While Sam was trying to explain how much cooler a helicopter was, Katie met Sherlock.
Sherlock took her hands and just held them in hers. “Thank you so very much for saving Sam.”
“It was my pleasure. However, Mrs. Savich-”
“No, just call me Sherlock, everyone does.”
“I’m the one responsible for your husband being hurt. If I hadn’t run toward that van-”
“No, no, that’s quite enough. I’ll admit I was angry at first, but then Dillon told me how you saved Sam not once but twice, by shooting Beau when it was crunch time. So we can stand here and thank each other or we can get on with things.”
Katie looked at each of them in turn. “There’s something I’ve got to tell you two you may not know yet.”
Every eye went to her.
“Clancy wasn’t in the van. He got out before it blew. We’ve got a manhunt going on. If he’s anywhere near here, we’ll get him.”
Savich said, “Do you have dogs, Sheriff?”
“Yes, Bud Dicker has four hunting dogs. They’ve been out since about six o’clock this morning. No word yet.”
Sherlock said, frowning, “I can’t imagine he’d stay in the area unless he was badly hurt. Okay, Katie, I can see you know something more. Come on, cough it up.”
“It isn’t all that much just yet. I know you’ve all probably wondered by now why Beau and Clancy brought Sam here, to Jessborough, Tennessee, and held him in Bleaker’s old cabin. Was his kidnapping connected to someone local? Or was it all just happenstance, as in there was this cabin, and Clancy and Beau knew about it, and just used it?”
Savich sighed, recognizing an excellent performance when he saw it, and didn’t say anything.
Katie said, “Miles, do you know anyone local? Anyone at all?”
“No, I don’t. Like I told you last night, I’ve never been in this part of Tennessee before in my life.”
“Okay, so I thought the next step was to connect up Beau and Clancy to a local. It was no big shock to find out that neither of them came from around here, and so, no convenient relatives popped up. But they were both lifelong criminals, in and out of prison, and I just knew to my bones that’s the answer. Clancy or Beau met someone in prison and that someone is from around here or has friends or relatives here. I found out from NCIC that Beau was at Ossining, so I gave them a call to see if they’d ever had a Clancy in their fine facility.
“Ossining got back to me just a little while ago, and sure enough, Clancy Edens had enjoyed their hospitality until about eight months ago-conspiracy to commit kidnapping. It turns out one of the kidnappers got cold feet and ratted out his friends.
“They faxed me his photo, and he’s our boy. I had copies Xeroxed and plastered all over town. Problem is, I just haven’t found any connection between Clancy Edens and someone local.”
Savich smiled. “You’ve got a good brain, Katie. No reason to wait. Sherlock, hand me MAX. Let me see what he can find out.”
Once the modem was plugged in, Savich booted up MAX. While they waited, Miles told Katie about MAX, sometimes known as MAXINE, the laptop he used to access the data-mining software he’d worked on for years. “Bottom line is that either MAX or MAXINE could probably find out what kind of deodorant the president smears in his armpits if it’s on a database somewhere. He’s even better with computers than I am,” Miles added, “and that bums me, it really does.”
“Be quiet, Miles,” Savich said, not looking up. “You can do everything else better. I wouldn’t know a night guidance system from a bowling ball.”
Sherlock said, “I remember you took Dillon down to the mat a couple of weeks ago.”
Savich looked up. “That was an accident, Sherlock. I must have been dehydrated or something.”
Katie smiled as she said, “Sam, I can see you’re fretting. I don’t want you to worry about Fatso. We’ll get him, no doubt in my mind. We’ve got his photo nailed up everywhere and special flyers are being printed up as I speak. But do you know what? Your uncle Dillon is going to find out why they brought you here real soon.”
“He’s got a big stomach, Uncle Dillon,” Sam said as he settled in on his father’s lap.
“I know, Sam,” Katie said. “His belly nearly fills up the photo we’ve got out there.”
Miles said, “Keely, this is the only chair. You want to climb up here, too?”
Keely didn’t hesitate to climb up on his other leg. Miles said, “They’re still so excited they can’t think straight or talk about anything else. Okay, kiddos, just lean on me and listen for a while, okay?”
Sherlock said, “Sam, I meant to tell you, you look cool. I really like those jeans and your Titans sweatshirt. I wonder what all your Redskins friends are going to say when they see it. Are those Nikes I see on your big feet?”
Katie said as Sam preened, “Mary Lynn Rector-believe it or not her father’s the local Presbyterian minister-brought them over about seven o’clock this morning. She’d heard Sam didn’t have anything except my sweats, said it was Sunday and even Kmart didn’t open until ten. As for Miles, at least his clothes are clean, no new ones yet for him.”
Sam said against his father’s chest, “I’m cool.”
Keely looked at her mother, frowned, and stuck her thumb in her mouth, something Katie hadn’t seen her do in at least six months. On the other hand, Keely hadn’t seen a van blow up or a man shot not ten feet away from her in the last six months either. She would have to ask Dr. Sheila Raines what do to about this. Sheila, a childhood friend, was the only shrink in the area that Katie trusted. She moved to stand beside her daughter when Sherlock said, “Mr. Maitland wanted the other FBI guys to fly here with me, you know, the ones working with us, Miles, but I convinced him to let me come out right away. But I wouldn’t be surprised if Butch Ashburn showed up here today. He’s a bulldog, Katie.”
“Is he like Glen Hodges?”
“More so,” Savich said, still not looking up. “I can just hear her now, Katie, telling Maitland that she’d get things all cleaned up herself, no reason to load the helicopter down with unnecessary personnel.”
At that moment, Glen Hodges and two other agents stuck their heads in the door. Two of them had huge grins on their faces, the third looked really down. “We knew you’d be here, Sherlock. Hot-diggity, I just won fifty bucks off Jessie here. The poor stiff said you wouldn’t show up until two o’clock this afternoon.” There was a boo and hiss from Jessie.
“Well, of course I’m here,” Sherlock said to Glen Hodges. “Where else would I be?”
“Jessie here,” Savich said to his wife, “just didn’t realize that you were perfectly capable of moving a mountain or two to get what you wanted.”
There was a bit of laughter, then Agent Hodges said, “Sheriff, Mother’s Very Best is just excellent. You wouldn’t believe the breakfast she gave us. You’re not looking too bad, Savich. The sheriff said you’d just be sore for a week or two. I see you’re working on MAX.” He eyed Sam and Keely, then said, “Do you still want to belt me, Sheriff?”
“Agent Hodges,” Katie said to the rest of the group, “didn’t bother telling me about Clancy not being in the van, just took charge himself. The proverbial Fed with big wing tips.”
Sherlock said, “Are you serious, Katie? You’re telling me that Glen didn’t call you immediately when they found out Clancy wasn’t in that van?”
“Well, yeah, I did call her just a bit later.”
“Actually, I was the one who called Wade. Nobody called me.”
“Do you want me to belt him for you, Sheriff?” Sherlock was standing nearly en pointe.
Katie knew Sherlock was thinking Hodges was a sexist jerk, and maybe he was. In the short term, it really hadn’t mattered, but she was the sheriff of Jessborough, and yeah, she was still low-level pissed at him. “I’ll deal with him, Sherlock, thanks just the same.”