'How is she?'
'Fine. Thanks for asking.'
'She's so cute.'
'You need to forget about her.' Keith mumbled a few awkward phrases into the phone and then slapped it shut. He drove quickly through the deserted streets of central Topeka. 'So, Travis, we're planning on this long drive down to Texas, where you face the authorities and tell the truth and try to stop this execution. And I'm assuming at some point very soon, you'll be expected to lead the authorities to Nicole's body. All this, of course, will lead to your arrest and being thrown in jail in Texas. They'll charge you with all sorts of crimes and you'll never get out. Is that the plan, Travis? Are we on the same page?'
The tic. The pause. 'Yes, Pastor, we're on the same page. It doesn't matter. I'll be dead before they can get me properly indicted by the grand jury.'
'I didn't want to say that.'
'You don't have to. We know it, but I prefer that nobody in Texas knows about my tumor. It's only fitting that they get the satisfaction of prosecuting me. I deserve it. I'm at peace, Pastor.'
'At peace with whom?'
'Myself. After I see Nicole again, and tell her I'm sorry, then I'll be ready for anything, including death.'
Keith drove on in silence. He was facing a marathon trip with this guy, virtually shoulder to shoulder for the next ten, maybe twelve hours, and he hoped he wouldn't be as crazy as Boyette by the time they arrived in Slone.
He parked in the driveway, behind the Accord, and said, 'Travis, I'm assuming you have no money, no clothes, nothing.' This seemed painfully obvious.
Travis chuckled, raised his hands, and said, 'Here I am, Pastor, with all my worldly assets.'
'That's what I thought. Wait here. I'll be back in five minutes.' Keith left the engine running and hurried into his house. – Dana was in the kitchen, throwing together sandwiches and chips and fruit and anything else she could find. 'Where is he?' she demanded as soon as Keith walked through the door.
'In the car. He's not coming in.'
'Keith, you can't be serious about this.'
'What are the choices, Dana?' He'd made his decision, as unsettling as it was. He was prepared for a nasty fight with his wife, and he was willing to take the risks that his journey might entail. 'We can't sit here and do nothing when we know the real killer. He's out there in the car.'
She wrapped a sandwich and stuffed it into a small box. Keith took a folded grocery bag from the pantry and went into their bedroom. For his new pal Travis, he found an old pair of khakis, a couple of T-shirts, socks, underwear, and a Packers sweatshirt that no one had ever worn. He changed shirts, put on his clerical collar and a navy sport coat, and then packed a few things of his own in a gym bag. Minutes later, he was back in the kitchen, where Dana was leaning against the sink, arms locked defiantly across her chest.
'This is a huge mistake,' she announced.
'Maybe so. I didn't volunteer for this. Boyette chose us.'
'Us?'
'Okay, he chose me. He has no other means of getting to Texas, or so he says. I believe him.'
She rolled her eyes. Keith glanced at the clock on the microwave. He was anxious to take off, but he also realized that his wife was entitled to a few parting shots.
'How can you believe anything he says?' she demanded.
'We've had this conversation, Dana.'
'What if you get arrested down there?'
'For what? Trying to stop an execution. I doubt that's a crime, even in Texas.'
'You're helping a man jump parole, right?'
'Right, in Kansas. They can't arrest me for it in Texas.'
'But you're not sure.'
'Look, Dana, I'm not going to get arrested in Texas. I promise. I might get shot, but not arrested.'
'Are you trying to be funny?'
'No. No one's laughing. Come on, Dana, look at the big picture. I think Boyette killed this girl in 1998. I think he hid her body and knows where it is. And I think there's a chance for a miracle, if we can get down there.'
'I think you're crazy.'
'Maybe, but I'd rather take a chance.'
'Look at the risk, Keith.'
He had inched closer and now put his hands on her shoulders. She was rigid, her arms still crossed. 'Look, Dana, I've never taken a chance in my life.'
'I know. This is your big moment, isn't it?'
'No, this is not about me. Once we get there, I'm staying in the shadows, keeping a low profile-'
'Dodging bullets.'
'Whatever. I'll be in the background. It's the Travis Boyette show. I'm just his driver.'
'Driver? You're a minister with a family.'
'And I'll be back by Saturday. I'll preach on Sunday, and we'll have a picnic that afternoon. I promise.'
Her shoulders sagged, and her arms fell to her sides. He squeezed her fiercely and then kissed her. 'Please try to understand,' he said.
She nodded gamely and said, 'Okay.'
'I love you.'
'I love you. Please be careful.' – Robbie's midnight wake-up call came at 12:30. He'd been in bed with DeDe for less than an hour when the phone erupted. DeDe, who'd gone to sleep without the aid of alcohol, jumped first and said, 'Hello.' Then she handed the phone to her mate, who was fogged in and trying to open his eyes.
'Who is it?' he growled.
'Wake up, Robbie, it's Fred. Got some interesting stuff here.'
Robbie managed to rouse himself, at least to the next level. 'What is it, Fred?' DeDe was already flipping to the other side. Robbie smiled at her fine rear end under the satin sheets.
Fred said, 'Had another drink with Joey. Took him to a strip club. Second night in a row, you know. Not sure my liver can take much more of this project. I'm sure his cannot. Anyway, got the boy drunk as a pissant, and he finally admitted everything. Said he lied about seeing the green van, lied about the black person driving the damned thing, lied about everything. Admitted he was the one who called Kerber with the fake tip about Donte and the girl. It was beautiful. He was crying and carrying on, just a big blubbering fat boy knocking back beers and talking trash to the strippers. Said he and Donte were once good buddies, back in the ninth and tenth grades when they were football stars. Said he always thought the prosecutors and judges would figure things out. Can't believe it's come down to this. He's always thought the execution would never happen, thought Donte would one day get out of prison. Now he's finally convinced that they're gonna kill him, so he's all tore up about it. Thinks it's his fault. I assured him that it is. The blood will be on his hands. I really beat him up. It was wonderful.'
Robbie was in the kitchen looking for water. 'This is great, Fred,' he said.
'It is, and it's not. He refuses to sign an affidavit.'
'What!'
'Won't do it. We left the strip club and went to a coffeehouse. I begged him to sign an affidavit, but it's like talking to a tree.'
'Why not?'
'His momma, Robbie, his momma and his family. He can't stomach the idea of admitting that he's a liar. He's got a lot of friends in Slone, and so on. I did everything I could possibly do, but the boy is not willing to sign on.'
Robbie downed a glass of tap water and wiped his mouth with a sleeve. 'Did you tape it?'
'Of course. I've listened to the tape once, about to go through it again. There's a lot of background noise-you ever been to a strip club?'
'Don't ask.'
'Really loud music, a lotta rap shit and stuff like that. But his voice is there. You can understand what he's saying. We'll need to enhance it.'
