Page 130 of Shatter

I stand at the end of the table with her note flattened on the wood in front of me.

Five words, on a pink square of paper.

Tor reads it without picking it up.

Then he looks at the drive in the sandwich bag beside it, then at Dag and me.

"She planned it." Dag pushes his glasses up his nose. "Since Sunday at least, bought the blank on Monroe. Came to my door at three with her shoes in her hand."

"Pierce." Tor's voice is low.

"Had to be." Vanir's got his laptop open at Tor's elbow, the screen throwing blue light up under his chin. "Ulf's been sitting on the silver rental all night outside the Doubletree. It never moved. He was already gone before Ulf got there."

"Second car." Rati scratches his beard. "Slick little bastard."

My fingers press flat against the table on either side of her note.

They won't stop shaking.

"Where would he take her?" Tor looks at me.

"Seattle." It's the first word out of me since I walked in, and it comes out rough. "Home. To her father."

"No hits at the airports." Vanir shakes his head. "I've had flags on Tallahassee and Jacksonville for two months. No Carrow on anything."

"Then he drove." Gunnar's leaning against the wall by the door, his arms folded. "Could be halfway to Atlanta by now."

"He didn't drive to Atlanta." Dag's voice is soft.

Everybody looks at him.

He's sitting very still, staring at the drive in the sandwich bag.

"She told me something at my door." He says it slowly, like he's pulling the words up from somewhere deep. "She said it'd be over soon. She said nobody here would have to bleed for her."

"So?" Emil's voice comes from the corner.

"So she wasn't running." Dag looks up at Tor. "She went to hand it over. You don't hand something over in the middle of an interstate. You go where the man is."

Tor's jaw works once.

"Laurent." It comes out of me before anybody else can say it.

The room goes still.

Laurent at Sawgrass Point at two in the morning, four days ago, walking in like he owned the place.

Aren's text on my phone at dawn with her asleep on my chest.

"Aren." Tor doesn't take his eyes off me. "Get him on the phone."

Vanir dials and sets his phone on the table on speaker.

It rings once.

"Yeah." Aren's voice, flat and low, with wind behind it.

"Where are you?" Tor leans toward the phone.