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I waited up till about eleven that night and then dressed in my night camos from the FG, cap and all, and then quietly made my way down to my truck and set off. I'd mapped out the course I had to take and practiced it in my head a dozen times till I was sure I could find the place, even with the headlights off.

Turning off the highway, I drove up into the hills a little way and hid the truck behind the screen of trees along an old disused road about a mile from the location. It was up near the top of a pair of parallel ridges that hugged the Abercroy River. Hefting my backpack, I went the rest of the way on foot, trotting along briskly as the land rose, trying to keep out of sight. It was a cloudy night, so not much of a challenge.

Checking my pawPad from time to time, I knew I was coming up on the place soon. I donned the night vision goggles and padded soft as I could up towards it. I made sure the cars were gone, and when I was satisfied they were, I stepped out onto old road ruts and got my first real look at the place.

It was an old cinderblock structure pressed into the side of a hill with a tired old stream dribbling onto the rocks to one side. Some ancient milling facility, at a guess; abandoned maybe a hundred years ago. Chain link fencing around it now in a big C shape. I scoped the place out from the darkness of the treeline on the far side for a while until I was reasonably sure no one was around but the couple guard dogs I could see milling about.

I made my approach. They didn't spend a lot on security. Not like they hired anybody to actually keep an eye on the place, far as I could tell. They counted on secrecy to keep things safe for them. And when secrecy failed, they counted on their reputation. Well, fuck their secrecy. That didn't mean nothing to me. But I did have a healthy respect for their reputation. That's why I was doing this thing.

Eventually the couple of rottie-avos, barking their heads off, came charging right up to the fence. No sweat. A shot apiece of the CP-104 I'd bought would keep them down for a couple of hours. Way more time than I should need. Squirt squirt. They dropped like flies in a freezer.

I crouched and waited to see if anyone would come out, waving a shotgun or something. Nobody did. Stuck my fingers and toes into the fencing and climbed it, dropping to the other side.

Place was locked up good but with cheap, shitty old locks you could pick up at any hardware store. They barely slowed me down. Within two minutes, I had them set aside, and I let myself in.

Dark. Dank. Ancient creaky floor. Not dusty, though. It was clean and smooth under my pads. I gather, not that I know, that this kind of work calls for a certain cleanliness. That much they seemed to take seriously.

My God, but you should have seen the setup. Tanks and tanks of propane. Beakers and tubes and distillation this and evaporation that... And it was all going on right in front of me, there in the dark. The slow, constant, drip-by-drip creation of one of the nastiest drugs out there. A real soul-stealer. The rotgut Ryan was pouring down his throat had nothing on top hat. And I could see it there, gleaming in the little bit of light coming off the equipment, obviously powered by batteries they kept solar charged. Place was silent as a crypt. A crypt that brewed its own poison.

I studied the setup till I understood it. This did this, connect to that, which did something else, before passing it along to that. I could see where the dangerous places were, the volatility, the heat sources. I picked my spot, and then I got to work.

I was there less than an hour. Put the locks back on. Them pooches were still moonrocked good and hard. I'd been trained on using CP-104; hell, I'd even been under on it. They'd wake up feeling fine in a couple of hours. No one would ever know I'd been there, and them rottie-avos weren't talking. Idiots should have hired at least one who could. All their penny-pinching was gonna bite them in the ass.

Last thing I did, getting back to town, was round up my trackers from Greg and Shark's cars. No point in taking any chance they'd stumble onto them. Besides, they were expensive. Who knew when I might need them again?

I stowed everything safely in a footlocker in the garage before creeping back into my apartment. I made a point of bringing in the CP-104 and sticking it in the medicine cabinet where anyone might mistake it for something medicinal. I was prepping for the eventuality of my return, and since Annie was to be my alibi, I'd need to keep it handy. I took a quick shower to steady my nerves and come down, toweled off, and hit the hay.

Now it was just a matter of playing it cool, keeping my ear pricked, and praying they didn't make a move on me before I could make mine.

* * * * *

I spent Saturday night with Anne Marie. Ryan had the cubs that weekend, so I took the opportunity to bring her around. I think Ryan enjoyed it. Annie was a hit with the cubs, especially Priss, and it kind of gave Ry a breather and reminded him of what it had been like to be a family. The good parts. I didn't see him touch a drop all Sunday. It really set my mind to thinking. As if I could afford the luxury.

Monday came around and Ry came out of the office. "Got a couple of jobs for us. We're gonna shut down and split up."

"What's up?"

