With the information Anton had provided for her, Marge Gunderson got right to work on informing state police about the criminal most likely to be Andrew Pittman, as well as the make and model of the Custom Ford. Three days later, the police station received a call from a man in Saint Paul, Minnesota, who found an abandoned car in the middle of the woods that matched the description. Marge and Lou drove out to the location and found that the vehicle was, indeed, a white 1957 Custom Ford. The front hood was open, showing that the engine had been removed and several wires had been cut. Dozens of obscenities were written all over it and the front window was cracked. The license plates were missing.

Soon as she got back to Brainerd, Marge called up her cousin and told her about the discovery. Anton went down to the police station with Elena to identify the vehicle.

"Yes, that's the one", Anton answered.

Lou looked at Elena and asked her, "Elena, is this the vehicle that hit ya?"

Elena, who could barely utter a word upon seeing the car that caused her crash, gave him a simple nod of the head and said nothing.

Meanwhile, Marge, looking over the busted vehicle, opened the passenger side of the Custom Ford and crouched down, looking under the seat. All she found was an empty packet of cigarettes. She looked in the back of the car and found an old size 11 shoe and an empty bottle of Jack Daniels nestled on the seat. She stood up again and placed her hands on her hips, thinking. "Okay", Marge said at last. "So, we got a hit-and-run involving Elena, Andrew takes off, drives about a hundred and thirty-six miles south of Brainerd, parks his vehicle out in the middle of the woods, removes the plates, and disappears without a trace again."

"So it seems", said Anton. He walked over and stood next to Marge for a minute, looking at the Custom Ford. "What is it you can tell me about him?"

"Nothing much", said Marge. "To tell ya the truth, nobody really knew anything about him."

"Yah", said Lou. "One day, he just come into town asking for help. So, we ask him what kind of help he's lookin' for. Told us he had some sort of a hearing problem."

"How would you describe him?" Anton asked the deputy, not looking at him.

"Oh, about five foot nine, six foot one", Lou answered. "Blond, dark eyes, bit of a recluse."

"Oh, yah", Marge inquired. "He was a big fella, all right. Very quiet, very keep-to-himself kind of guy. Heck, he almost never came into town unless he needed food or medication for his condition or something."

"When exactly did he start harassing Elena?" Anton asked the chief, looking at her.

"About two months after taking up residence here, I think", Marge answered him.

Anton turned his head right and looked over at Elena and saw her in a catatonic state of mind, looking lost and in a daze. Her turquoise eyes were misty.

"Elena?" Anton asked her. He walked over to her and cupped his right hand to her cheek. "Elena, look at me."

Slowly, Elena turned her head and looked at him.

"Look at my face", Anton whispered to her. "You're all right. I'm not going to let him hurt you again. Do you understand?"

Elena nodded her head and whispered, "Okay."

Anton turned his head left and looked over at Lou. "I think it would be wise if Miss Olmsted waited outside for a minute", he said.

Lou walked over to them and placed his arm around Elena. Just when he was about to walk her over to the door, Marge spoke up.

"By the way, El", said Marge. "Those phonecalls you've been receiving? Turns out they came from a cellular phone."

Elena turned around and looked at Marge. "A cellular phone?"

"Oh, yah", said Marge. "Only strange thing about it is that the phone the calls came from belonged to Gordon Burrows."

For a moment, nobody spoke. Not even a breath could be heard.

Elena gently shoved Lou away from her and went over to stand face to face with Marge. "Gordon Burrows?" Elena questioned her own cousin. "The father of Sophia Burrows, the little girl I promised to take care of after his wife died? That Gordon Burrows?!"

Marge paused for a minute. Finally, she nodded her head and answered, "Yah, that's the one."

"That's not possible", said Anton. "Gordon Burrows is dead. I watched him die in front of my eyes, the same as Elena did."

"Well, that's what I'm tryin' to tell to ya, Anton", said Marge. "The phone the calls came from belonged to that of a dead man."

"Yes, you already said that", Anton reminded her. "Is there any other information you would like to tell me that's just about as useless as you are?"

"Anton, please!" Elena begged him.

The man who was once a contract killer turned around, rolling his eyes in annoyance at the oblivious stupidity of the police work being done. It was sad, he thought, that not even the great policewoman Marge Gunderson had any knowledge about what she was doing. Anton Chigurh turned his attention to a map hanging up on the wall to distract himself.

Elena looked back at Marge and said, "Look, I know Gordon was a jerk when he was still alive, but I can't think of anybody who would want to see him dead."

