'We've got to slow them down.'
Frankie pulled a pocketknife out of her purse.
'Will this help?'
Inside the store, Harmon Payne said, 'A dozen donuts? Cecil, you'll have diabetes time you're fifty.'
'But they're good.'
Harmon held their coffees while Cecil paid.
'So your oldest girl's going to an Ivy League school?' Cecil said.
'Wellesley.'
'Isn't that expensive?'
'Yeah, but she's a smart girl, and I want her to have the opportunities I didn't.'
'You're a good father, Harmon.'
'I try. But it's hard raising kids in this world, all the bad influences in their lives-drugs, sex, violence in the movies…'
They turned to the door. Cecil pointed.
'Shit! Look!'
Outside, Prescott and the females had pulled up on the motorcycle on the far side of the Crown Vic. The woman jumped off and disappeared from sight. But Harmon knew.
'She's flattening the tires!'
He dropped the coffees, pulled his gun, and ran outside. But Prescott and the females sped off down the road. Harmon ran to the car and looked down at the flat tire. She only got one. He sighed.
'Why won't people just accept the fact that I'm gonna kill them? Why do we have to go through this every time?'
'Maybe they don't want to die.'
'Cecil, shut up and change the tire.'
Andy drove east on Highway 290 toward Austin. They had bought some time, so he kept the Slammer at the speed limit. If a state trooper pulled him over for riding three to the bike, just as well he not be speeding, too.
Other than a few big rigs blowing past them doing eighty and blasting their horns at the girls, it was a peaceful ride. Jessie pointed up at the vultures circling over dead deer lying on the side of the highway. The deer had come out of the brush to forage for food the prior evening and tried to cross 290; they didn't make it. Bad luck for them. Good luck for the vultures.
When they arrived in Dripping Springs, Andy pulled into a Dairy Queen next to the Cattleman's National Bank. Frankie and Jessie went inside for food and drinks. Andy sat on the Slammer and tried to figure things out: How had those guys found them at the park? And at the convenience store in Henly? And would they find them again? It was as if they were simply following them on a map, as if they had planted a tracking device A tracking device?
Andy pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. They were tracking his cell phone.
He hit the speed dial for Curtis Baxter. When he answered, Andy said, 'Dude, tell me about that cell phone tracking stuff.'
'Andy, Reeves' limo stopped coming for me.'
'Zach died last night.'
'Shit.'
After a moment of silence, Andy said, 'Tracking.'
'Yeah, okay. Every phone can be tracked with either GPS or triangulation. GPS uses three satellites to plot the phone's location using a trilateration process-'
'Curtis, bottom line, as long as I have my phone, they can find me?'
'They who?'
'Long story. But that's the deal?'
'That's the deal.'
'How can I stop it?'
'Turn it off.'
'That stops them for sure?'
'Pretty sure. Some people think they can track even if the phone is off.'
'What can I do to be sure?'
'Okay. Remove the back cover of your phone, pull out the SIM card then- '
'Dude. It's Andy.'
'Hide it.'
'The phone?'
'Yeah.'
'Where?'
'Where they can't ping it.'
'Curtis, there are cell towers everywhere.'
'Yeah, but they can't reach everywhere.'
'Like where?'
'Like in the canyons.'
'Like in the greenbelt.'
Thirty minutes later, Andy drove to the Camp Craft Road entrance to the Barton Creek Greenbelt. He parked the Slammer on the road. Frankie and Jessie climbed down first.
'Stay here,' Andy said. 'I've got to hide my phone down in the canyons.'
'Why don't you just smash it with a rock?'
'I'm gonna need it.'
'When?'
'When I want them to find us.'
Andy ran down the Hill of Life and then the creek trail until he arrived at Sculpture Falls. He waded into the shallow water to where the crevices in the limestone had formed. He stashed the phone deep inside a dry crevice. No way a cell signal could get through three feet of solid rock. He ran back up to Frankie and Jessie.
'Andy,' Frankie said, 'it's going to be cold tonight and we left the sleeping bag and our blankets back at the park.'
'We can't camp out here-coyotes and bobcats roam the place at night. We can't stay at my place or with Tres and Natalie-she'd want to put Jessie on the news. We can't stay with Dave or Curtis and get them involved. We can't stay in a hotel, they can track a credit card.'
He saddled up on the Slammer.
'Let me borrow your calling card.'
She dug in her purse and pulled out the card. She handed it to him.
'I've got to find a phone. I'll be back.'
'Andy…'
'Yeah?'
'If you decide not to come back, I'll understand. This is our problem, not yours.'
'I'll be back.'
Andy rode the Slammer to a convenience store and called Dave. His buddy seemed distracted.
'Dude, quit combing your hair and listen. Don't you have a listing near the greenbelt? A foreclosed mansion?'
'Man, Russell Reeves must be paying you a fortune.'
'I'm not buying, Dave. We just need a place to stay tonight.'
'We who?'
'You don't want to know. But, Dave, it's an emergency.'
'She's hot, huh? Why don't you take her to a fancy hotel, you can afford it, Reeves' lawyer.'
'Not anymore.'
'No kidding?'
'What about that place?'
'It's a mansion overlooking the greenbelt. Vacant, they just walked away, even left the furniture. Electricity's
