Spencerville

"Well, this and that. All bullshit. Signed by Judge Thornsby here, who'll sign anything Baxter shoves under his nose. But there's no state warrant for kidnapping. On the other hand, we just got a message that the state police are looking for you as a witness."

"Witness to what?"

"You know to what. To what happened at that motel."

"Were you there?"

"No. Baxter wouldn't take me on that kind of thing, and I wouldn't go. But I was on the desk that night." He added, "I didn't like what I saw."

"What did you see?"

"Well... damn, I'm a cop, Landry, and you're a fugitive..."

"Are you sleeping well?"

"No."

"Schenley, you understand that Baxter has broken the law, and that when it hits the fan, everybody goes down with him. He doesn't care about you or the men."

"I don't need convincing."

"How do the men feel?"

"Scared. But happy he isn't here."

"Does he call?"

"Maybe. If he does, he only calls Blake."

Neither man spoke for a few seconds, then Schenley said, "Okay, about two A.M. Monday, I'm on the desk, and Baxter gets in from Toledo with the three guys he took with him — no names, okay? And with them is... her. He brings her into the station house, in cuffs for God's sake, and puts her in a cell. He's got blood all over his pants, down his left leg, and he's limping, and you can tell he's in pain, and his right eye's got blood in it, too, like somebody smacked him or poked him, and he's swearing like a trooper. Anyway, then he leaves with one of the guys, and the other two stay there. One of the guys tells me you tried to knife the chief in the balls. Then, about an hour later, Baxter comes back with his Bronco, and he's in civvies now, and he takes her away in cuffs. I saw that the Bronco was packed with clothes and stuff, and Baxter's three dogs were in the back."

Keith nodded. "Where did they go?"

"I don't know. I heard something about Florida. But I know I saw him turn south on Chestnut Street, and I remember wondering why he wasn't heading east to pick up a highway."

"Because he made a stop at my place first."

"Yeah... I know. Sorry."

"Has anyone gone out to the Porter house to look for me?"

"Yeah. Ward's out that way. The Porters aren't home, but Ward cruises by once in a while."

"How many men in a car?"

"One. We got to cover a lot of ground. They think you're heading back this way. They got all the honorary deputy sheriffs out, too, and they also called out the mounted posse. They haven't done that in about five years since a kid went missing. There's about twenty deputies out in their private cars, and maybe twenty mounted posse. Hey, if you're not in Spencer County, don't come."

"Thanks. I won't." Keith asked, "Did she look all right?"

Schenley didn't reply immediately, then said, "As well as can be expected." He added, "She had a bruise on her face... you know, when she was in the cell, I wanted to talk to her, but the other two guys were there, and I felt about as bad as I've ever felt. She just sat there, no crying, no screaming, just sort of, like, above it all — very classy lady — and when she looked at me and the other two guys, there wasn't any, like, hate or anything, just sort of like... she felt sorry for us..."

"Okay... thanks. I'll remember the favor if it ever comes up in court."

"Thanks, Landry. This is a damned mess. I can't understand how these three guys, who I thought I knew, could do what they did."

"When we know that, we'll have solved most of the world's problems." He added, "I'll put in a good word for you with Pastor Wilkes."

Schenley laughed, then said, "Hey, for your information, Baxter had a homing transmitter on your Blazer."

Damn it. He asked Schenley, "What color is his Bronco?"

"Black." He gave him the license plate number and added, "Hey, let it go, Landry. Stay away from here. They're looking for you, and Baxter's long gone."

"Yeah, but maybe I'll head for Florida, too."

"He'll kill you next time. The other guys with him say they had to pull him off you before he killed you."

"Thanks again." Keith hung up and got back into the van, where Chuck was drinking a Big Gulp and eating a donut.

Chuck said, "Got extra donuts here."

"Thanks. Make a left."

"Sure thing." Chuck pulled out of the 7-Eleven and made a left on the commercial strip. He said, "This ain't the way to Lima."

"No. Make another left at that light."

"Sure thing. Don't mean to be nosy, John, but I get the feeling something's bothering you."

"No, I'm fine, Chuck. In fact, that phone call just restored my faith in the human race."

"Yeah? Sorry I missed that."

"But don't miss your turn. Left here."

They headed south into the country.