"Did Andrew Pittman know Gordon Burrows?" Marge asked, ignoring the insult Anton just threw at her.

"Not that I know of", Elena answered.

Anton turned around suddenly and looked at Elena, asking her, "Does he know about Sophia?"

Elena looked over at him and shook her head. "No", she answered. "I never told him about Sophia."

"Then she is safe." Anton looked over at Lou and asked him, "Where would you say this Andrew Pittman was from?"

Lou shrugged his shoulders, looking uncertain. "Ah, jeez, I don't know. Somewhere out south, I guess. Why?"

Anton looked back at the Custom Ford and tried to figure out what sort of sadist he was dealing with, or would be dealing with in the future. "Nothing."

Elena turned around and walked back over to Lou, asking him, "Is Gordon's body still at the funeral home?"

"Oh, yah", Lou answered her. "He's still there, I reckon. Along with those other two that passed away in the church blaze."

Two days later, a funeral was held for the three victims that died in the Catholic church fire. Amongst the sobbing women and the men who shed an occasional tear, Sophia was quiet during the entire service. Anton stood beside Elena and looked over his shoulder during the service for any signs of a suspicious character. There was no danger. After the priest gave his eulogy, the child went to place a single red rose onto her father's grave. She kissed the tips of her little fingers and touched her hand onto the polished marble headstone with her father's name on it.

Later that night, after she finished putting Sophia to bed, Elena went into the living room and called up Marge and asked her for a ride to the hospital tomorrow. Marge agreed and informed her that Norm would give her a ride to the impound to pick up her car after she got off work. When asked what she was going to do about Sophia, Elena turned her head and looked over at Anton. Because he had nothing else better to do, Anton agreed to watch over the child. He answered her before she could even ask him.

The next morning, Marge came by the house to pick up Elena and take her to work. Soon as she left, it started raining.

Sophia sat in the living room in the chair by the window, listening to the calm and soothing pattern of rain hitting against the roof. She stared out into the vast, empty space of the woods before her, occasionally drawing pictures into the foggy glass with her finger. Once in a while she would glance over at Anton, who was sitting on the couch reading a book. He never so much as looked at her. It had been two hours of nothing but this, as man and child made no attempt at conversation.

Sophia slouched back in the chair and sighed to herself. She looked at Anton and stood up and walked over to him. He continued to read his book, ignoring her. The child tilted her head down to the left, looking as though she were studying him. She scratched her ear, wondering about him. Though she had seen and told him everything about his life, Sophia still had some questions of her own. She wondered if he ever had any friends before meeting Elena, she wondered about the killings he had done, she wondered why he always kept the same ridiculous haircut. Sophia dropped down to her knees and continued to stare at him, reading his mind.

Knowing she was never going to give up on whatever she was doing, Anton turned his head and looked at her, slightly annoyed. "Is there something you want?"

Sophia straightened her head and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know", she said.

Anton set the book he was reading down in his lap and questioned her, "You don't know?"

"I wanted to ask you something, but I know you don't like me asking you questions about anything."

"What is it you wanted to ask me?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm going to go to my room now. Don't follow me."

Sophia stood up and turned around and walked away. He watched her go. She went down the hall and disappeared from sight. With that, Anton returned his attention back to the book he was reading. Despite him being seemingly uninterested, his mind was more focused on the child.

After finishing the chapter he was reading, Anton closed the book and placed it on the coffee table and rose up and went down the hall to Sophia's room. He opened the door and found the room was empty. He entered and walked over and got down on his knees and looked under the bed. She was not there. Anton stood up and turned and looked over towards the closet. He walked over and looked at the handle, turning it slowly. He opened the door and looked down. The child was sitting on the floor, her head bowed down as she stroked the soft dorsal fin of her favorite plush shark companion.

"Are you all right?" Anton asked her.

Sophia looked up at him with sad brown eyes. "Do I look like I'm all right?"

He did not answer her.

Sophia stood up and walked out of the closet and went over and sat down on her bed. She held Quincy closer to her, holding him tightly as she slowly rocked herself back and forth.

Anton stood there for a minute, looking at her. He left the closet door open and went over to her. Sophia sniffled and gave a short gasp, crying softly. Her cheeks blushed a bright pink as tears rolled down her face.

Weeks before he died, Sophia foretold her birth father about his death. Although he was frightened to hear about this from his own child, Gordon Burrows swallowed his fear and asked but one request from his daughter: "Please don't cry at my funeral", he said. Now that he was truly gone forever, Sophia felt like breaking down, which she did.

