Faster and faster he ran, the trees and bushes blurring as they whooshed past. Tyler ducked and weaved and jumped over fallen obstacles as his mind raced in many directions at once. Amongst those fleeting thoughts was his recollection of the time he’d suspected Spalding had possibly been here at Tyler’s house before. Lurking in the woods and watching him
If he had been here, what had he seen? Had anyone else been here with Tyler at the time? How many times had Spalding been here? The idea of getting some German Shepherds came as it had in the past, but he didn’t dwell on it.
Instead his mind moved to the overall plan. What was Spalding up to? What was his end game; the thing he hoped above all else to achieve in what he was doing? Many times, Tyler had lain awake thinking this same thing and though he’d come up with a hundred different ideas none of them seemed right. Was it simply a game to him?
Danny Kercheck’s grinning face came back to Tyler’s mind as he reached the narrow point of the river and thundered across the old rope bridge that ran from his land and onto State Forest. How completely hooked in Danny had been. It was like Spalding was his personal God and it was laughable for anyone to think they might be able to get the better of the serial killer.
Sarah could have died at the hands of ‘John the Baptist’ because of Danny’s frenzied loyalty to Spalding, but this only raised more questions. Did Spalding want Sarah killed back then? If so, did that make Tyler his plaything and not Sarah? Tyler didn’t think so; he felt Sarah was the key to Spalding’s plans. In what way was the mystery.
On and on Tyler ran. He did his best to clear his mind but it was hard. He topped a small rise where through a gap in the trees he was able to make out his own house. This always made him happy and he stopped a moment to take in the view. He’d been lucky to find this place, and luckier still to have inherited his parents' remaining money to be able to buy the house and land outright. The fact the neighbouring land was State Forest meant no one was ever going to be building and he would be able to live in seclusion for as long as he liked.
The news of his parent's death flashed in memory now, the call from the police at his door in Ellicott City where he’d lived at the time. The car had been a complete wreck. His mother died instantly and his father died a few days later in hospital having never recovered consciousness after the crash. He’d been drinking and probably lost control of the car. It had never been concluded if another car may have been involved or not.
By that time, Tyler and his parents had drifted apart. There had never been any great arguments and he’d been a good kid in school and then going to college but there was never anything close between them and Tyler’s guess was that none of them ever really understood why.
A jackdaw cawed on the air, calling for its mate perhaps and took his concentration back to the present. He looked down on his home again and wondered if Dwight Spading stood in this same spot in the last year. It seemed likely. It was part of his game to know where the players lived. How much did he know about Tyler, though, that was the key question.
Tyler’s work made him travel under the radar a lot, and he was sure not even Spalding, with his seemingly herculean intelligence gathering skills, could have kept track of him for very long at all. Still, it was something to keep in mind. Perhaps he should also scrutinise his own contacts and informants more thoroughly the next time he spoke to them. If Danny Kercheck could have been part of Spalding’s world, Tyler supposed anyone could have been.
He needed to be more guarded from now on. There were too many unknowns for comfort.
Chapter 17
CARSON LEMOND HAD BEEN keeping up with the newspapers and the TV reports of the efforts to find him. He’d been happy when the lead was way off but at the same time, he’d never felt under so much pressure in his life. He didn’t see a way out of this. Leaving the country was the only possibility but he had no idea about how to go about this without being caught. Canada was the most obvious location, but even there felt too close to home. South America or Europe would have to be the ultimate aim. It didn’t matter where so long as it was away from good ol’ Uncle Sam.
In the meantime, he would just have to ride things out as best he could, live off his wits. Every street corner was another terror, every police car or flashing light drew his eye—had they finally tracked him down. It was both frustrating and terribly upsetting. Carson couldn't even move in his old circles for fear the mob hitmen (who he was sure were looking for him too) would get wind of it.
Washington D.C wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be, but few people knew him here and it had done so far. Now he was meeting up with an old friend, Buddy Collins, in the hopes of making life easier. Carson just hoped Buddy was still the kind of friend you could reply on. They hadn’t seen one another in a few years but when Carson called Buddy at his workplace, he seemed pleased to hear from him.
As Carson waited in the dreary coffee shop on the even more dreary evening, his paranoia began to get the better of him. Of course the FBI or the police would have spoken to any
