CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Igot back in the car and handed Kate her coffee and the stack of local travel guides and pamphlets. “We need a place to stay, and not in Potsdam.”
“Maybe we should go to Canada and ask for asylum.”
“I’m glad you’re maintaining your sense of humor.”
“That wasn’t a joke.”
I sipped my coffee as I drove through downtown Potsdam, and Kate flipped through the printed material. I told her about my call to The Point. “Very soon, Griffith will ask the state and local police to begin a missing-persons search for us, if he hasn’t already. But I think we can keep ahead of him.”
Kate seemed not to hear me and studied the local literature. “This might be a good place to buy a house. Median house value is $66,400.”
“I’m just looking for a place to rent for the night, darling.”
“Median household income is only $30,782 a year. How much is your three-quarter tax-free disability?”
“Sweetheart, find a place to stay.”
“Okay…” She flipped through some brochures and said, “Here’s a nice-looking B and B-”
“No B and Bs.”
“It looks cute. And it looks isolated, if that’s what we’re after.”
“We are.”
“It’s on twenty-two acres of what used to be the St. Lawrence University riding stables.” She read, “‘It offers the privacy of a classic country estate.’”
“How much is this classic country estate?”
“Sixty-five dollars a night. But you can get a cottage for seventy-five.”
“That’s what we were paying at The Point for an hour.”
“Still paying.”
“Right. Which way?”
She glanced at the brochure and said, “We need to take U.S. Route 11.”
I was beginning my second circuit of downtown Potsdam and knew the place well by now. I drove to an intersection with lots of road markers, and soon we were on Route 11, heading out of town.
I said, “I knew guys on the Fugitive Squad who said that fugitives always seem to be having fun evading capture. It’s like, a real high, using your wits, being on the road-”
“I am
“Well… yeah. It’s a game. Games are fun.”
She didn’t comment on that and said, “This B and B is about ten miles from here, outside of Canton.”
“Canton is in Ohio.”
“Maybe they moved it, or maybe, John, there’s a Canton in New York.”
“We’ll see.” So we continued southwest on Route 11.
Kate was back to the chamber of commerce pamphlet. “There are a lot of colleges in the area, so the percentage of college-educated people is higher than the national average.”
“You’d freeze your college-educated butt off up here.”
“The average temperature in January is twenty-seven degrees. That’s not too bad.”
“Tell me that in January.”
“We could stay with your parents in Florida for the winter.”
“I’d rather freeze to death.” I looked at the dashboard clock, which said 11:47. I needed to call Dick Kearns as soon after noon as possible.
The road was well traveled and cut through open country, farms, and hamlets. We were definitely out of the Adirondack Mountain region and into the Great Lakes plains. Back there in God’s country, where the bears outnumbered the people and road traffic was light, Kate and I would attract attention and be remembered. Here, we blended in with the general population. As long as I kept my smart mouth shut.
The little Hyundai handled well, but I’d wanted a four-wheel drive in case we needed to crash the fence at Custer Hill at some point in time. Like tonight.
I asked Kate, “How much ammo do you have?”
She didn’t reply.
“Kate?”
“Two extra magazines in my briefcase.”
I had one magazine in my inside jacket pocket. I never carry enough ammo. Maybe if I had a briefcase or a purse, I’d carry an extra magazine. “Is there a sporting-goods store in Canton?”
Without answering, she flipped through a local guide, then said, “Here’s an ad for a sporting-goods store in Canton.”
“Good.”
We drove in silence, and within ten minutes, she said, “Turn here onto Route 68. Look for Wilma’s B and B.”
“Maybe we can open a B and B. You’ll cook and clean. I’ll shoot at the arriving guests.”
No reply.
I saw the sign for Wilma’s and pulled into a gravel drive that ran through a rolling field dotted with evergreens. Up ahead was a Cape Cod-style house with a covered porch.
I stopped the car, and we got out and stepped up to the porch. I looked back toward the highway, which was barely visible.
Kate asked me, “Okay?”
“Perfect. Looks like someplace where Bonnie and Clyde would stay.”
She rang the doorbell, and a minute later, a middle-aged gent opened the door and asked, “Can I help you?”
Kate said, “We’d like a room for the night.”
“Well, you came to the right place.”
That must be the local line. They probably said the same thing when you showed up at the hospital for an emergency appendectomy.
We went inside to a small office space in the foyer, where the proprietor, Ned, said, “You got your choice. Two rooms upstairs, or two cottages.”
I said, “We’ll take a cottage.”
He showed us two photos. “That’s Pond House-it’s on a pond. And this here’s the Field House.”
The Field House looked suspiciously like a house trailer. Kate said, “I think the Pond House. John?”
“Right.” I asked Ned, “Do you have outside phone lines in these cottages?”
He chuckled. “Sure do. Got electricity, too.”
I wanted to tell him we’d just come from a luxury resort without television or phone service, but he wouldn’t believe that.
He said, “Pond House has cable TV and VCR, and you got Internet hookup.”
“No kidding? Hey, do you have a laptop I could borrow or rent?”
“Got one you can use for free, if you get it back to me by six-thirty. That’s when the wife goes on eBay to check her auction. That woman buys junk, then she sells it back on eBay. She says she’s making money, but I don’t think so.”
If I wasn’t trying to keep a low profile, I’d tell him that she was probably fucking the UPS guy. But I just smiled.
Anyway, I paid cash for the room, which Ned appreciated, and he didn’t seem to need any ID or security deposit. He handed me his laptop, worth about a thousand bucks. I thought about asking him for a six-pack of beer while I was at it, but I didn’t want to impose on his hospitality.
Ned gave us a key to the cottage, some basic house rules, and directions to Pond House. “Just follow your nose.”
That would have put me in his kitchen, but I think he meant get in the car first.
