Divine Justice

'We find Oliver and help him really get away.'

'Forget it, Annabelle. We'd be leading these guys right to him,' protested Alex.

'And besides,' added Reuben, 'I'm sure Oliver had a nifty escape plan.'

'Really? No ID. No money. I gave him a credit card. I checked on it. It hasn't been used in months. He can't get on a plane. He can only run so far.'

'Before they catch him,' said Reuben quietly.

'Maybe that's what he wants,' stated Alex. The other three stared at him. 'He got Simpson and Gray. He felt terrible guilt for Milton. He may feel he has nothing else to live for. He runs, but not that hard. He knows they'll catch up to him and he's prepared for what that means.'

Annabelle said, 'I'm not going to let his life end that way.'

'Annabelle, stonewalling the CIA is one thing, but you get mixed up in actively helping Oliver elude the authorities then you're looking at prison time too. A big chunk of it.'

'I don't care, Alex. Look what he did for me. He risked everything to help me.'

'He's done that for all of us,' added Reuben.

'You wouldn't be here either, Alex,' Annabelle said, eyeing the man. 'Except for Oliver.'

Alex sat down on an old desk. 'Guys, I hear you, but I'm a federal agent. I can only go so far.'

'We don't want to get you in trouble, so you don't have to do anything,' said Annabelle, though her tone was less gracious than her words.

'Except look the other way,' added Reuben.

'How would you even go about finding him?' said Alex.

'That's for us to figure out,' said Reuben coldly. He glanced over at Caleb. 'You're a federal employee too, but are you in?'

Caleb nodded. 'I'm in.'

Alex, his features grim, rose. 'Well, I guess this is where we part company. Good luck.'

'Alex-' Annabelle began, but the door had already closed behind him.

The three remaining members of the Camel Club simply looked at each other.

'Screw him,' exclaimed Reuben. 'So how do we find Oliver?'

She gazed at him. 'The fox is on the hunt, right?'

'Right. So?'

'So we follow the fox.'

'You have a plan?'

'I always have a plan.'

'Annabelle, girl, I love you.'

CHAPTER 24

STONE WAS ABOUT TO APPROACH Danny Riker when someone else appeared from the other side of the graveyard. Stone shrank down behind the stone wall as the man stepped clear of the shadows and into the moonlight. At first, Stone thought the big fellow was going to attack Danny, so stealthy was his approach. Indeed, Stone was preparing to spring out when the other man gently touched Danny on the shoulder.

'Come on, boy, no good you being here.'

Danny looked up into the face of Sheriff Tyree, who bent down to help him up.

'Not right. Ain't right,' Danny sputtered, as he leaned against the large frame of the lawman.

'A lot in life isn't fair, Danny. But you can't let it eat you up, boy.'

'I want to die.'

Tyree slapped Danny across the face. 'Don't let me never hear you say that again, Danny. The girl's dead. Nothing you can do will bring her back.'

He pointed at the dirt. 'You call that fair?'

'You get your head on straight. She had a choice. She killed herself. This ain't doing nobody any good. Now you want me to give you a ride home?'

Danny wiped his face and shook his head. 'You're a stupid man if you think that,' he snapped.

Tyree studied him. 'You know something I don't?'

'I know lots you don't. So what? Ain't worth shit what I know.'

'I mean about Debby?'

Danny dropped his head and his defiant tone. 'No. I don't know nothing. Just talking is all. Talking and saying nothing, really.'

'You said I was stupid if I believed that. What, that she killed herself?'

'You putting words in my mouth now, Sheriff,' Danny said, his face whitening a bit.

'I just want to hear what you have to say.'

In response, Danny turned and walked off.

'Danny, you come back here.'

'Stop yelling, Sheriff, you'll wake the dead.'

'Right now, boy.'

'I'm not a boy, Tyree, in case you hadn't noticed.' Danny turned to look at him. 'And unless you want to put a bullet in my back, I'm going home.'

Tyree laid a hand on top of his pistol as Stone stooped as low as he could. He didn't want to give either man a chance to spot him.

He waited for Danny to disappear down the road and then watched as Tyree stalked back to his patrol car parked nearby and drove back toward town.

Should I just leave now? Why wait until morning?

Yet Stone walked to town and got a room at the tiny house Danny had recommended. He climbed the stairs, put his bag away and sat on the soft bed and stared out the window toward the main street of Divine.

What he'd seen at the graveyard had puzzled him. Had Danny been in love with Debby Randolph? Had she killed herself? Why had Danny left and then come back?

'It's not my problem,' Stone finally said aloud, surprising himself with the force of the words. He checked his watch. It was nearly ten o'clock. He had a small transistor radio in his bag. He pulled it out and turned it on. It took some twisting of the tuner knob, but he finally found a station that had a national news roundup program at the top of the hour. He sat back on his bed. The murders weren't the lead story, but they were a close second to another salmonella outbreak in some vegetables.

The announcer's voice seemed breathless as he recounted the latest on the high-level D.C. killings.

'The FBI and Homeland Security have combined their efforts in this investigation. The murders of Senator Roger Simpson and intelligence head Carter Gray are definitely connected and are apparently tied to events from decades ago when both men worked at the CIA. The killer is reportedly a former colleague of the two men and was believed to have died years ago. Authorities are watching all airports, train and bus stations and border crossings. We will bring you more developments as they break in what is shaping up to be the manhunt of the decade.'

Stone turned off the radio, rose and stared out the window once more. They hadn't announced the name of the killer, but they might as well have.

They know it was John Carr and they know what I look like and they have every escape route bottled up.

He had never really dwelled on his eventual capture. He even imagined that he might make it to New Orleans, start a new life and live out the rest of his years in peaceful obscurity. But that was apparently not to be. The one thing that bothered him was that everyone would believe him to be a criminal. Was revenge always wrong? Was righting an injustice outside the law never condonable? He knew the answer to those questions. He would never have the luxury of facing a judge and jury. They would never let him because then he could tell his side of the story. No, that could never be allowed.

Stone put on his jacket. He needed air. He needed to think. Could he even leave Divine now? He should call