, nearly every reasonable route away from the Garrett property had someone watching it.
The hills became quieter the farther Welden drove.
Houses disappeared.
Streetlights vanished.
The road narrowed.
Tree branches formed dark tunnels above the vehicles.
Cole sat in the passenger seat.
Neither he nor Welden spoke much.
After several minutes she asked, "You have children?"
Cole looked out the window.
"Had."
Welden's hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel.
"I'm sorry."
"Five years."
She waited.
Cole did not elaborate.
Welden respected that.
A minute later he said, "Nine years old."
Welden glanced at him.
"Her name was Emma."
That was all.
Welden nodded.
Sometimes one name contained an entire biography.
The Garrett property appeared through the trees.
Welden slowed.
The old farmhouse was barely visible.
The roof had sagged over the porch.
Several windows were broken.
Vines had climbed one wall.
Grass stood high around the foundation.
Two hundred yards beyond it was the barn.
Cole saw the door immediately.
Red.
Even in darkness, it was red.