Nelson DeMille - Spencerville

"Okay, do me a favor — don't rock the boat anymore, and tell everyone the same thing. I don't want to spook him if he's up there. Okay?"

"Okay..."

"What does the house look like, Terry?"

"Oh, jeez... I was only up there a few times... it's an A-frame, dark wood, set back a ways from the lake."

"What side of the lake?"

"Let's see... north side. Yes, north side of the lake, and you can only get to it by a single-lane dirt road through the woods."

"Okay. Tell Larry I said hello. I'll call you both tonight from Michigan."

"Promise?"

"You know I will, Terry. Hey, I'm sorry..."

"No, don't apologize. You did the best you could. That bastard is the devil — I swear he is."

"I'll bring his tail and horns back for you."

She tried to laugh. "Oh, God... I'd kill him myself if I could... Keith?"

"Yes?"

"If she can't be with you, she'd rather be dead than be with him. I'm frightened for her."

"I told her we'd be together again. She knows that."

"I pray to God you're right."

"Speak to you tonight." He hung up and took another Rolodex card out of his pocket and dialed.

The operator gave him the charge, and he put the coins in and heard it ring.

An answering machine picked up, and Cliff Baxter's voice said, "You reached Big Chief Cliff's lodge. Ain't nobody here. If you know where the fish is bitin', or the deer is hidin', leave a message."

The machine beeped, and Keith was tempted, but hung up.

Keith took another Rolodex out of his pocket on which were the mobile phone numbers of Spencerville's ten police cars and the beeper page numbers of all fifteen officers. He dialed a beeper number, hung up, and waited.

The phone rang, and he picked it up. "Officer Schenley?"

"Who is this?"

Keith could tell that Schenley was calling from his mobile phone. Keith replied, "This is Keith Landry."

There was a pause, then Schenley said, "How'd you know my beeper number?"

"Doesn't matter. Are you alone?"

"Yup. Cruising. Looking for you, as a matter of fact."

"Well, here I am."

"Where?"

"Let me ask the questions. Do you have a friend on the city council?"

Again, there was a pause, then Schenley said, "Maybe."

"That's my friend, too."

"I know."

"I need some help."

"I guess you do. I'm surprised you're alive."

"Do you want to help?"

"Hold on. Let me pull over." A minute later, Schenley said, "Okay. Listen, Landry, there's a warrant out for your arrest."

"For what?"

"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.

Keith thought about what Schenley had said and what Terry had said. Obviously, the call that Annie had made to Terry on Monday night was not made from Spencerville, but from Grey Lake if Schenley's chronology was correct, and it probably was. If Baxter had left Spencerville about three A.M., he'd have been at Grey Lake about nine or ten A.M., with a side trip to burn down the Landry house. Baxter had called his children from Grey Lake in the morning, then made Annie call her sister much later, probably after he realized that all the news reports about the Baxters being reunited and in seclusion needed to be verified by Annie to at least one family member. Also, the Florida story had to be put out. Again, Keith thought, Baxter was not only vicious but cunning. A bad combination.