Spencerville

"Sort of." He went into the lobby. Near the front desk, sitting on a shelf, he found the 800-number reservation telephone. He picked it up, got the reservation operator, and made a late-arrival reservation for the Sheraton at Cleveland Airport and confirmed it with his American Express card. He then went to a pay phone and called the 800 number for USAir. He reserved two seats on the eight-fifteen morning flight from Cleveland to New York and gave his card number. He wasn't used to escape-and-evasion in his own country, but he was reasonably sure his toll-free calls couldn't be traced back to the Toledo area. And even if they were, the police would be looking for him on the interstate to Cleveland, or more likely waiting for him at the Airport Sheraton in Cleveland. Red herrings were so stupidly simple they sometimes worked, and only two things were necessary for success — a police force efficient enough to pick up on the reservations, but gullible enough to think it was real. As for the latter, he assumed the police thought they were looking for John A. Citizen, not someone who'd once done this for a living.

He left the lobby, went to the Blazer, took his briefcase out of the rear, and got back behind the wheel. "Could you hold this?"

She took the briefcase, and Keith pulled out of the motel parking lot, continuing east on the highway.

Annie asked, "Aren't we staying there?"

"No." He explained what he'd done.

She looked at him and asked, "This was your vocation or avocation?"

"Vocation." He added, "And I thought it had no application to civilian life. Goes to show you."

He continued east, along the highway toward Toledo, whose downtown skyscrapers he could now see. Traffic was heavier here, and the commercial strip was more built-up.

He considered switching license plates. That meant finding a car that he thought would be parked all night and/or whose owner wouldn't notice that his plates had been switched and report it. Meanwhile, they could drive all night with the switched plates and be in Washington before dawn. But you never knew if the plates had been reported stolen. Also, even if the plates weren't reported stolen, the police were looking for a green Blazer, and if they saw one and the license plate on the Blazer didn't match the all-points bulletin, they'd still run the license number through the computer to see if it matched up. Basically, switching plates was a sucker's bet.

She asked him, "What are you thinking about?"

"Options. Run or hide?"

"Why don't we just go to a police station and explain?"

"That is not an option."

"Why not?"

He told her why not and asked, "Are you up for that domestic scene?"

She thought a moment and replied, "If it was just him, I could handle it. If my children were with him... I don't know..."

"Why don't we just lay low overnight and think about it in the morning? These all-points bulletins tend to get a little stale after a while, and maybe by morning, the state police will have had a few conversations with the Spencerville police chief and maybe with the security guy at the airport. They may very well conclude that Mr. Baxter is not telling it like it is."

She nodded. "Maybe..."

"And to tell you the truth, it's not a good idea to be in the hands of the police at this hour of the night without a judge or lawyer available."

She tried to laugh and said, "You think like a criminal."

"I was a criminal in many countries, never my own. But the rules are the same." He added, "I think time is on our side if we lay low. But I won't do anything you're not comfortable with."

"I haven't heard those words in a while." She thought a moment, then said, "Maybe we should stop for the night... and in the morning, even if I have to see him and to explain to the police, I'd rather do it then."

"With luck, you won't have to see him tomorrow or ever again."

"Good."

"All right, so now we're looking for a hot-sheet motel. Know any?"

She smiled. "I know six or seven."

"One will do. Open my briefcase." He gave her the combination.

She opened it, and he said, "This is going to make you laugh. There's a false bottom." He explained how to open it and said, "I need the eyeglasses and the small brown envelope."

She retrieved both items without a word.

He took the glasses and put them on, then said, "Open the envelope. No laughing."

She opened the envelope and took out a mustache the color of Keith's light brown hair. He said, "Peel off the cellophane and stick it on me."

She did what he said, and he checked himself in the rearview mirror. "What do you think?"

"I'm speechless."

"That's a treat. Keep looking for a motel." He took a comb out of his windbreaker and restyled his hair.

She said, "How about that place? Up ahead on the right."