Page 70 of Bad Medicine

“Oh,” she said. “Yes, somewhat.They keep to themselves, mostly. Not real neighborly, if you know what I mean.I’ve only lived here for six months, but that was long enough to see thatsomething was going on in that house.”

“Like what?” Joe asked.

“Fighting. Keith and Carrie,all they did was fight. You’d think they were husband and wife instead offather and daughter.”

“You heard them?” I asked. “Didyou happen to hear anything from Henry?”

“Only once in a while somethingwould drift from their house, usually while I was out walking Dexter.” Shehefted the dog. “A loud voice, a crash…” She hesitated. “Just things that mademe wonder.”

“And the boy?” I prompted.

She backed up a step and puther stare on her dog instead of me. “I knew something wasn’t right,” she said.“I should’ve called the police. But what would I have said? I think theneighbors are hurting the little boy? They’d have asked what made me thinkthat, and I didn’t have anything concrete, really. So…” She shrugged.

“It might have been enough toget them to check,” Joe said, but his voice was tired. “Never hurts to try.”

“I should have,” she said. “I’msorry.”

“What else can you tell us?” Iasked, gently.

“Well,” she said, glancingtoward the Sims’ house, and though there was uneasiness in that glance, therewas also determination. “I could be wrong, but I heard on the news that Carrieand Henry left the house together. She’s turned up dead, and he’s missing.”

“Yes?” I prompted, when shestopped.

She lowered her voice. “I waslooking out my window when Carrie left. I’m often looking out my window. Notmuch to see in my house, you know, and sometimes I watch the comings and goingsin the neighborhood. Well, I saw Carrie leave. But Henry…I didn’t see him. Now,maybe she’d sent him to wait in the car before I got to my window, youunderstand. All I know is, when she got into the car, she was alone.”

Joe and I traded glances.

“Did you tell the police that?”Joe asked.

“Well, no. You see, it was justso busy over here, and I needed time to think about it, because I wasn’t sure.But the more I thought, the stranger it seemed, and I’m nearly positive Henrywasn’t in the car when she left.” Again, she glanced toward the house. “And ifhe wasn’t with her, then maybe…” She looked at Joe. “Maybe he’s still in thathouse. Somewhere.”

“The police would have gonethrough the house,” Joe told her, then he looked at me. “Wouldn’t they?”

“Yes. But maybe they missedsomething.”

“I hope you find him, whereverhe is,” she said, then turned to hurry back to her own house.

“Thank you,” I called.

“What do you think?” Joe asked,as we stood outside my car, our stares on the dark Sims house.

My ringtone sounded, loud and jarringthere in the breathless, cold silence of the foggy night, causing me to jump.“Damn you, Max,” I said. “I’m going to need to change that ringtone.” And onceagain, the circumstances lent a foreboding eeriness to a song that was anythingbut.

Joe played air guitar,lip-synching to the song until finally I yanked my phone free of my pocket andsilenced it.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered.“Lucy? Everything okay?”

Her voice was groggy. “I justwoke up. Are you at the little boy’s house?”

“Yes.” I didn’t ask her how sheknew—if she’d just awakened, then she would have dreamed it.

“Everything you’re looking foris right there,” she said. “The boy is locked away. The shapeshifter is there. There’sa gun. And there’s blood.”

A dark figure raced down thestreet and straight for the Sims’ house, and I didn’t have to wonder about whoit was. “Sam,” I bellowed, and automatically shoving my phone into my pocket, Iwent after him.

We were both extraordinarilyfast, but it didn’t matter. Before he could reach the front door and I couldreach him, the sound of a gunshot came from inside the house.

The door was locked, soSam—dressed in what looked like a fourteen-year-old goth’s skin—simply rammedit with his shoulder, almost gently, and the door flew open.