“Mom, tell me again what Alfred did.”
“He shot somebody. A clerk in a food store, I believe. Anyway, the man is dead.”
Alfred shot somebody? He was weird, but Penny didn’t consider him to be dangerous in a physical sense. “Where was this?”
“Somewhere in Montana. The police called from Montana.”
The conversation was unreal. Penny looked for Gary. He wasn’t in sight. She said, “Did Alfred get arrested?”
“No. They don’t know where he is, but they think he might be looking for you.”
It was getting more and more confusing. “Why did the police call you?”
“Because Alfred had your yearbook picture in his car. You know, the one in your cheerleader uniform.”
“I thought you said they didn’t know where Alfred is.”
“They don’t, but they found his car.”
Okay, she would accept that. “So he had my picture in his car? And they traced the picture to Fenwick High School?”
“That’s right. Please be careful, Penny dear. Alfred is a dangerous character.”
Maybe her mother was right. Their meeting with Alfred in Seattle couldn’t be just a coincidence if he had her picture. She didn’t want her mother to worry. “We’re safe, Mom. We’re in Yellowstone. He’ll never find us here.”
“The police want you to call them collect. I wrote down the number. I put it here somewhere. Just a minute.”
While her mother was searching for the phone number, Penny spotted Gary buying postcards. When she caught his eye she waved frantically for him to come to the phone. He took his time coming, which made her mad, almost the first time she could remember being mad at him. Then she realized it was because of the tension she was feeling.
Her mother came back on the phone. “I’ve got the number. Do you have a pencil and paper? The police want you to call them right away.”
Penny wrote down the number. She didn’t want to hang up abruptly on her mother, so she chatted about where they were and what they had done. She told a couple of funny stories about their experiences, but she didn’t mention that they had been with Alfred. She didn’t want her mother to worry about her. When her mother seemed calmer, Penny said good-bye and hung up.
By this time, Gary had been cooling his heels for several minutes. Penny blurted out, “Alfred killed somebody.”
“Huh?”
“He shot a clerk in a food store.” She was acting as disjointed as her mother, so she took a deep breath to slow herself down and told Gary what she knew.
“He’s been following us,” were the first words out of Gary’s mouth. “He’s crazy. It’s a good thing we got away from him when we did, and that we didn’t give him specific information about where we were going in Yellowstone.”
“I have to call this number,” Penny said. “Maybe the police can tell us more.”
She dialed the operator and told her she wanted to make a collect call. After the officer who answered accepted the call, she was asked to wait and impatiently suffered on hold for thirty seconds. Then a man came on the line and said, “Detective Landon.”
Penny identified herself. In response to his questions, she acknowledged that she knew Alfred and that she had seen him recently. She asked how they knew he had murdered someone.
“Shortly after the murder, he was stopped for speeding in another town. He posted bail, but when the officers in that town received news of the killing, they immediately informed us about him, because he had acted suspiciously. We put out an APB for his car, and it was found apparently abandoned three or four hours later. Inside we discovered several bullets that were the same make and caliber as the one in the victim’s body.”
“Did you find a gun?”
“We haven’t located the murder weapon. Or Alfred Ward. We think he may have taken another car that was stolen from a driveway not far from where his car was found. We have an APB out for that car.”
“Do you know where he’s headed?”
“He told one officer he was going to Billings, but based on other evidence in the car, we suspect he may be following you.”
“What other evidence?” Penny looked at Gary. He must have seen the fear on her face, because he was paying close attention to what she was saying.
“We found a spiral notebook in the car. Did you recently get married in Reno?”
“That’s our notebook.”
“And there were several pictures of you.”
“More than one?”
“Yes. I’d like to meet with you. Where are you now?”
“Mammoth, in Yellowstone.”
“It’ll be a while before I can get away. Can you meet me at the coffee shop at Mammoth Hot Springs at six o’clock this afternoon?”
Penny agreed.
Detective Landon told her to watch for Alfred. He described the car Alfred was suspected of having stolen, including the license plate number.
“Do you think he’ll find us here?”
“Your plans for Yellowstone, as stated in the notebook, are pretty general. And, of course, he no longer has the notebook. We have the Park Service employees at the entrances to Yellowstone looking for his car, but I would certainly keep an eye out for him.”
Penny hung up the phone in a state of shock and said to Gary, “He’s got our notebook.”
“So that’s what happened to it. He must have taken it out of our tent at Crater Lake. No wonder he knew where to find us. Although that doesn’t tell us how he followed us to Crater Lake.”
“Gary, he’s the one who had you arrested and disrupted our wedding.”
“But the description the woman at the chapel gave was that of a man who had long hair and a beard.”
“And a potbelly.”
“My God. I think you’re right. He could have shaved off his beard. He must have followed us all the way from Los Angeles. Which means that he knew where you lived there. That boy is sick.”
“I never did anything to encourage him-to lead him on.”
“It’s not your fault, honey. As I said, he’s sick.
“But he must think… Anyway, we’re meeting the detective at the coffee shop here at six. He thinks Alfred is still following us.”
“It sure sounds like it.”
“And he may still have a gun. What shall we do now?”
Gary thought for a minute. “Let’s stay on the move. I think it’s the safest thing we can do. We can spot his car easier on the road, but Yellowstone is a big place. There’s a good chance he’ll never find us. Anyway, I’ll protect you.”
Gary gave her a hug. Penny felt better in his arms. Could he really protect her from Alfred with a gun? He might get shot. She would never forgive herself for that.
Alfred was feeling remorse about giving up his car. He loved that car. He should have been able to figure out a way to keep it. If only that man hadn’t tried to pull a gun on him. Or had he? Alfred didn’t remember actually seeing a gun, only a glint of metal. And then blood. Lots of blood. He hadn’t meant to shoot. He thought the safety was on.
Oh well, no use crying over spilt milk, as his grandmother used to say. He had slept in the car on a side road, not trusting himself to register at a motel. The police knew his name. He could register under an assumed name,
