To his surprise, Sharon's eyes reflected a degree of uncertainty. "I-I didn't say that," she said. "But I certainly think you ought to talk to him. I'm willing to listen to his side of the story, and then we can decide what to do. But if what Linda and Robb say is true, certainly something has to be done about him."
Kennallyreluctantly nodded. He liked JeffLaConner – always had. It was a shame to have to pick him up tonight. Saturday, after all, was a game day, and without Jeff playing…
Still,Kennally had no choice. Letting himself into the small office adjoining the waiting room, he first called ChuckLaConner, who told him that Jeff wasn't home yet. Briefly,Kennally told Chuck what had happened and heardLaConner curse softly.
"How's the Tanner boy?" Chuck asked a moment later.
"Don't know yet,"Kennally replied. "MacCallum'sstill working on him." His voice dropped and he turned away from the window to the waiting room. "If I were you, Chuck, I'd get down here pretty fast. Mrs. Tanner's mighty upset, if you know what I mean."
There was only the slightest pause before ChuckLaConner replied that he'd be at the hospital within minutes.
NextKennally called the police department, and when Wes Jenkins answered, filled him in on what had happened. "Call some of the boys," he said. "We're going to have to go out looking for him."
"Any idea where he might have gone?" Jenkins asked.
"Not really. But it shouldn't be too hard to track him. We know which way he headed after the fight."Kennally finished issuing his instructions to the night sergeant, then left the hospital. But he drove only a few blocks before pulling into a deserted parking lot illuminated by the soft glow of a phone booth in one of its corners. Stepping into the booth, he dialed the department number once again.
"Wes? Me again. One more thing-tell the boys that if they get hold of JeffLaConner, I want him taken out to Ames at the sports center."
"Ames?" Jenkins replied. "How come? TheLaConner kid sick?"
Kennallyhesitated. "Dunno," he said finally. "But I just have a feeling, okay? I'mgonna call Ames right now, and if there's any change, I'll let you know."
He hung up, then fumbled in the inside pocket of his jacket for the small book of unlisted phone numbers he always carried with him, on duty or off. Flipping through it, he squinted at a number, then dropped another quarter in the phone. A sleepy voice answered on the sixth ring.
"Yeah?"
"Dr. Ames? It's DickKennally. From the police department. Sorry to have to call you so late."
Instantly, all vestiges of sleep drained out of the doctor's voice. "What is it?" he asked. "Has something happened?"
Kennallytalked steadily for five minutes, even consulting his notebook to be sure he'd forgotten none of the details. "I've already told Jenkins to bring theLaConner boy out there if we find him. I can change that, if you think it's best."
"No," Ames said immediately. "You did the right thing. I'll get a team ready to admit him, and keep me posted. And Dick?" he added.
"Yeah?"
"Be careful," Ames told him. "From what you said, it sounds like Randy Stevens all over again. And if it is, JeffLaConner should be considered very dangerous."
Kennallywas silent for a moment, then grunted and hung up.
Did Ames really think he was telling him anything he didn't already know?
Even now, nearly a year after it had happened, he could still remember the night Randy Stevens cracked up. It had been a quiet night in Silverdale, at least until around eleven o'clock, whenKennally had gotten a call from theStevenses ' neighbors, reporting a disturbance. It had struckKennally as odd, since in the two years theStevenses had been in Silverdale they had never been anything less than model citizens. Randy, indeed, had been the boy other Silverdale parents always pointed to as a role model for their own children. Handsome, polite, an A student-Randy had been the star of the football team as well.
And never caused so much as a hint of a problem for either his parents or anyone else.
But that night something had snapped in Randy, and whenKennally arrived at theStevenses, a small crowd of frightened onlookers had already gathered around the house.
Inside the house it was apparent that a major fight was taking place.
WhenKennally forced his way in, he found Phyllis Stevens, her face bleeding, sobbing on the sofa in the living room. In the den, Tom Stevens and Randy were struggling on the floor.
Except that it wasn't really a struggle, for Tom was sprawled on his back, doing his best to fend off a rain of furious blows as his son straddled him, pounding at him mercilessly.
Kennallyhad known instantly that this was no simple fight, no argument between father and son that had gotten out of hand. For there was a look in Randy's eyes-a cold emptiness-that toldKennally that Randy wasn't even aware of what he was doing.
His mind was gone and he was simply lashing out at whomever was at hand.
It had taken three men to subdue the boy, and he was finally taken away from the house strapped to a stretcher. At TomStevens's request, Randy had been taken to the sports center and put under the care of Marty Ames.
The next morning Randy was transferred to the mental hospital at Canon City.
Though such a thing had never happened before in Silverdale, Marty Ames had explained that it wasn't all that uncommon. Randy, after all, had always been too perfect, meeting his parents' every expectation. But along with those expectations there had been pressure, and Randy never allowed himself to vent that pressure. And so, finally, he turned on his parents, his emotional structure collapsing in a shambles.
He had tried to kill them.
He had almost succeeded.
And now, tonight,Kennally could see the parallels between Randy Stevens and JeffLaConner quite clearly.
Overachievers, both of them.
Neither of them ever in any trouble, neither of them ever showing signs of problems.
When Randy had finally blown, he'd come close to killing his own father.
Would Jeff have actually killed Mark Tanner tonight?Kennally didn't know, but he suspected he might well have done exactly that, given the chance.
So he would, indeed, take Ames's advice, and consider JeffLaConner extremely dangerous.
It promised to be a long night.
MacMacCallum smiled encouragingly at Mark Tanner, who was lying on his back on the examining table. The boy's chest was heavily taped, but Mac had assured him that none of his ribs was actually broken. Four of them, however, were cracked, andMacCallum had warned him that they would hurt for a while, especially if he laughed, coughed, or sneezed. Now he was working on Mark's face, carefully stitching up the cut over his right eye. "Only a couple more stitches and we'll have it," he said. "How're you holding up?"
Mark winced as the needle penetrated his skin once again. "Okay," he said between his clenched teeth. "Next to Jeff, this is a piece of cake."
Mac said nothing more until he'd taken the last stitch, tied off the thread with a neat surgeon's knot, then covered the stitches with a bandage. Mark started to try to raise himself to a sitting position, butMacCallum stopped him.
"Just lie there. I want to take some more X rays."
"How come?" Mark asked. "Nothing's broken, is it?"
"Not that I can see from the outside,"MacCallum agreed. "But judging by what happened to your face and your ribs, it seems a good idea to take a look." In fact,MacCallum was almost certain the boy's jaw had sustained a hairline fracture, and there was still a strong possibility of internal injuries, particularly to the boy's kidneys and spleen. He washed his hands, then picked up Mark's chart and began writing instructions on it. When he was done, he handed the chart to the night-duty nurse, Karen Akers. "Can you handle all that?"
Karen glanced quickly down the chart, then nodded. Disappearing into the corridor, she returned a moment later, wheeling a gurney in front of her. Holding it steady next to the examining table, she helped Mark transfer himself. Mark winced at almost every motion, but when he'd finally made it, he forced himself to grin at the nurse. "See? Nothing to it. I could run a ten-K if I had to."