And for a moment I felt their confusion. Real fear will do that to

you root you dumb and empty to the spot, bankrupt of ideas. I could

feel a whirling inside me.

"Look," said Steve finally, "I think you're right. We have to try to

find her. But we won't be doing any good going off half-cocked, will

we. I mean, what if this is just some elaborate asshole practical joke

of hers? You know Casey. Whatifshe'sjustspoofingyou? You didn't

actually see anything. How can you be sure?"

Try mixing terror and frustration together sometime. You get a fine

rage. I felt like I was exploding. My hands were making fists on his

shirt collar before I even knew what I was up to.

"You want to see the fucking joke? You want to see it? Come on!"

I dragged him to his feet. He didn't fight me. I pushed and dragged

him down the hall, anger pouring out of me in huge burly waves. Kim

followed, trying to get me off him. She hadn' the muscle for it. When

we got to the stairs, I shoved him to one side and marched down in

front of them, through the kitchen and down into the cellar.

The anger made me stupid and careless. If anyone had been waiting for

us it would have been a very simple matter bringing me down. I was

lucky, though. The basement was empty.

I waited for them at the foot of the stairs. I walked them past the

piles of storage and threw my beam on the hole in the wall. Seeing it

made the fury rumble up again. I grabbed Steve by the back of the

neck. I forced him down in front of it.

"Smell it," I hissed at him. "Smell it, goddamn you! Inside. That's

where I found her bag. She's in there. You think it's fucking funny?

You think that's a joke?"

I saw something tumble off his cheek.

"Clan, I..."

I let him go. He pulled away. I'd wounded him, all right. I watched

him wipe his eyes. I felt great and wonderful. I felt like a damn

bully.

Kim moved between us and faced me.

"Are you through now?"

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