"Betty Clawsharp's '33 Mudskipper died on her again, so I'm gonna be out there all day performing automotive CPR on the damn thing. You can drop me off on your way."

"My way where?"

"Ravensville. One of the squad cars had the transmission drop out of 'er, so you're gonna have to tow it on in."

"Well, sure, alright." I stretched and cracked the knuckles of all four paws. "When we goin'?"

"Sorta nowish. Go get the tow. I'll close up."

I brought the tow truck around front just as Ry was locking up the last of the bays. He got in and I set off.

"The cubs seemed to get on nice with Anne Marie," I remarked, more a question than a statement.

"Yep. Think they'd like to see more of her," Ryan said, lighting one up. He rolled down the window and dangled his paw out the side.

"Well, maybe they will."

"That'd be nice," he said.

I smiled. I knew I shouldn't be thinking too far ahead, just now, but I couldn't help it.

Ryan brought me down to Therion pretty quick, though. Casual as all hell, he said, "Why do I see Billy or one of his boys driving past the garage every couple of hours, Mango? They think they're being subtle, but they're like a painted dick in a bouquet."

I admit, I was embarrassed. I hadn't noticed that, and yet Ryan, in the middle of a bender, hadn't missed something I should have been focused on like a laser. I scratched my ear. "Billy's got it in his head Chip said something important to me that night him and me was up at the creek fishin' just before I went away."

"They got business with you?"

"They think they do. I told 'em they don't. But they're gonna believe what they're gonna believe."

"Well, that's just beautiful."

"Don't worry. Mitch and his boys are watching them."

"Mitch. He's too busy sweepin' up their nickels and dimes to feather his nest to be a real cop for ten minutes and get the fuckin' job done. 'Ain't got no proof, can't get a warrant;' it's all bullshit, Nicky. You count on him and you'll regret it."

It was hard for me to hear Ryan speak out against Mitch like that, but I'd heard something like it from Mitch's own lips. Naturally, Mitch had put a civic spin on it, but what did I really know about where the money really went? And if the money was getting good and getting deep, and the cops were already along for the ride, well... How much more of a temptation was that for Mitch and them not to rock the boat? Thinking about that only made me more scared. I'd had a backup plan before. Now I wasn't so sure. Seemed I really was staking it all on one throw.

"Drop me off here," he said. "I'll be back by supper, the latest."

I let him out and proceeded along to Ravensville... Hoping, to my sorrow, that I wouldn't be bumping into Mitch this time.

Fate had other plans. While I was doing the paperwork to take possession of the car, Mitch stepped out into the hallway. He had Sandy with her. They must have asked to be informed when I arrived.

"Mango! Good to see you," he said.

"Howdy there, Mitch. Sandy."

"So, listen... while you're here, how about clearing a few things up for us?"

"Well, sure... What's on your mind?"

"Well, finish up what you're doin', then come on in here for a moment. Get yourself a cup of coffee on the way."

"Yeah... sure, alright. Be right with you."

I was a sea of cramps bound up in a piebald coat. I could barely get through the forms. I just wanted to get in there and get whatever it was Sandy was obviously behind over with as fast and as soon as I could. Finished the paperwork, tucked my copy into my pants, and with an air of dread, hauled myself into his office.

"Shut the door, there, would yah?" Mitch smiled from behind his desk. I did as he asked.

"What can I do for you?" I said, looking warily from one to the other.

Mitch leaned back in his chair and Sally took a step or two closer. "Just some details of your recent trip that I'd like to get some clarification on," she said, almost sweetly. "Now, you told us you were running around up north and out west after your stint, looking for an affordable..." She checked her notes. "...Gaptronics Diagnotron T-111. Can you confirm the dates?"

"I'd have to think about it," I said, mouth going dry.

"Please do."

"Uhh... Let's see, now." I silently did the math. If I claimed I was at bullet camp for two weeks, where did that put me? I hedged, and lobbed the ball back into her court. "Well, which date, exactly?"

"Well first of all, you left on..." She checked again. "Tuesday, August 29. Is that right?"

"I believe so."

"But that, uh, that invoice you had that everybody got to see," she said drily, "well, I noticed it said Monday, September 11."

"I guess that sounds about right."

"That's less than two weeks after you left."

I could feel the pads of all four paws sweating. "Yeah, I suppose so."

"So you left, got to camp, did your training, went bargain hunting, and bagged a deal, all within thirteen days. That's what you're saying."

"If that's what it adds up to."

Sandy looked at Mitch. Mitch just gave a little shrug. I couldn't read him one way or the other.

She went on. "Before you left, you told folks you were going to be training for about three weeks. I have that from a few people."

