"I'm there, man."
The two did a little knuckle smack to seal the deal.
Stone said to Abby, "How long are you staying here?"
"A few hours. Why don't you come by for dinner tonight?"
Danny said, "Hey, you two got something going on?"
"Look, Mr. Movie Star, you're not the only one with dreams," said Abby, who blushed slightly as she said this.
On the drive back to town, Stone asked Willie something that had been puzzling him.
"You said Debby called you the night before she was found dead. Where from?"
"The bakery. She was doing some work there. They liked her to come after hours. Folks coming in to get muffins and cookies don't want to smell paint. Ain't good for business."
Stone thought of the half-finished mural he'd seen on the wall there. "And the bakery is right across the street from Rory Peterson's office."
"That's right. So?"
"So he was killed too."
"But in town. And the night before. Debby was out at her folks' house."
"No. Debby's body was found the next morning. But you said she'd been dead awhile. Maybe she was killed the night before. The same night Peterson was. His body was probably found that same morning too."
"Okay, but her parents' place is a good fifteen miles from town."
"But at eleven o'clock she called you from the bakery in good spirits. Let's say Peterson was killed around then or a bit later. The mural she was painting was in front of the store, with a good view of the street and the buildings opposite."
Willie sat up straighter. "Are you saying she maybe saw who killed Peterson?"
"At the very least she might have seen someone go in his office. Then she might have gone to investigate or the killers saw her and grabbed her because she was a potential witness. They take her back to her parents' house, kill her, make it look like suicide and no one thinks to connect the two together."
"Damn," Willie said slowly. "That makes a lot of sense. We gotta tell Tyree about this."
"I plan to."
When they pulled into the front yard of Willie's home they saw Bob Coombs' truck parked there. Willie got out as the front door opened and Bob was standing there smiling and waving. Willie hurried up the steps to embrace his grandfather while Stone, who'd been following Willie, turned and walked back to the truck to grab Willie's bag.
He had just closed the truck door when the force of the explosion knocked him off his feet and slammed him facedown into the mud. As debris rained down around him, a dazed Stone lifted up his head. Where the trailer had been there was now nothing. He could see straight through the gap to the trees behind. Something large landed next to his head, smoke rising off its sizzled surface. He didn't recognize it. And one could hardly blame him.
They were the earthly remains of Willie Coombs, what little there was of him left.
Stone's head dropped back into the mud and he lay still.
CHAPTER 52
ANNABELLE AND CALEB had returned to the bus station and discovered that, somewhat ahead of the regular schedule, the same driver was just about to head out with a load of people on the route Stone had taken. Annabelle snagged a seat right behind the driver and peppered him with questions while Caleb followed in the van. A half hour into the ride Annabelle saw the 1924 Indian motorcycle with the rare left-hand sidecar pass the bus, drop back and then fall in behind the van.
She sighed with relief. Big Reuben Rhodes had arrived. They might very well need the man's muscle. She'd told Reuben to bring quite a few things with him that she'd thought they might need. She noted with satisfaction that the sidecar was filled with items.
A few hours later Annabelle climbed off the bus in the middle of a curvy road bracketed by a mountain on one side and a typical sheer drop on the other. This was where Stone and his friend had gotten off, the driver told her.
Before she left the man had added, " Lot of interest in those two. What's going on?"
"Can't talk about it. National security."
"National security, huh? They looked like a couple of bums."
"If you were on the run from the feds, what would you dress like?"
"I guess I see your point."
"And you're sure you don't remember anything they said about where they were actually going?"
"Kid just got up and told me to drop him off here. The older guy got off with him." He paused. "The kid was wearing a varsity jacket. You know, for sports."
"Did you get the name of the school? College? High school?"
"Didn't pay that close of attention."
Annabelle held up a sheet of paper where'd she taken notes during her conversation with the driver. "And these are the towns nearby? All of them? You're sure?"
"Lady, there ain't that many of them. That's it. Happy searching."
He closed the door and the bus pulled away.
Annabelle met up with Caleb and Reuben and filled them in on what she'd learned. "Knox is doing exactly what we are, only he has a head start," she said.
"Yeah, but there are three of us," Reuben said. "We can split up. I'll take two of the four places and you guys hit the others."
"Good idea," said Caleb.
"And you brought everything I told you to?" asked Annabelle.
"Yeah, but I feel like I'm running a damn Hollywood prop department."
"You just never know when something might come in handy. We can load it in the van." After they were done she looked at the sheet. "Caleb and I will do Mize and Tazburg. Reuben, you can hit South Ridge and Divine." She pulled maps from her bag and handed them to Reuben. "I got these from the bus station. The towns look to be anywhere from two to three hours apart. They're not far as the crows fly, but all the roads are back roads and switch backs with chunks of mountain in between."
"Winding roads. Perfect cruising turf for the Indian," Reuben said, affectionately patting the motorcycle's gas tank.
"They just make me queasy," said Caleb. "Not that I'm complaining," he quickly added as Annabelle shot him a look.
"We'll keep in touch via cell phone. Whoever finds something positive, we can hook up within a few hours." She handed a photo to Reuben. "This is a picture of Knox, just in case you run into him."
"Thanks," said Reuben as he climbed on his bike and put his helmet and old-fashioned goggles back on.
"What if we find Oliver at the same time that Knox does?" asked Caleb.
"Then we persuade him to let Oliver go with us," Reuben said.
"He's not going to do that, Reuben."
"He will if we're really persuasive."
"We can't take out a fed," Caleb said. "Even new testosterone Caleb draws the line at that."
"Caleb," Annabelle said, "let's worry about that only if we have to. Right now, all I want is to find Oliver. And the longer we stand around here the better the chances are that Knox will find him first."
Reuben kick-started the Indian and the engine roared to life. He gave them a little salute, glanced at one of the maps and took off heading east.
Annabelle started to climb in the driver's seat of the van but Caleb stopped her. "I'll drive," he said, hopping in and putting the keys in the ignition.
"Why?"
"You don't know how to handle curves. Too herky-jerky. That's why I was feeling sick."
"Really? What if the time comes where we need to drive really fast, Caleb?"
"Get in!"
"What?"
Caleb fired up the van and Annabelle had to hustle around and jump in before he roared off. He accelerated so fast she tumbled into the backseat.
"What the hell are you doing?" she cried out as she struggled back up.
"When the time comes, I'm your wheelman."
She managed to clamber into the front seat and quickly buckled up as he took one curve and then the next at almost sixty miles an hour. When she glanced over she noted how professionally he was maneuvering the steering wheel and then realized how smoothly the bulky van, which was clearly not designed for this sort of terrain, was handling the road.