Perhaps not, but Im effective. He paused at the door. You stay here. You have no car and I wont let you in my Volvo.
Id feel better going with you.
Since Im in control of the transport, I get my way. Ill see you for dinner. Come to my room at eight. I saw a menu flyer from Bubba Blues Barbecue. He shook his head. What a name. Thank God they de-liver. I have a vision of sawdust on the floor, a rattle-snake in a glass case, and a moaning country singer. I shudder at the chance were taking.
The door closed behind him.
She was shuddering too, but for a different reason. She closed her eyes, but she could still see Lisa Chadbournes face as she looked up at Detwil. The loyal wife protecting her husband in his hour of need.
But it was Logan who was in need. Logan and Gil who were on the run.
Where the hell were they?
Sweet Jesus, Sandra murmured, her gaze on the television screen. Whats happening to her, Margaret?
Nothing. They havent been caught and they wont be. Johns too smart to let that happen. This is just upsetting you. Margaret turned off the set. Hell, its upsetting me too.
Why hasnt she called me?
She called you yesterday.
But she must know Id see What should we do?
What were doing. Sit tight until John gets everything straightened out.
Yeah, sure. She nibbled at her lower lip. Maybe we should do something.
Like what?
I have a friend in the D.A.s office.
No, Margaret said sharply, then she tempered her tone. He couldnt help and hed lead anyone in-terested right to us.
Maybe not. Ron would be careful.
Sandra, no.
I cant just sit here. She looked Margaret in the eye. I know you think Im some kind of lightweight, but Ive been around the block a couple of times. Give me a chance to do something.
I dont think youre a lightweight, Margaret said gently. I think youre smart and kind and under normal conditions youd be taking care of me. These arent normal conditions. Just be patient, okay?
Sandra shook her head.
Okay, then try to get your mind off it. How about a game of blackjack?
Again? You always beat me. You must spend half your time in Las Vegas.
Well hellip; Margaret grinned. One of my brothers is a dealer.
I knew it.
Okay, no blackjack. Ill make the supreme sacri-fice and let you cook me another one of those won-derful meals. You do realize Im going to be a blimp before we get out of here.
Im a lousy cook, and you know it. Stop trying to distract me.
Well, the casserole last night was better than the chili for lunch. Maybe youre getting better.
And maybe cows can fly. She might as well go along with her, Sandra thought resignedly. Margaret could be relentless, and besides, cooking did keep her occupied. She rose to her feet. Ill make a pot roast. But you have to make the salad and do the dishes.
Im just a drudge, Margaret groaned. Okay, lets get at it.
Third time lucky.
Fiske watched the two women bustling around the kitchen. The scent of meat and peppers drifted to him and reminded him he hadnt had breakfast that morning. The smell evidently had attracted Pilton too, because he had come in from the porch and was standing in the kitchen, talking to Margaret Wilson.
Fiske backed away from the window into the shrubbery and set off through the woods. He reached his car, which was parked in the driveway of an empty rental cottage. Now that Sandra Duncan had been located, he could call and pacify Timwick. Then hed contact Lisa Chadbourne and tell her of his progress. Though from what hed seen on the news that morning, shed been a little too busy to worry about Sandra Duncan.
Too bad about Scott Maren. The doctor had been on the list Timwick had given him and he felt a little cheated that the job had been given to someone else.
He opened the glove box, took out the list, and drew a line through Marens name. He couldnt take credit, but he could keep the list accurate.
He had another name to add to the list. He care-fully wrote in the name Joe Quinn. Kesslers assistant had been very helpful last night.
He took out the pictures of Quinn and Kessler that Timwick had faxed him and studied them. Kessler was old and would probably pose no chal-lenge, but Quinn was young, fit, and a cop. He might prove interesting.
He glanced down at the road atlas open on the passenger seat. Kesslers assistant had known nothing about Kesslers recent activities but he knew his pat-tern, his methods, his friends, his modus operandi.
