ything。 More urgent tasks awaited her。
She emptied the dresser drawers on the floor； but they contained only socks； under…wear； sweaters； sweatshirts； and a few rolled belts。 No guns。
Across the hall from Vess's bedroom was a Spartan study。 Bare walls。 Blackout blinds instead of drapes。 On two long worktables stood two puters； each with its own laser printer。 Of the numerous items of puter…related equipment； she could identify some but was mystified by others。
Between the long tables was an office chair。 The floor was not carpeted； the bare wood was exposed； evidently to make it easier for Vess to roll between tables。
The drab； utilitarian room intrigued her。 She sensed that it was an important place。 Time was precious； but there was something here worth pausing to examine。
She sat in the chair and looked around； bewildered。 She knew that the world was wired these days； even into the hinterlands； but it seemed odd to find all this high…tech equipment in such a remote and rustic house。
Chyna suspected that Vess was set up to enter the Internet； but there was no phone or modem in sight。 She spotted two unused phone jacks in the baseboard。 His meticulous security procedures had served him well again； she was stymied。
What did he do here？ On one of the tables were six or eight ring…bound notebooks with colorful covers； and she opened the nearest。 The binder was divided into five sections； each with the name of an agency of the federal government。 The first was the Social Security Administration。 The pages were filled with what seemed to be notes from Vess to himself regarding the trial…and…error method by which he had hacked his way into the administration's data files and had learned to manipulate them。 The second divider was labeled U。S。 DEPT OF STATE （PASSPORT AGENCY）； and judging by the following notes； Vess was engaged in an inplete experiment to determine if； by a byzantine route； he might be able to enter and control the Passport Agency's puterized records without being detected。
Part of what he was doing； evidently； was preparing for the day when he slipped up in his 〃homicidal adventuring〃 and required new identities。
Chyna didn't believe； however； that Vess's only projects were the altering of his public records and the obtaining of fake ID。 She was troubled by the feeling that this room contained information about Vess that could be of vital importance to her own survival if only she knew where to look for it。
She put down the notebook and swiveled in the chair to face the second puter。 Under one end of this table stood a two…drawer file cabmet。 She opened the top drawer and saw Pendaflex hanging files with blue tags； each tag featured a person's name； with the surname first。
Each folder contained a two…sheet dossier on a different lawenforcement officer； and after a couple of minutes of investigation； Chyna decided that they were deputies with the sheriffs department in the very county in which Vess's house was located。 These dossiers provided all vital statistics on the officers plus information about their families and their personal lives。 A Xerox of each deputy's official ID photo was also attached。
Did the freak see some advantage in collecting information on all the local cops as insurance against the day when he might find himself in a standoff with them？ This effort seemed excessive even for one as meticulous as Edgler Vess； on the other hand； excess was his philosophy。
The lower drawer of the filing cabinet contained manila folders as well。 The tabs of these also featured names； like those in the upper drawer； but only surnames。
In the first folder； labeled ALmEs； Chyna found a full…page enlargement of the California driver's license of an attractive young blonde named Mia Lorinda Almes。 Judging by the exceptional clarity； it wasn't a Xerox blow…up of the original license but a digitized data transmission received on a phone line； through a puter； and reproduced on a high…quality laser printer。
The only other items in the folder were six Polaroid photographs of Mia Lorinda Almes。 The first two were close…ups from different angles。 She was beautiful。 And terrified。
This file drawer was Edgler Vess's equivalent of a scrapbook。 Four more Polaroids of Mia Almes。 Don't look。 The next two were full…body shots。 The young woman was naked in both。 Manacled。
Chyna closed her eyes。 But opened them。 She was pelled to look； perhaps because she was determined not to hide from anything any more。
In the fifth and sixth photos； the young woman was dead； and in the last her beautiful face was gone as if it had been blown off or sheared away。
The folder and the photographs fluttered from Chyna's hands to the floor； where they clicked *against the wood and spun and were still。 She hid her face in her hands。
She wasn't trying to block from her mind the gruesome image on the snapshot。 Instead； she was striving to repress a nineteen…year…old memory of a farmhouse outside New Orleans； two visitors with a Styrofoam cooler； a gun taken from the refrigerator； and the cold accuracy with which a woman named Memphis had fired two rounds。
Memory； however； always has its way。 The visitors； who'd done business with Zack and Memphis before； had been there to make a drug purchase。 The cooler had been filled with packets of hundred…dollar bills。 Maybe Zack didn't have the promised shipment； or maybe he and Memphis just needed more money than they could get from a sale； whatever the reason； they had decided to rip off the two men。
After the gunfire； Chyna had hidden in the barn loft； certain that Memphis would kill them all。 When Memphis and Anne found her； she fought them bitterly。 But she was only seven years old and no match for them。 With owls hooting in alarm and taking flight from the rafters； the women dragged Chyna out of the mice…infested hay and carried her to the house。
Zack had been gone by then； having taken the bodies elsewhere； and Memphis had cleaned up the blood in the kitchen while Anne had forced Chyna to drink a shot of whiskey。 Chyna didn't want the whiskey； sealed her lips against it； but Anne said； 〃You're a wreck； for Christ's sake； you can't stop blubbering； and one shot isn't going to hurt you。 This is what you need； kiddo； trust Mama； this is what you need。 A shot of good whiskey will break a fever； you know； and what you've got now is a kind of fever。 e on； you little wuss； it's not poison。 Jesus； you can be a whiny little shit sometimes。 Either you drink it quick； or I'll hold you down and pinch your nose shut； and Memphis will pour it in when you open your mouth to breathe。 That how you want it？〃 So Chyna drank the whiskey； and then took a second shot with a few ounces of milk when her mother decided that she needed it。 The booze made her dizzy and strange but did not calm her。
She had appeared calmer to them because； good little fisher that she was； she'd caught her fear and reeled it inside； where they could not see it。 Even by the age of seven； she had begun to understand that a show of fear was dangerous； because others interpreted it as weakness； and there was no place in this world for the weak。
Later that night； Zack had returned with whiskey on bis breath too。 He was exuberant； in a raucous and celebratory mood。 He came straight to Chyna and hugged her； kissed her on the cheek； took her by the hands and tried to make her dance with him。
〃That bastard Bobby； the last time he was here； 1 knew by the way he couldn't take his eyes off Chyna that he was hot for little girls； a genuine sicko； so tonight he walks in and his tongue just about uncurls to his knees when tie sees nen You couia；ve snot tne geek 11alt a dozen times； Memphis； before he might've noticed！〃
Bobby had been the man sitting at the kitchen table； talking to Chyna； his beautiful gray eyes fixed intently on her； speaking directly to her in a way that few adults； ever spoke to kids； asking whether she liked kittens or puppies best and did she want to grow up to be a famous movie star or a nurse or a doctor or what； when Memphis shot him in the head。
〃The way our Chyna girl was dressed；〃 Zack said excitedly； 〃Bobby just about totally forgot anyone else was here。〃
The nigh