“Are you crazy?”
“No. They may be crazy. I’m not.”
“Daron, they can’t be serious.”
“Damn it, let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Plants?”
“Please! Move.”
I was with him. The last thing I wanted to do was spend another night in this park. The sooner we debriefed, the faster we could get out of here and spend the night in a real bed. I realized it was late. James would have been back by now, the card game would have been finished a couple of hours ago. “Were you mentioned?”
“It’s not important.”
“Were you? Did Thomas LeRoy identify you as the guy who killed Bland? The guy who took his money?”
“Yeah. He did. He said they thought I was a prime suspect. Now, would you get your girlfriend so we can get out of here?”
Em staggered to her feet, and we stumbled around the tent, for all the world looking like two drunks trying to find their way home. And we hadn’t had a drink. Not one beer.
I pulled her, hurrying her along. If someone was going to wake up and start screaming “thief,” I didn’t want to be anywhere nearby. We started jogging, and reached the far end of the tent. I stopped and took in long, painful breaths. Too many beers, not enough exercise. We caught our breath, and as we made the turn, I looked around to see if Daron was following. There was no one.
“Where’s Daron?” Em slowed down. She glanced behind us.
“Daron?” I whispered in a loud, raspy voice.
There was no sound.
“My God, Skip. Do you think they found him?”
I ducked back around the corner of the tent, and quietly walked down the length, smelling the wet, stale odor of the large, damp canvas. I struggled to see in the dark, staring hard in the direction we’d come. In the distance I could see what looked like three people. The two on the outside appeared to be walking, the person in the middle was being dragged.
CHAPTER THIRTY
F rom the time I was probably six years old, I wondered what I’d do in the case of an emergency. Would I look out for myself? Would I step into the path of a bully to save a friend? When I was a little older I wondered if I would jump in the water to save a drowning child or stand there looking in horror as the body was washed downstream. And when I got much older, especially when I started dating Em, I wondered what I would do if we were accosted in a dark alley. Would I let it happen or step up and risk having a knife shoved in my ribs?
I don’t believe too many people are ever put in that position. I was, once before, and I can tell you that every situation isn’t the same. Em appeared at my back, and the two of us watched as the three people disappeared in the dark. I looked at her, tempted to start running, trying to save Styles.
“What just happened?”
“Em, I don’t know. Somebody figured out he’d broken into the trailer?”
“And why aren’t we trying to get him back?” She threw her hands up.
“Maybe because we know that if it’s the full-timers, they have guns. Maybe it’s because we don’t know what the hell he’s gotten himself into.”
“Let’s at least see if we can see where they’re taking him.”
Of course she was right. We walked quickly, trying to catch a glimpse of them, but the dark had swallowed any sign of the three.
“They could have gone to the camper village or one of the trailers or trucks. We have no idea.”
I shook my head.
“It happened so fast. We didn’t have a chance to see what happened.” She took my hand and squeezed it again. “Skip, I’ve always wondered what I’d do in a situation like this.”
“I understand. As you said, it happened way too fast.”
“So, what do we do?”
There was only one thing to do. Find James. If Styles was in trouble, we were all in trouble. If Styles was on the computer, and we were on the computer, the situation was not good.
“We’ve got to get James.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Em questioned me.
“No.”
“No, you don’t think we should get him?”
“No. I don’t think it’s a good idea. Yes, we’ve got to find him.” As far as I was concerned there was no choice. I needed to know if he was okay.
“James and I have our differences.”
“I know, Em. I’m in the middle of many of them.”
She smiled. I could see it even in the dark. “But I’d miss him if something happened to him.”
I thought about it for a second or two. There was absolutely nothing we could do for Styles. But with any luck James had stayed late. Maybe he was still playing cards and they hadn’t done anything to him. Yet. “Let’s check the truck. The poker game should have ended about midnight. That’s when they start with the security detail.”
“What time is it?”
I strained to see my watch. “One thirty.”
James wasn’t in the truck.
“How about the card game? Maybe he stayed late? Had a couple of beers with the guys.” I motioned toward the path.
We jogged down. I was feeling a lot of guilt leaving Styles to fend for himself, but I had no idea where they’d taken him. We were both out of breath in the short run to the pizza wagon. I’d preferred the exercise we’d had earlier in the day at Em’s condo.
We slowed down as we got closer, and I noticed everything appeared to be dark. The poker table was empty. There was no sign of anyone, but a cigar still burned in an ashtray. Cigars go out if no one is puffing on them, so I guessed that someone, or a group of someones, had been there recently. Possibly they had gotten word that security had been breached. And if they knew that Daron had broken into the office and gotten into the computer, then anything was possible. They would probably know immediately that James and I were involved.
“This isn’t good.”
“So I’m asking again. Do you think James is okay?”
I rolled my eyes. “When it comes to James, I quit thinking a long time ago.”
Em sat down on the one of the folding chairs, watching the smoke from the burning tobacco rise in a perfect spiral. “Daron says that these guys think you’re working for the FBI?”
“He claimed that was in the notes on the computer.”
“And the FBI was following me?”
“Again, that’s what Daron said. I think it goes without saying that Daron can’t be trusted one hundred percent of the time.”
“But if he’s right, if the FBI was following me today, and if you worked for them — ”
“What? You’re making no sense.”
“Oh, my God. Skip. Maybe you’re working for them.”
I stepped back. Emily had lost her mind.
“Are you crazy?”
“No. I’m not. Who set this up? Who decided to take this job? Come on, Skip, who talked you into this?”
“You know who.”
“Skip. Who convinced you to stay, even when someone shot the tires out of your truck? Even when you got a note threatening your life? Who?”