"I was wrong. That's what they told me to expect, but the training was a lot shorter."

"How much shorter."

"Came out to about a week."

"And what'd they pay you for that?"

"About ten thousand."

"Ten thousand. For a week." She glanced at Mitch again. "Sheriff, I do believe you and I are in the wrong business."

"'Pears so," he smiled.

"I can help you sign up, if you like," I smiled.

"And after that, you were...?"

I looked at her, working out her meaning. "I went to visit family in Guildwood. Stayed with them from one weekend to the next, then came home."

"And what were the dates?"

"Fifteenth to the... twenty-fourth, I think."

"Whereabouts?"

"Chironto. The area around."

"Chironto. Pretty big city. Your family the only people you saw when you were there?"

And suddenly it hit me, and I knew just exactly what she was getting at. She was wondering if I was out there, going from state to state, running top hat for Billy or something. Maybe samples to get a distribution network. God Almighty. She could not possibly have been wider of the mark, and yet I had completely innocently walked into a potential frame. Well, not exactly innocently, but definitely of what she was thinking. She was trying to get me to crack, confess, and use me to take Billy down. The problem for her was, I wouldn't have pissed on Billy if he was on fire, let alone do any dirty work for the fucker, no matter how much it paid. And then I realized: that much, I could say. "I think I see where this is going."

"Oh, yes? Is that right. Do you."

"Look," I said. "You're kinda new here, so you wouldn't know this. Billy Sandbanks and me, we don't get along. Never did. From the time I landed here twelve years ago, he's been a thorn in my foot. Fractured my arm in grade ten," I said, smacking my left forearm. "Put me out of action on the basketball team that year, just before they won countywide--without me. Shit like that. So if you're coming around to saying you think I'd help him so much as swat a fly, then you haven't asked the right questions around here. Ain't nobody in this town don't know how I feel about him. So go ask. Then come back and tell me what you think, Assistant Deputy."

Her long ears folded back a little, but she kept her composure. Not so much Mitch. He was fighting back a fearsome laugh behind her, and just barely kept it professional. He managed to straighten up by the time she checked with him.

"That's pretty much the facts, Sandy," Mitch said. "If you'd told me where you were headin' with this, I could have saved us all the trouble."

"Alright," she said. "Maybe it's not what it looks like. But I have to say," she said, flipping her notes shut, "it doesn't much look like what you've been saying it is, either."

"And I have to say that I don't think I've done anything that's grounds for you pokin' around in what I did or didn't do." I was no legal expert, but I was pretty sure my just having a shaky story about what I was up to for three weeks that I was out of the state and far away from the matter at hand, was not grounds for any kind of warrant. I leaned around her and went over her head. "Mitch, can I just get your car on the hook and get started rebuilding your transmission?"

He sighed. "Sandy, I think we've bothered this boy enough. He's nothing to do with Billy Sandbanks and whatever he gets up to."

"If you feel that way, Sheriff."

"I do, I do." He rose, put an arm around my shoulder and stepped me out of his office. "Sorry, Mango. You know we gotta check everything. We want to know what happened. And we want to take down who's responsible."

"So do I," I said. "But that ain't me."

"Sure, sure." He winked at me, giving a jerk of his head at his overzealous assistant. "You just go fix up that car out there. Forget all about this."

"Thanks, Mitch," I said.

For a moment, I thought about telling them how Billy had come by, making his threats of disappearing me and Priss. If that didn't make their blood boil, nothing would. But what was the point? I had no proof. I might buy myself some time by forcing him to lay even lower, but I'd definitely be painting a target on my back, and probably Priss's too down the way. And there'd be just too many damn questions to answer. Questions that'd land me at least waist-deep in the shit that Billy'd be drowning in. Besides, I had plan. And if it worked, well... I wouldn't need their damn help anyhow.

I locked eyes with Sandy. Silently prayed that this was the last of it. Then walked out of the station.

I got home and eased the police car into one of the bays. Figured I'd have some lunch before I got started. I washed up beside the office, and then loped around the side to my place.

When I stepped inside, right away I knew something was up. I froze just inside the door and tried to work out what my senses were telling me.

Jewel crept out. She said, "Shark and Reddy were in here pokin' around."

I raised my nose, and sure enough, I could scent them, faintly. My blood turned to ice. I looked at her.

"They didn't see me," she said. But she wasn't making a joke of it.

"No, I don't imagine they did," I said. I looked around. "They find anything?"

