Falling Light (Game of Shadows #2)(75)

“He’s certainly capable of that. Usually, though, there’s a motive if you bother to look hard enough for it.” Astra took the edge of her jacket sleeve and scrubbed at her cheeks. “Is it any wonder I would give anything to stop him?”

“We’re going to stop him,” Mary said. She injected a flat certainty into her voice.

A ghost of a laugh made Astra quiver against her side. “You’re good, kid. You should be onstage.”

Mary hugged her again and looked up at the sky. She said, “You know, after this whole thing is over, my summer on the beach is going to be the best vacation anybody could have. There will be lobster salad and crab pâté, a discreet waitstaff and pristine white sand just outside the hotel room’s French doors. Michael is very enthusiastic about the red string bikini I’m going to buy.”

She glanced sidelong at Astra. A corner of the old woman’s mouth lifted in a reluctant smile. “I’ll just bet he is.”

Mary told her cheerfully, “We’ll get one for you too. Yours will be very chic. How about black?”

Astra’s blackbird eyes cut over to her, and this time her smile turned real. “Get thee behind me, Satan.”

She grinned, glad that they were no longer arguing and that Astra showed signs of returning to life. “What’s wrong with that? I don’t see why not if you want to.”

“It would guarantee all kinds of privacy,” Astra said wryly. “You wouldn’t have any waitstaff left, or any other customers either. They would run off screaming. These days my boobs dangle around my waist.” She sighed and rubbed her arms. “I’ve got chores, and it’s getting colder. I’ve got to feed the chickens and pen them in their coop. Then we’d best go inside until Michael can tell us what he’s learned.”

Mary nodded. “He’ll be wearing his bad-news face.”

“Bad-news face, huh?” Astra grunted. “Until you arrived, I didn’t know that he had any other kind of face.”

She followed Astra to the pen, helped her to feed the chickens and shoo them into the coop. Afterward, they retraced a path back to the cabin. Astra went straight to the kitchen, washed her hands and started to pull out baking ingredients.

Mary followed her. She picked up a light-colored package of quick-rise yeast. “What are you doing?”

“You two ate all my sandwiches.” Astra gave her a grim smile. “And I used all my bread.”

Mary left her to her baking. The locked metal door was wide open. She peeked inside. Metal, army-style lockers lined one wall. Michael sat at a desk in front of a computer. His fingers flew over the keyboard. She went back into the kitchen and washed their lunch dishes while Astra kneaded the bread dough.

Astra had set the dough to rise, and she had just put away the last of the clean dishes when Michael joined them.

Mary realized something as she watched him stride with tiger-like grace across the room. Every time he was mentally engaged with an opponent, he moved differently. There was something extra about him that came alive.

“I’ll make more coffee.” Astra’s grim expression had never eased.

Mary sat at the dining table, planted her elbows and covered her mouth with both hands. Michael joined her.

“You already know it’s bad,” he said. “Apparently the fire started sometime last night, and it has already covered almost sixty miles along the southern coast of the U.P.”

“Sixty miles,” Mary whispered. The pit of her stomach bottomed out. The size of such a blaze was inconceivable.

Astra walked over to the table and sat down.

Michael rubbed his face. “Firefighters are being flown in from across the nation, and towns and settlements are under a mandatory evacuation. Because of the fire pattern, arson experts have put out statements that it’s been artificially accelerated. A couple of news websites are claiming it’s a terrorist attack.”

“They’re right,” said Astra quietly. “If not quite in the way they envision.”

Mary listened until her mind, already stretched from dealing with the events of the last couple of days, couldn’t absorb anymore. Then she simply gave up, walked into the kitchen area and focused on pouring three cups of the freshly brewed coffee.

“He could have located his base of operations as far north as Marquette,” Michael said. His eyes were sharp and his expression clear, even tranquil. “But I don’t think so. I think he’s operating from a mobile base stationed on the U.P., so that he can keep an eye on his handiwork.”

Astra tapped gnarled fingers against her mouth. “I agree.”

Mary put a cup in front of Astra and another in front of Michael. He captured her hand to squeeze her fingers in brief, silent thanks.

“Several of the news reports claim that a couple of hikers saw lightning strike from a cloudless sky yesterday evening. So,” Michael continued, “we know it’s him. In order to avoid being evacuated, his base has to be disguised as official somehow—either the police, or the National Park Service, or maybe the National Guard. The President is expected to declare Michigan a state of emergency sometime by midnight, so his base may be disguised as a mobile army unit.”

“Sounds logical.” Astra sipped coffee.

“Let’s take the offensive.” Michael said it with the casual tone one might use to suggest taking a walk. “We’re together, and Mary and I have had a chance to rest and eat. Let’s do what we came here to do and go hunt him down.”