Grim felt his body move toward the motorcycle before he had decided to move. Danny caught his sleeve. "Don't chase him," he said. "You promised Keene."
Grim stopped. The pickup rolled to the next intersection and paused, then turned along a street lined with houses. It was not heading directly toward Carol's address, but it was close enough to make the waiting intolerable. Grim picked up his telephone and called Keene.
"I just saw Mercer," he said. "Dark pickup heading east from the service lot. Two men with him. He's looking into residential streets."
Keene asked for identifying details and repeated that units were approaching. "Do not follow him," he said. "We've got the area covered as well as we can without making a dangerous approach. We need him to stop moving into places where families live." Grim watched a school bus pass. "Understood," he said, and kept watching the intersection.
The pickup returned less than ten minutes later, moving more slowly. Grim realized Clay might have recognized the motorcycles from across the road. The truck pulled over a short distance away, and Clay climbed out. His companions remained inside. He crossed toward Grim with the confident gait of a man who was accustomed to other people making space for him.
Danny stepped forward, but Grim shook his head. "Stay," he said. He moved to the edge of the sidewalk where Clay could speak to him without coming nearer the motorcycles. "Mercer," Grim said. "I don't think there's anything useful left for us to discuss."
Clay smiled. In the daylight he looked ordinary enough that a stranger might have mistaken him for a contractor on his way between jobs. His shirt was clean, his boots expensive, and his hair neatly combed. Grim remembered how often dangerous men relied on appearing unremarkable when watched by people who did not know them. "You're a long way from your diner, Hayes," Clay said.
"So are you," Grim replied. Clay's smile grew thinner. "You got involved in a family matter. That's one thing. You've put yourself between me and my business now. That takes a different kind of confidence."
Grim kept his hands loose at his sides. "Sarah's decision to leave isn't a business matter. Jesse's records are in the hands of investigators. Nothing I say changes either of those facts."
Clay looked past him toward Danny, then at the waiting motorcycles. "You think giving the government a few pieces of paper takes down fifteen years of work?" he asked. Grim glanced at the truck. "I think seven women have names, and somebody has started asking where they went. I think your money records can be examined by people who aren't dependent on your permission. I think your deputy's not returning your calls today."
Clay's face changed almost imperceptibly. "You don't know what you're talking about." "Maybe not all of it," Grim admitted. "That's why I'm leaving the investigation to people who do. What I know is that Sarah and her kids are safe from you right now, and that if you keep driving around looking for them, more people will see exactly what you're doing."