several steps away from them.
Wahlberg smiled. “Are you Emma?”
Emma nodded.
“Your husband is worried about you.”
“I have no husband,” Emma said.
“That a fact? Pretty quick divorce.”
“Our marriage was not legal. Not here.”
“Oh.” Wahlberg shifted from foot to foot. “Well, either way, I guess you got a right to leave him. I just stopped by to make sure you weren’t being held prisoner against your will. This guy treating you okay?” He looked at Kosh.
“He is very kind,” Emma said. “I am here of my own free will.”
As soon as the deputy’s car headed off down the driveway, Emma started to shake. Kosh put his arms around her and held her until the police car was out of sight.
“I was afraid he would take me back,” she said.
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Kosh said.
She stepped from his embrace. “So you say. I am not so sure. To my people, leaving one’s husband is a sin against God.”
“You’re not with your people now.”
“That is a sin as well. I am destined for
infierno
.”
“What is that?”
“You call it hell.”
Kosh removed the sensor from the motion-detector light above the barn door. He attached it to the mailbox at the entrance to his long driveway, then strung several extension cords from the mailbox to the barn. He found an old clock radio on his junk shelf and plugged it in to see if it worked.
Emma appeared in the doorway and stood watching him with a puzzled expression.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Hacking together an alarm system. We get any visitors, I want a heads-up.”
He tuned the radio to a moldy-oldies station out of Whitehall.
“The Lambs believe digital devices are evil,” she said, watching the numbers flickering on the display.
“Can’t say I blame them.” He finally found the station. They were playing an old Aerosmith tune. “You like music?”
“Is that what that is?”
“Not a classic-rock fan, huh?” He unplugged the radio from the wall and plugged it into the extension cord that led to the sensor on the mailbox.
“I’m going out to trip that sensor. Will you let me know if the radio comes on?”
“How will I know it’s on?”
“Sound will come out of it. If it comes on, wave to me.”
Kosh hopped on his Triumph, drove to the end of the driveway, and stopped at the mailbox. He looked back at the barn. Emma was waving to him from the doorway. He drove back.
“The digital device is making noise. A man is shouting
‘la vida loca’
over and over.”
“Must be nineties week,” Kosh said.
The music stopped.
“Good. I got it set so it only comes on for thirty seconds. Now if anybody comes in the driveway, I’ll be ready for them. I got a feeling when Jeff Wahlberg tells your ex you’re okay, he might just let slip where you went to.”
“You think Tamm will come here?”
“Yeah, I do. To get his truck back, if nothing else.”
K OSH WAS NAPPING ON THE BEAT-UP SOFA IN HIS SHOP
the next day when an old Duran Duran song, “Hungry Like a Wolf,” invaded his dreams. He had never liked that song. Why was the wolf hungry? It made no sense.
He opened his eyes and sat up. The radio! He jumped up and ran to the open doorway. An SUV was coming up the driveway fast, raising a cloud of dust. Standing at the head of the driveway, Emma was holding the
arma
in her hands.
“Emma!” Kosh shouted. She ignored him.
The SUV skidded to a stop. Emma raised the weapon and fired. Shards of hot metal exploded in every direction. The front of the truck leaped into the air liked a rearing horse. The truck thumped back down. Kosh could see the glowing, molten remains of the engine — the grille and bumper were gone. Both front tires were in flames.
Kosh ran to Emma and tried to take the
arma
from her hands, but she would not let go. Her face was as bloodless as stone, jaw rigid, lips a tight line. Kosh released his hold on the weapon and took a step back.
The passenger door of the SUV opened and a
Wahlberg smiled. “Are you Emma?”
Emma nodded.
“Your husband is worried about you.”
“I have no husband,” Emma said.
“That a fact? Pretty quick divorce.”
“Our marriage was not legal. Not here.”
“Oh.” Wahlberg shifted from foot to foot. “Well, either way, I guess you got a right to leave him. I just stopped by to make sure you weren’t being held prisoner against your will. This guy treating you okay?” He looked at Kosh.
“He is very kind,” Emma said. “I am here of my own free will.”
As soon as the deputy’s car headed off down the driveway, Emma started to shake. Kosh put his arms around her and held her until the police car was out of sight.
“I was afraid he would take me back,” she said.
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” Kosh said.
She stepped from his embrace. “So you say. I am not so sure. To my people, leaving one’s husband is a sin against God.”
“You’re not with your people now.”
“That is a sin as well. I am destined for
infierno
.”
“What is that?”
“You call it hell.”
Kosh removed the sensor from the motion-detector light above the barn door. He attached it to the mailbox at the entrance to his long driveway, then strung several extension cords from the mailbox to the barn. He found an old clock radio on his junk shelf and plugged it in to see if it worked.
Emma appeared in the doorway and stood watching him with a puzzled expression.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Hacking together an alarm system. We get any visitors, I want a heads-up.”
He tuned the radio to a moldy-oldies station out of Whitehall.
“The Lambs believe digital devices are evil,” she said, watching the numbers flickering on the display.
“Can’t say I blame them.” He finally found the station. They were playing an old Aerosmith tune. “You like music?”
“Is that what that is?”
“Not a classic-rock fan, huh?” He unplugged the radio from the wall and plugged it into the extension cord that led to the sensor on the mailbox.
“I’m going out to trip that sensor. Will you let me know if the radio comes on?”
“How will I know it’s on?”
“Sound will come out of it. If it comes on, wave to me.”
Kosh hopped on his Triumph, drove to the end of the driveway, and stopped at the mailbox. He looked back at the barn. Emma was waving to him from the doorway. He drove back.
“The digital device is making noise. A man is shouting
‘la vida loca’
over and over.”
“Must be nineties week,” Kosh said.
The music stopped.
“Good. I got it set so it only comes on for thirty seconds. Now if anybody comes in the driveway, I’ll be ready for them. I got a feeling when Jeff Wahlberg tells your ex you’re okay, he might just let slip where you went to.”
“You think Tamm will come here?”
“Yeah, I do. To get his truck back, if nothing else.”
K OSH WAS NAPPING ON THE BEAT-UP SOFA IN HIS SHOP
the next day when an old Duran Duran song, “Hungry Like a Wolf,” invaded his dreams. He had never liked that song. Why was the wolf hungry? It made no sense.
He opened his eyes and sat up. The radio! He jumped up and ran to the open doorway. An SUV was coming up the driveway fast, raising a cloud of dust. Standing at the head of the driveway, Emma was holding the
arma
in her hands.
“Emma!” Kosh shouted. She ignored him.
The SUV skidded to a stop. Emma raised the weapon and fired. Shards of hot metal exploded in every direction. The front of the truck leaped into the air liked a rearing horse. The truck thumped back down. Kosh could see the glowing, molten remains of the engine — the grille and bumper were gone. Both front tires were in flames.
Kosh ran to Emma and tried to take the
arma
from her hands, but she would not let go. Her face was as bloodless as stone, jaw rigid, lips a tight line. Kosh released his hold on the weapon and took a step back.
The passenger door of the SUV opened and a
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