"What's to find?" she said, flatly. And she was right. It's not like I was dumb enough to keep the money anywhere around here. But I looked at the ceiling. As often as not recently, Ryan was just up there, half-lit all day. Japheth, if they'd been bold enough to go up there... Anything could have happened. I shook. Fear, anger, I dunno. But I was shaking.

If they were putting their dusty feet on my floor uninvited, then we were rapidly running out of time till the showdown.

This was the endgame. Phase two was now definitely on.

Now, I reckoned it like this. Chip said they were pushing out five pounds a month. That ain't much if you're supplying a city, but it's pretty good if you're pushing it around some neighbourhood. So I figured Billy and them were dealing with some small timers. Not the big gang, but lesser members or associates; guys with rights to a small territory to manage and kick upstairs from. They wouldn't be able to keep much on hand, so they'd have to be pretty constantly bringing in more supply. To my mind, that meant they probably had to come around every week or at least every other.

I figured they'd want to be innocuous, but also been noticed by the right people when they showed up. There aren't many places in a town this small, and Melba's is the definite crossroads. There was no guarantee, but it was one of only two places just about anyone passing through ended up at, sooner or later; the other being Clancy Pouncerby's gas station. Clancy's wasn't much of a meeting place, so I set my sights on Melba's. I forgot about lunch at my place, and headed on over there instead.

Melba's son Shawn's about my age, and he works there dawn till dusk. Why not? Place'll soon by his. I know him well enough, so I made my way over there and caught him on a break out back.

"Howdy, Shawn, how you doin'?"

"Can't complain, Mango. You?"

"Well, actually, got kind of an issue. Thought maybe you could help me out."

He took a drag on his joint and sighed contentedly. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for some guys probably driftin' into town. Figured they'd show up here, sooner or later."

"Kinda guys?"

"Big, probably. Tough lookin'. City guys. Y'know, rough city guys."

"Think I know who you're talking about," he said.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mm-hmm. Why you lookin' for 'em?" He passed me the joint.

I took a hit and passed it back. "Did some runnin' back and forth for 'em not too long ago. They paid me the up-front half, but I'm still after the upon-completion part."

"Ahhh."

"So, uh, I'd like to have a polite word with them. See if I can't budge them. I thought maybe you could drop me a discreet text if you happen to see them."

"Sure, I can do that."

I smiled, and pulled out my wallet.

He waved me off, almost offended. "C'mon, Mango. You're a regular. Known you since you got here. I'll just let you know when I see 'em walk in."

"Shawn, if there's anything I can ever do for you,..."

"Well," he said, glancing back inside the kitchen, "maybe put a shirt on?"

It hung in the air for a moment. Then his face split in a huge grin and the two of us started laughing.

* * * * *

As it turned out, my guess panned out, and I didn't have all that long to wait. Thursday evening, as I stood in my kitchen stirring canned ravioli, I felt my pawPad buzz in my pocket.

I pulled it out and looked at it. Text from Shawn.

I THINK YOU'D LIKE THE SPECIAL HERE TONIGHT.

Subtle. Open to interpretation, if anyone else ever saw it. But to me, it only meant one thing. I turned off the stove and headed over.

Sure as shit, there they were. A couple of guys I'd never seen before. Wolf-were and leopard-were. Leather jackets. Sun glasses. Really big city badasses, and sticking out like a sore thumb. A sore thumb that wants it known it's not to be messed with.

Melba came over. "How's Ryan?" she asked, automatically pouring me coffee.

I shrugged. "Y'know how it goes," I said. "But thanks for asking." I averted my eyes. "What's with the couple rent-a-thugs?"

"Don't know. Didn't ask." She tapped my chin. "Neither should you."

"They 'round here much?"

"A little. Good tippers."

"Yeah, they look like it."

"What can I get you?"

"Just the coffee for now, thanks."

She glanced over at them out of the corners of her eyes, and then at me. Shook her head. "Put on a shirt, Mango," she sighed, and moved away.

I wasn't there five minutes before Reddy Wagsbrush came in and padded right up to the badasses. A couple of words were exchanged. One of the badasses wiped his mouth and thumped a fifty on the table. Good tippers indeed. They followed Reddy out the door. Everyone had the good sense not to notice.

Well, almost everyone.

* * * * *

I knew where I had to go. I gave them a little time before I got up and headed out. To tell you the truth, I was in no hurry. Knowing what you have to do, and actually doing it when you get there, those are really two different things.

There was a chance the whole thing wasn't going to go down at the lab site, of course. This whole thing was a gamble. But I figured, if they thought the lab was hidden and secure, why start moving the product around and risk it? Better to leave it where it was and then they only had one place to pin down. They were still small-time. When the biz grew to the next level, well, hey, they could reassess.

