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scream ripped out of the speaker. It sounded strangely familiar, and for a moment that
puzzled me, and I paused the video, rewound, and played the scream again. Then I had it; it
was the same scream that had been on the first video, the one we had seen at the Tourist
Board. For whatever strange reason, Weiss had used the same scream here.
Possibly it was just brand continuity, like McDonald's using the same clown.
I started up the video again; the camera was moving through the crowd in the Fairchild
parking lot picking out faces that looked shocked, disgusted, or merely curious. Again the
screen whirled and lined up the expressive faces in a row of boxes against a background of
the sunset vegetation shot, and the letters supered in on top: THE NEW MIAMI:
PERFECTLY NATURAL.
If nothing else, it removed any lingering doubt I might have had about Weiss's guilt. I was
quite sure the other videos would show the other victims, complete with reaction shots of
the crowd. But just to be thorough, I decided to watch them all in order, all five of them.
But wait a second: there should only be three spots, one for each of the sites we had found.
One more for Dexter's great performance and that would be four what was the other one?
There was a loud clatter in the lab, and Vince Masuoka called out, Yo, Dexter! and I
quickly clicked the browser off. It wasn't just false modesty that made me reluctant to share
my wonderful acting work with Vince. Explaining the performance would be far too
difficult. And just as my monitor went blank, Vince pushed into my little cubby, carrying
his forensic kit.
You don't answer your phone any more? he said.
I must have been in the restroom I said.
No rest for the wicked he said. Come on, we gotta go to work.
Oh I said. What's up? I don't know, but it's got the uniforms on site almost hysterical
Vince said. Something down in Kendall. Of course, awful things happen in Kendall all
the time, but very few of them require my professional attention. In retrospect I suppose I
should have been more curious, but I was still distracted by the discovery of my unwilling
stardom on YouTube, and I really wanted to see the other videos. What would the last one
show? Since there was no new body on display that I knew of, I had a small and nibbling
thought that it might be something revealing, some small something that might get me closer
to Weiss and I very much needed to get as close as possible, knife-blade close, before
anyone else saw my movie and recognized me.
So my mind was not truly focused on my job, and I rode along with Vince exchanging
half-conscious pleasantries and wondering what Weiss might have revealed in that last,
unseen video. Therefore, it was with a very real sense of shock that I recognized our
destination when Vince pulled into the parking lot, turned off the engine, and said, Let's
go. We were parked at a large public building I had seen before. In fact, I had seen it only a
day ago, when I had taken Cody to his Cub Scout meeting.
We had just parked at Golden Lakes Elementary School.
Of course, it had to be mere happenstance. People get killed all the time, even at elementary
schools, and to assume this was any more than one of those funny coincidences that make
life so interesting was to believe that the entire world revolved around Dexter which was
true in a rather limited way, of course, but I was not deranged enough to believe it in a
literal way.
So a bemused and slightly unsettled Dexter trudged after Vince, under the yellow crime
scene tape, and over to the side door of the building, where the body had been discovered.
As I approached the carefully guarded spot where it lay in all its glory, I heard a strange and
near-idiot whistling sound, and realized it was me. Because in spite of the see-through
plastic mask glued to the face, in spite of the yawning body cavity which was filled with
what appeared to be Cub Scout uniform items and paraphernalia, and in spite of the fact
that it was completely impossible that I was right, I recognized the body from ten feet away.
It was Roger Deutsch, Cody's Scout master.
TWE TY-O E
THE BODY HAD BEEN PROPPED IN THE RECESS AROUND THE side door of the
building, the one that served as an emergency exit for the combination cafeteria and
auditorium of the school. One of the servers had stepped outside for a smoke and seen it,
and had to be sedated, which was easy for me to understand after I took a quick look. And
after a second, more careful examination, I very nearly needed a sedative myself.
Roger Deutsch had a lanyard around his neck, with a whistle hanging from it. As before, the
body cavity had been scooped out and then filled with interesting things in this case, a
Cub Scout uniform, a colorful book that said Big Bear Cub Scout Handbook on the cover,
and some other gear. I could see the handle of a hand axe sticking up, and a pocket knife
with the Cub Scout logo on it.
As I bent closer to look, I also saw a grainy picture, printed on regular white paper, with BE
PREPARED printed on it in large black letters. The picture showed a blurry shot, taken
from some distance away, of several boys and one adult going into this same building. And
although it was impossible to prove it, I knew quite well who the adult and one of the
children were.
Me and Cody.
There was no mistaking the familiar curve of Cody's back. And there was no mistaking the
message, either.
It was a very odd moment, kneeling there on the pavement and looking at a blurry, indistinct
picture of myself and Cody, and wondering if anybody would see me if I took it. I had never
tampered with evidence before, but then again, I had never been part of it, either. And it was
quite clear that this was meant for me. BE PREPARED, and the photo. It was a warning, a
challenge: know who you are and I know how to hurt you And here I come.
BE PREPARED.
I was not prepared. I did not yet know where Weiss might be, and I did not know what or
when his next move would be, but I did know that he had moved everything several notches
ahead of me, and he had raised the stakes considerably at the same time. This was not a
stolen dead body, and it was not anonymous. Weiss had killed Roger Deutsch, not just
modified his body. And he had chosen this victim carefully, deliberately, in order to get at
me.
It was a complex threat, too. Because the picture added another dimension it said: I may
get you, and I may get Cody, or I may simply expose you for what we both know you are.
On top of that was the sure knowledge that if I was exposed and slapped in jail, Cody
would have no protection at all against whatever Weiss might do.
I looked hard at the picture, trying to decide if anyone else could tell it was me, and whether
taking it was worth the risk of removing and destroying it. But before I could make any
decision, the feather stroke of an invisible black wing brushed across my face and raised the
hair along my neck.
The Dark Passenger had been very quiet through this whole thing so far, contenting himself
with a disinterested smirk from time to time, and offering no really cogent observations. But
now the message was clear, and it echoed the one on the photograph: Be prepared. You are
not alone. And I knew just as certainly as I possibly could that somewhere nearby something
was looking at me and harboring wicked thoughts, watching me as the tiger watches its
prey.
Slowly, carefully, as if I had simply forgotten something in the car, I stood up and walked
back toward where we had parked. As I walked I casually scanned the parking area; not
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