John Sandford: Wicked Prey

"Ah, Jesus."

"Yeah."

"So what've we got around this garage?" Lucas asked.

"We're sealing it off now, for two blocks in every direction. Skyways, alleys, streets. We're checking everything that moves, getting ready for a sweep. We can have five hundred cops here in two hours. If we can make him hide, we'll get him."

"If he exists," Lucas said. "Let's start with the parking garage. Look under every car, don't let anybody out. Remember, the guy's got a machine gun."

Lane had grown up in the countryside, had followed twisted-up creeks for miles down to the river, had navigated mile-long cornfields with the corn so high that you couldn't see beyond your hands. He didn't get turned around easily, and he'd been pretty sure he was right about the exit; and hadn't been unhappy that Cohn had disagreed. If Cohn ran into the cops '

Lane made it out of the garage, looked around, and dashed up the street, beginning to hope, now, that he might again see his wife and daughters. He spotted the street car, groped and found the emergency key under the bumper, opened the car, threw the jewel bag in, slid into the seat, jabbed the key at the ignition a couple of times before getting it in, and he was rolling.

He turned at the first block, saw no cops, accelerated, turned again, saw a couple of cops standing on a street corner, cruised by them without looking, turned again, and was now on a major street.

In fact, he knew exactly where he was. He'd both walked and driven it, when he was scouting the hotel. He peeled off his gloves, let himself relax just a notch. If he went straight, he'd go down in a valley, then up a bridge above some railroad tracks, and if he made a right turn at the end of the bridge '

He wouldn't hit another streetlight until he got to Chicago.

That was almost halfway home.

On Sunday, Weather slept in, until 7:30. Lucas usually got up with her, but this day, after the long week, he groaned and sat up, and Weather looked at him and patted him on the head and said, "Go back to sleep. You deserve it."

He dropped back on his pillow and was gone. When he finally did get up, a few minutes before nine o'clock, the house was unnaturally silent. He showered and shaved, put on fresh jeans-ironed, he thought, but not dry-cleaned-and wandered out to the kitchen in his stocking feet, carrying his shoes.

The place was empty, but a note dangled from the middle of the kitchen doorway, on the end of a strip of Scotch tape.

8:45. Gone to bakery wst Ellen@ingSam. Letty still asleep. Back in hour -W.

He yawned, stretched, put a teaspoon of instant coffee in a cup, filled it with water and stuck it in the microwave, got a box of Honey Nut Cheerios from the cupboard and a bottle of milk from the refrigerator, carried it to the breakfast nook and went back to get the coffee when the microwave beeped.

As he took it out, Letty appeared, clutching her bathrobe, her hair a blond tangle, her eyes still sleepy; she was wearing bunny-rabbit slippers.

"Got more coffee?"

"This is instant."

"Okay…" She shuffled over to the counter and got down a cup, and repeated Lucas's ritual with the Folgers, complete with the yawn and stretch.

"Finish that Mockingbird essay?" Lucas asked.

"Yeah."

She carried the coffee over to the table. "Is it any good?" he asked.

"I don't want to talk about that," she said. "I need to talk to you about something when Mom isn't here."

Lucas looked at her for a second, then said, "I don't keep much from your mom."

"You might keep this," she said. "It's for her own good."

"So ' what?"

She took a sip of coffee and then said, "I didn't tell you the truth about the other night, with Juliet."

Lucas looked at her over his cup. "So what's the truth?"

"I was there-I just got there-when they came out of the house. Randy was yelling at Juliet and Ranch to "get me." Juliet didn't push him, and he slashed her with that stick, and then she took him over the edge. I heard the cop car coming, freaked out, and took off on my bike. I didn't want Mom to know, because it might scare her."

Lucas sighed. "Ah, jeez ' But Briar said she hadn't seen you."

"I taught her how to lie," Letty said. "So she could deal with Randy."

"Letty'"

"That's not all'"

She told him about setting up Briar to get beaten. "I knew it'd happen sooner or later-probably lots of times. I thought if I could get it to happen while I was there, I could call the cops, and they could get there, and Randy'd go back to prison. I didn't know they'd rape her."

Lucas looked at her for a bit, shook his head, poured some Cheerios.

Letty said, "I thought I better say something before, you know, tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" He was confused.

"You know-the court thing."

"What does that have to do with this?"

She took another sip, then said, "You know-in case you wanted to change your mind."

"Aw, for Christ's sake, Letty. We're not going to change our minds. What're you thinking about?"

He actually saw her come unknotted: "I was a little worried," she said.

"I'm a little worried, too," he said. "If you called nine-one-one, that means your voice is on tape and there's no way to get it off. If Briar talks to somebody…"

"Why would anybody care?" she asked. "They know what happened. She got raped and beaten up, and she pushed Randy over the edge. You said they're not going to prosecute her, and besides, she's a juvenile."

"Ranch isn't," Lucas said. "If he brings you up…"

"You told me Ranch doesn't remember anything," Letty said.

"He doesn't-or says he doesn't. And he was so iced up, I believe him. But' there could be fallout. They could put him on trial, they could put Briar on the stand…" He shook his head. "There could be trouble."

"Nothing I can't handle," she said. "I'm a kid. I got scared and ran away after calling the cops, and never told you. What could they do to me?"

He looked at her for a moment, calculating, smiled, one of his smiles that tended to scare people-but not Letty-and said, "Nothing."

"And that's what we tell Mom, right?"

He thought for another moment and then said, "That would be best. We ' let it go."

She stood up and said, "I've got to get dressed. I look like the witch in The Wizard of Oz."

As she was on her way out, carrying the cup of coffee, he said, "Hey."

She stopped.

Lucas said, "I'm not sure I'd have been smart enough to pull it off, when I was your age, but I would have tried. I would have tried the same goddamn thing. You take care of your family and you take care of your friends."

"Goddamn right," she said.

Jesse Lane was standing in the barn watching Max Gomez weld a broken tongue on the hay wagon, the place redolent with the burning metal, when his cell phone burped. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the face of it: "Caller Unknown."

He said, "Yeah?", half-expecting one of those robotic campaign recordings. Instead, he got Lindy.

"Jesse, you know who this is?"

"Where're you at?" he asked, stepping outside into the sunshine.

"That's for me to know and you to figure out' if you want to go to the trouble," she said. "I wanted to call and find out if you're going to hunt me down and kill me."

"I thought about it. Brute would have. He said so," Lane said.

"Yeah, well, if you're gonna try to get me, I'll have to try to get you first. I got the money to do it," Lindy said.

Lane laughed and said, "Hey, Lindy. Don't do that."

"We gonna let it go?" she asked.

"Fine with me," he agreed.

"You heard about what the cops say-that Brute shot Tate and Rosie."

"Don't surprise me none," Lane said. "He'd think that was the efficient thing to do."