I gave Annie a call. Sweet talked her into an evening. Promised I wouldn't keep her up too late. I was thankful when she agreed and invited me over.

Most of what I needed I left in the truck. The one thing needed for sure I tucked into a light jacket I wore for that purpose. That was the little can of CP-104.

It's difficult to be attentive and amorous when you know you've got dangerous work ahead of you. But finally I channeled all that nervous excitement into a quick, rugged, window-steaming session with Annie. By the end of it, I was quite enjoying myself, and her. By all indications, that was mutual. She was nicely worn out. That made what came next all that much easier.

I excused myself to use the bathroom. There, in the dark, I sprayed a little CP-104 onto a face cloth. I held my breath, and coming back into her dusky bedroom, I pretended to wash her face for her a little. She giggled, relaxed. Shifted a bit. Eyes fluttered. Then she went under. I spoke. Shouted. Pinched her, hard. Not a twitch. Her chest just rose and fell. I didn't waste any time. Off I went.

And there was Toxic. standing there between me and my truck. "C'mon, now. You ain't doin' this," he said.

"I told you I didn't want to see you again."

"Tough. Here I am. And you're not doing this. You can't, Nick. We both know it."

"I don't know that. What I know is, I'm going. So fuck off and get out of my way." I brushed past him and into my truck.

But he got in before I could stop him. "If you're doing this, Mango, I'm coming with you."

"Not if you're going to fuck it up, you're not." I stared him down.

"Alright," he said. "If you're determined to do this, I won't stop you. But you ain't goin' through it alone."

I stared at him. We'd been through a lot together over the years, most of it fun. Some of it not. But nothing, ever, like this. To tell the truth, I wasn't sure I'd be coming back. Even if it worked.

"Alright," I said, and started the truck. "Thanks, Tox."

"No thanks required," he mumbled, and we headed off, slow and quiet, into the late October night.

We stopped and chugged into a hiding spot in the trees. I stripped and donned my dark camo again, and we trotted off to the ridge opposite the one the lab was on. It was a distance of about half a mile, I'd guess. I hauled out my binoculars. Even way out there, they were keeping the light subdued. I could see several vehicles; most I knew. One, a big honkin' SUV, I figured had to be the new boys, come to collect.

I was close enough that the still fall air brought the sounds of the rottie-avos' barks, and the odd laughter from inside. They were all friendly. Taking their time. Good.

I reached into my jacket and I pulled out the remote detonator.

I smoothed the pad of my thumb over the eager red button.

Licked my lips. My nose. My heart was pounding in my ears. I glanced over at Tox, but his face wasn't encouraging. It was passive; if anything, remorseful.

I looked back through the binoculars. "Here's some sandbags for you, motherfucker," I sneered at Billy, trying to psyche myself up. But I had tears in my eyes. Sounded like a little boy said it.

Go on, do it. Do it. You gotta do it! What if you don't and they find it?

Toxic leaned on my shoulder. He said, "Think, now. You press that button, Nicky, that's murder. _Murder._You don't come back from that. You'll be a murderer for the rest of your life."

"If I don't, they'll kill me. Or Ryan. Or..."

"You don't know that. For sure."

"They were in my fucking house, Tox! And they killed Chip. They sure as hell killed him."

"Alright. Gowan, then. Do it. You think you're in the right... Then you do it."

My heart was racing. Beating way too fast. I was panting. My head was swimming. I honestly thought I was going to faint.

I pictured Billy with a smile, hoisting little Belle into the air. Greg dancing with Zelda in Pendleton's barn. Shark polishing his Land Dart out in front of the high school.

I pinched my eyes shut, tight. My thumb eased back from the button.

And then I saw Chip in his wedding suit with Beulah on his arm under a shower of rice. His handsome white face on my hip in the long grass with the creek sparkling behind.

Gonna miss you, Mango...

I saw Ryan looking up at me out of his chair.

Get the good stuff this time.

My thumb moved back to the button.

From across the way came another laugh. A waft of music.

Tox put his paw over mine. For a second I thought he was going to stop me.

"We'll do this together," he said. "If it's going to be done. We'll both be killers, or neither."

"Thanks, Tox." When push finally came to shove, he was always there for me. "But this has gotta be just me." I eased his paw away, and left him pure.

He nodded softly, understanding. "You sure you can live with this?"

I looked at the lights through the trees. I could just make out the laughter.

"We'll see..."

I swallowed hard. I pressed the button