Anton sat down next to Sophia and hugged his arms around her, comforting her. Sophia leaned herself against him and clutched onto his shirt, still crying.

"I miss him, Anton", Sophia told him, tearfully.

"I know you do", Anton whispered. Sophia sniffled again, to which he started to rub her back. "It's all right", he told her. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."

Sophia continued to sob quietly for a minute, but eventually, her crying ceased. Once she was calmed down, Sophia took a deep breath and asked the man that was holding her, "Did you cry when your Mommy and Daddy died?"

Not since the last time she had brought them up when they first met did Anton think about his parents. He thought about what she just asked him. "I would be lying if I said I didn't", Anton answered her. "But I was told to get over it just as soon as they died. I spent what little time my childhood had thinking they would be around forever. Sadly, that is not the way the world works. I won't tell you the same thing I was told. I know you're upset. You have every right to be. You never realize how much a person really means to you until they have been taken away from you."

Anton released Sophia and looked at her. The child looked up at him. "Did he ever say anything to you?"

"Your father asked me to take care of you before he died. He also told me to tell you he was sorry. He failed to give me a reason as to why he should beg for your forgiveness."

Sophia turned her head and looked over at her nightstand. She set Quincy down on the bed and reached over and opened the top drawer. She pulled out a photograph and handed it to Anton.

"That was me and him before", Sophia told him, wiping the tears from her face.

Anton looked at the picture that showed a smiling and healthier-looking Gordon Burrows sitting next to a young woman in a hospital bed. The woman, his wife Natalia, had sparkling eyes and light brown hair. In her arms, she was holding a newborn baby wrapped in a pink blanket.

"Your father loved your mother more than he loved you?" Anton asked the child.

"No", said Sophia. "He loved us both, but when my Mommy died, he stopped caring about everything, including me."

Anton gave the photograph back to Sophia, who placed it back into the drawer and closed it. Sophia placed her hands into her lap and sighed to herself. She looked at Anton and asked him, "Do you like me as a daughter or a friend?"

"I love you as if you were my own flesh and blood", Anton answered.

Sophia lowered her eyes and scooted closer to him. He wrapped his arms around her again, hugging her.

"I lost both my parents when I was two years younger than you", he said. "I'm sorry you had to suffer the same loss at such a young age."

"I know", said Sophia, solemnly. "Anton?"

"Yes?"

"Do you like being here with me and Elena?"

"You know that I do."

"And you'd never let anything bad happen to either me or her, would you?"

Anton turned his head and looked towards the window. It was still raining. "I'd rather die that loose either one of you", he said.

"That's good", said Sophia. "Anton?"

"What?"

"Do you mind if I call you Daddy?"

Anton paused for a minute. Then, he answered very softly, "I don't see any harm in that."

Later that night, around five minutes to seven, Sophia told Anton to go stand outside on the front porch.

"Why?" He asked her.

Sophia smiled and told him, "You'll find out."

He went outside and waited for about three minutes. Before long, a 1979 station wagon pulled up to the house. The driver turned off the headlights and stepped out of the car. It was Elena.

Anton walked over and approached the vehicle with a look of disapproval. "What is the meaning of this?" He questioned her.

"It's a car", said Elena, closing the door.

"Elena, you already have a car", said Anton.

"No, I had a car, but I decided to trade it in for the station wagon", Elena told him.

Anton looked at the station wagon with a blank stare, judging on whether it was a good idea or not, let alone a good investment. Finally, he looked at Elena and said, "The dealer cheated you?"

"The dealer gave me a hundred and fifty dollars for the damaged Beetle. Now, you can stand here and say that's too cheap and that I got cheated, but if you do, I'll have no other choice but to put you into an early grave. Do you understand me?" Elena spoke calmly to him, raising her eyebrows after making her sassy statement.

"So, why did you do it?"

"If someone you knew tried to kill you in your car, would you ever want to drive it again?"

Anton stared at her for a minute, gazing into those beautiful eyes he loved so much. He always found himself at peace whenever he looked into them. "I suppose not."

"Exactly."

Anton looked down at her right arm and took hold of her hand, looking over her wrist, which was still in a cast. "How does it feel?" He asked her.

"It doesn't hurt as much as it used to", Elena answered.

Anton looked at her and said, "You're lucky to be alive, you know that?"

Elena chuckled lightly and said, "I have you to thank for that, I guess."

Anton took Elena into his arms and kissed her passionately. Elena arched her back, moaning sensuously as he leaned her against the side of the car.

Looking out from the living room window, Sophia had only this to say, "Yuck! Why don't they just get a room?" And then she closed the curtain.