Sara drove like a reckless teenager. She almost missed her turn onto the Hood-Franklin Road to head west again, and it wasn"t due to any fog. She passed the Franklin Cemetery, and her mind flashed on Crazy Ike. Ike Ames was just a little off center in the attic, but was not schizoid, and had no record of doing much harm.
Who did Huxley think he was? He had asked to drive in order to keep her car keys, to allow him time to con and cajole her into going indoors.
You"re the one, he had said. “The one what? His next victim?” She gritted her teeth. “I don"t think so!”
You"re the oneThe morning sun hadn"t yet shown but began to lighten the sky from below the horizon. Sara crested the levee at Hood, finding a measure of peace in dawn breaking over the Sacramento River. Seeing the river water u
