“We couldn’t reach him by phone, so we just drove here. We’ve been waiting for him. It doesn’t matter now, it’s too late. They’ve found us.”
“Who is ‘they’? The Backmans?”
She nodded. “There’s a nest of them, Sheriff. I thank you for all you’ve done, I really do, but Autumn and I are going to be leaving How I will keep in touch.”
“I low many times did you rehearse that little departure speech?”
“Three, four times, in front of the mirror. That doesn’t change the facts Autumn’s in danger here. I want to take her away from the danger, it’s that simple.”
“Blessed would have murdered you, probably me as well.”
“Yes, I suppose so, through Ox.”
“I’ll bet Ox feels really lousy that it was his finger on the trigger.”
“Look, I’m really sorry about what happened to Ox.” She set the mug on the coffee table beside his and rose, smoothing down her creased jeans with her palms. He slowly rose to stand in front of her. He was big and barefoot, he hadn’t shaved, and his Beretta was clipped to his jeans. He imagined he looked like a thug who needed a shower. He hoped she might be intimidated, but he gave it up when she merely raised an eyebrow at him and looked amused. He said, “I don’t think it’d be too bright to ignore this. You know, running from trouble might save you for the short term, but trouble always catches up. Always.”
She stared down at his grandpa’s mug.
“Look, Joanna, I get that you’re afraid for your daughter.”
“Yes, and myself.”
“Tell me about Blessed and the ‘mad old woman.’ Tell me all about the Backmans. Blessed referred to his ma?”
She sighed. “I could tell you, and maybe you could even talk the local police chief into going to see them, but trust me on this—nothing would be done, and that’s because everyone’s afraid of them, even that good-old-boy sheriff, Burris Cole.”
“Where is this? Where do they live?”
Since she ignored the question, he continued, “I can see being scared spitless of them, after seeing what Blessed can do to another human being. What makes you think when we find Blessed our charges won’t stick? After all, he’ll be here, not with his own local sheriff.”
“Maybe because the judge would look at Blessed and dismiss the case, or the prosecutor would look at him and never bring a case, or, better yet, the cops sent to arrest him would look at him and they’d let him go, maybe even give him a lift to wherever he wanted to go— better yet, even forget why they were there in the first place. This is not what could be possible. This is exactly what would happen. Believe me, Sheriff.”
He said, “I gotta admit, you’ve hit a solid point there. We’ll get to that in a moment. I don’t want you to think I’m just this boondocks sheriff who doesn’t know his butt from his boots. I was this big law enforcement honcho back in Washington, a DEA agent.”
That drew her up short. “DEA?”
“You know, the Drug Enforcement Administration. Maybe I wasn’t a real big honcho, but I think I did some good.”
“Then how did you get to be a sheriff in the boondocks?”
He gave her a big grin. “Like you, I couldn’t stand being trapped inside a building, wearing a suit and wing tips. Don’t get me wrong, if they’d let me out in the field, I’d have been happy as a clam, but they wanted me in a Washington tactical desk job.”
She picked up his grandfather’s mug. “I need a refill.”
“No, you don’t. Step away from the mug, Joanna.”
She laughed, couldn’t help it.
“So tell me about Blessed. All he has to do to hypnotize someone is to look them straight in the eye, that’s it? Can he do it to any-one?”
How had he gotten her off on this track, and talking? This was bad. She wasn’t amused at his macho show now, probably because he wasn’t playing at it any longer, that hard look on his face all too real. Because she’d known such fear in the last two weeks, felt so
“I don’t know. I guess so. I only saw him do it to one other person besides Ox. It was instant, what he did.”
Ethan said slowly, “I’ve always heard you can’t hypnotize another prison into acting contrary to their wishes. But here’s the thing, Joanna. Last night, it seemed to me that Ox would have killed you, killed me, killed anyone who happened to get in his way of nabbing Autumn. You don’t know Ox, but I do, and that guy last night wasn’t the man I know. He didn’t even sound like himself, exactly—manic, excited, quite mad, really. It was more than hypnosis, I’m thinking. It’s scary, Joanna, what he did to Ox.”
“Sheriff, I appreciate your wanting to protect us, but Blessed is out there, mending his arm, making his plans. Autumn and I must leave We’ve got to stop at the B-and-B and pack our things. I do thank you for what you’ve done for us, Sheriff.”
“You’re welcome, but I’ve just begun to fight. Now, I’ll take you to the B-and-B. While you’re getting your stuff together, I’ll make some calls. We’re staying together, Joanna, get used to it.”
15
NORTHEAST WASHINGTON, D.C.
Sunday, late afternoon
Buzz Riley looked one last time at the bed he and his wife, Eloise, had shared for more than thirty-six years. He’d never been gone from home for long since she died of ovarian cancer the year before. He missed her every single day, a steady ache. Was the ache less than it had been six months ago? He didn’t know. His three kids worried about him, and hovered. At first it was good, but soon it was driving him nuts. He figured out they’d made a schedule to see him, especially on the weekends, and that drove him nuts too. He tried to tell them he needed time alone, to reflect, to remember, to enjoy fishing in his new fifteen-foot Blue Fin Dory, but they wouldn’t pay any attention. One of his kids and some of his grandkids were always with him, the kids pressed against his back at the center console.
He fastened his ancient army duffel bag, checked to see that all the kitchen appliances were turned off, something Eloise had trained him to do, locked the front door, and carefully set the house alarm, He walked to his 2007 blue Chrysler Sebring, the first convertible he’d ever owned. They’d bought it from their mail carrier—only nine thousand miles on it—a year before Eloise died. She loved to ride around with him with the top down, laughing like a teenager some-times, until one day she stuck her head out the side and an insect hit her front teeth. Buzz grinned at the memory of her shriek. He could still see her scrubbing her fingers manically over her teeth, trying to find a Kleenex.
He tossed his duffel into the passenger seat and slid across the soft black leather, closed the door. He patted the dashboard, still looking good as new, since he kept his baby cleaned and polished inside and out. He loved this car, only wondered in that moment if the damned thing had taken some of Eloise’s place in his affections.
“Nah,” he said aloud, and turned the key in the ignition.
Nothing happened. The engine didn’t even turn over.
He centered the steering wheel and turned the key again.
There was a small grinding noise that didn’t sound good, but then the engine roared to life, hummed smooth, and happy. He gave it some gas, listened to the sweet music. “Ah, there you go, beautiful.”
Buzz backed out of his driveway slowly because the neighborhood was always hopping, kids playing in the street, riding bikes. Didn’t matter if it was nearly seven o’clock in the evening, if it was still light there was action.
He waved to a couple of teenage boys who looked like they were going to smoke dope the minute he was out
