Jeffery Deaver - The Empty Chair

"Is it patrolled?"

"Not anymore."

"What's that square area? At spot E-5 and E-6?"

"That? Probably that old amusement park," Bell said, looking at Farr and Ben.

"Right," said Ben. "My brother and I used to go there when I was a kid. It was called, what? Indian Ridge or something."

Bell nodded. "It was a re-creation of an Indian village. Went outa business a few years ago – nobody went. Williamsburg and Six Flags were a lot more popular. Good place to hide but it's in the opposite direction of the Outer Banks. Garrett wouldn't go there."

Bell touched spot H-14. "Lucy's here. And Garrett and Amelia'd have to stick to Harper Road in those parts. They go off the road and it's swampland filled with clay. Take 'em days to get through it – if they survived, which they probably wouldn't. So… I guess we just wait and see what happens."

Rhyme nodded absently, his eyes moving like his friend – the skittish fly, now departed – from one topographical landmark in Paquenoke County to another.

Garrett Hanlon led Amelia down a wide asphalt road. They were walking slower than before, exhausted from the exertion and the heat.

There was a familiarity about the area and she realized this was Canal Road – the one that they'd taken from the County Building that morning to search the crime scenes at Blackwater Landing. Ahead she could see the dark rippling of the Paquenoke River. Across the canal were those large, beautiful houses she'd commented on earlier to Lucy.

She looked around. "I don't get it. This is the main road into town. Why aren't there any roadblocks?"

"They think we're going a different way. They've set up the roadblocks south and east of here."

"How do you know that?"

Garrett answered, "They think I'm fucked-up. They think I'm stupid. When you're different that's what people think. But I'm not."

"But we are going to Mary Beth?"

"Sure. Just not the way they think."

Once again Garrett's confidence and caginess troubled her but her attention slipped back to the road and they continued on in silence. In twenty minutes they were within a half-mile of the intersection where Canal Road ended at Route 112 – the place where Billy Stail had been killed.

"Listen!" he whispered, gripping her arm with his cuffed hands.

She cocked her head but heard nothing.

"Into the bushes." They slipped off the road into a stand of scratchy holly trees.

"What?" she asked.

"Shhhh."

A moment later a large flatbed truck came into view behind them.

"That's from the factory," he whispered. "Up ahead there."

The sign on the truck was for Davett Industries. She recognized the name of the man who'd helped them with the evidence. When it was past they returned to the road.

"How did you hear that?"

"Oh, you gotta be cautious all the time. Like moths."

"Moths? What do you mean?"

"Moths're pretty cool. They, like, sense ultrasound waves. They have these radar detector things. When a bat shoots out a beam of sound to find them, moths fold their wings and drop to the ground and hide. Magnetic and electronic fields too – insects can feel them. Like, things we aren't even aware of. You know you can lead some insects around with radio waves? Or make 'em go away too, depending on the frequency." He fell silent, head turned away, frozen in position. Then he looked back at her. He said, "You have to listen all the time. Otherwise they can sneak up on you."

"Who?" she asked uncertainly.

"You know, everybody." Then he nodded up the road, toward Blackwater Landing and the Paquenoke. "Ten minutes and we'll be safe. They'll never find us."

She was wondering what, realistically, would happen to Garrett when they found Mary Beth and returned to Tanner's Corner. There would still be some charges against him. But if Mary Beth corroborated the story of the real murderer – the man in the tan overalls – then the D.A. might accept that Garrett had kidnapped her for her own good. Defense of others was recognized by all criminal courts as a justification. And he'd probably drop the charges.

And who was the man in the overalls? Why was he prowling the forests of Blackwater Landing? Had he been the one who'd killed those other residents over the past few years and was trying to blame Garrett for the deaths? Had he scared young Todd Wilkes into killing himself? Was there a drug ring that Billy Stail had been involved in? She knew that drug problems in small towns were as serious as in the city.

Then something else occurred to her: that Garrett could identify Billy Stail's real murderer – the man in the overalls, who by now might've heard about the escape and be out looking for Garrett and for her too. To silence them. Maybe they should -

Suddenly Garrett froze, an alarmed look on his face. He spun around.

"What?" she whispered.

"Car, moving fast."

"Where?"

"Shhh."

A flash of light from behind them caught their eyes.

You have to listen all the time. Otherwise they can sneak up on you.

"No!" Garrett cried in dismay and pulled her into a stand of sedge.

Two Paquenoke County squad cars were racing along Canal Road. She couldn't see who was driving the first one but the deputy in the passenger seat – the black deputy who'd set up the chalkboard for Rhyme – was squinting as he scanned the woods. He held a shotgun. Lucy Kerr was driving the second car. Jesse Corn sat beside her.

Garrett and Sachs lay flat, hidden by broom grass.

Moths fold their wings and drop to the ground…

The cars sped past and skidded to a stop where Canal Road met Route 112. They parked perpendicular to the road, blocking both lanes, and the deputies got out, weapons ready.

"Roadblock," she muttered. "Hell."

"No, no, no," Garrett muttered, dumbfounded. "They were supposed to think we were going the other way – east. They had to think that!"

A passenger car passed them, slowing at the end of the road. Lucy flagged down the car and questioned the driver. Then they made him get out of the vehicle and open the trunk, which they searched carefully.

Garrett huddled in the nest of grass. "How the fuck d'they figure out we were coming this way?" he whispered. " How? "

Because they've got Lincoln Rhyme , Sachs answered silently.

"They don't see anything yet, Lincoln," Jim Bell told him.

"Amelia and Garrett aren't going to be walking down the middle of Canal Road," Rhyme said testily. "They'll be in the bushes. Keeping a low profile."

"There's a roadblock set up and they're searching every car," Jim Bell said. "Even if they know the drivers."

Rhyme looked again at the map on the wall. "There's no other way for them to go west from Tanner's Corner?"

"From the lockup the only way through the marshes is Canal Road to Route 112." But Bell sounded doubtful. "I gotta say, though, this's a big risk, Lincoln – committing everybody to Blackwater Landing. If they really are headed east to the Outer Banks they're gonna get past us now and we'll never find them. This idea of yours, well, it's a little far-fetched."

But Rhyme believed it was right. As he'd stared at the map twenty minutes before, tracing the route the boy had taken with Lydia – which led toward the Great Dismal Swamp and very little else – he had started wondering about Lydia's abduction. He had remembered what Sachs had told him when they were in the field pursuing Garrett this morning.

Lucy says it doesn't make any sense for him to come this way.

And that had made him ask a question that no one had yet answered satisfactorily. Why exactly did Garrett kidnap Lydia Johansson? To kill her as a substitute victim was Dr. Penny's answer. But, as it turned out, he hadn't killed her even though he'd had plenty of time to. Or raped her. Nor was there any other motive for abducting her. They were strangers, she'd never taunted him, he didn't seem to have an obsession with her, she wasn't a witness to Billy's murder. What could his point have been?