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“Probably nothing.” But he pocketed it anyway. “What kind of car does Jerry drive?” he asked her.

“ ‘Fifty-seven Impala. Dark blue, tuck-and-roll upholstery.”

“Easy to spot.”

“Yes. Why would he go driving around?”

Not thinking straight. Running scared. Or maybe he had unfinished business somewhere. “Last time you saw him was when?”

“Yesterday afternoon. About five.”

“He was holed up here since Friday night?”

“Yes.”

“Where was he all that day? Why didn’t he go home when he was supposed to?”

Her glazed eyes shifted away from his. “I don’t know.”

“Sure you do. Last night you said you couldn’t tell me. That was last night; this is today. Where was he on Friday?”

“It… doesn’t have anything to do with what happened to Manuel. Or the fires or any of that.”

“Where was he, Sandra?”

She chewed her lip, making up her mind whether or not to answer. “He… oh, all right. He was in Lost Bar.”

“Where’s that?”

“Mountains up by Weaverville.”

“Doing what?”

“Buying some grass. There’s a guy has a pot farm up there.”

“How big a buy?”

“You won’t tell anybody about this, will you?”

“Not if I don’t have to. Answer the question. How big a buy?”

“Half a kilo.”

“For resale?”

“No! Just for, you know, me and a few friends.”

“Where did he get the money?”

“Saved some from his job. And I gave him some.”

“Anybody else?”

“Uh… Bob Varley.”

“Who’s he?”

“Just a guy Jerry hangs out with. He works at the Gasco station out by the freeway.”

“Big kid, red hair, not too bright?”

“Yeah, that’s Bob.”

“The owner of this pot farm-what’s his name?”

“Gus something. Funny last name. German, I think.”

“How well does Jerry know him?”

“Just to buy grass from, that’s all.”

“How much grass? How often?”

“Every few months, whenever we run out.” She ran her tongue over her lips again. “We’re not druggies,” she said defensively. “We don’t get high that often, just sometimes on weekends, you know?”

“You’re stoned now,” Runyon said.

“Oh God, I couldn’t help it. I’m so scared… I needed something… You won’t tell anybody?”

“Show me where Jerry had his car hidden.”

She led him back into the woods along the creek bank. The dry grass was mashed down in there in parallel tracks. Manzanita and scrub grew thickly, some of the branches and smaller bushes twisted and broken. Runyon prowled the area, hunting for foreign objects. All he found was a couple of rusted tin cans and a scatter of used condoms.

He asked, “Did you come out here with him on Friday night?”

“No.”

“But you saw him that night. Where? What time?”

“At my house-my folks were out. After ten, after he got back from Lost Bar.”

“Why was he so late getting back?”

“He had some trouble up there.”

“What kind of kind of trouble? With Gus?”

“No, something with his car. He had to get it fixed at the garage.”

Runyon asked, “Why did he go to you instead of home?”

“We were supposed to meet at five and he knew I’d be worried.”

“So were his parents. He could’ve called them. Or you.”

“He doesn’t have a cell. He doesn’t like to talk on the phone.”

“But it was all right that his parents were worried.”

“I don’t know, I guess he just didn’t think…”

“You tell him what happened at the farm?”

She nodded. “If he’d got to my house five minutes earlier, Kelso would’ve caught him.”

“Is that how you found out, from Kelso?”

“Yeah. He came around looking for Jerry. Made it real plain he thought Jerry was guilty.”

“So Jerry panicked and decided to hide out here. For how long?”

“He wasn’t thinking that far ahead. He just didn’t want to be arrested for something he didn’t do. And this was the only place he could think of where nobody’d think to look-” She broke off, her body stiffening, her head craned forward. “Shit! Somebody’s coming!”

Runyon heard the engine sound. Through the rows of fruit trees he had glimpses of the car barreling down the side road at a high rate of speed. Sunlight glinted off the row of unlit flashers across its roof as it swerved in toward the camp, outlined the sheriff’s department insignia on the side door.

“Kelso, it’s Kelso!” The girl clutched at Runyon’s arm; her nails were as sharp as claws. “What’re we going to do?”

“Nothing. You just be quiet, let me do the talking.”

“But he-”

“Quiet, I said.”

He took her arm, steered her back into the camp. The cruiser bucked to a stop behind Runyon’s Ford. Kelso was alone; he came out fast, unsheathing his weapon, moving ahead with it in his hand. Big, tough, his face flushed, his stride hard as if he were stomping something with each step. A cowboy, all right. Runyon stopped himself and Sandra next to one of the shacks, let Kelso come to them.

“What the devil are you doing here, Runyon?”

“Same thing you are. Looking for Jerry Belsize.”

“Is that so? Where is he?”

“Gone.”

“Gone? Gone where?” Then, to the girl, “Where is he, Sandy?”

She was coming down off her high; she stood tense and frightened. “I don’t know. I swear I don’t.”

“But you knew he was here. Knew it when I talked to you Friday night.”

“No-”

“Yes, by God.” Kelso made another visual sweep of the area, then jammed his weapon back into its holster. His fury was a tangible thing; you could see it in the play of muscles in his face, the blade-edge cords in his neck. “You, Runyon. How’d you know to come out here?”

“Sandra asked me to come.”

“Oh, she did? What for?”

“Talk to Jerry, try to convince him to come in voluntarily.”

Kelso didn’t like that. “Why you?”

“Look at her. She’s terrified of you.”

“She has good reason to be, harboring a fugitive.”

“That’s not exactly right,” Runyon said mildly. “Belsize isn’t a fugitive; he’s only wanted for questioning. Unless some new evidence has turned up to change his status.”

Kelso didn’t respond. He glared at the girl. “You shouldn’t have lied to me,” he said.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kelso, honest, but Jerry didn’t set those fires, he didn’t kill anybody, he-”

“He’s guilty as sin.”

Runyon said, “Either way, guilty or innocent, he’s just as afraid of you as she is.”

“What do you know about it? You don’t know squat.”

“If you say so.”

“I say so. You should’ve reported it when the girl told you about this place. Did your duty instead of hotfooting it out here, sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

“Maybe so.”

“No maybes about it. I ought to report you for withholding information in a criminal case.”

“Go ahead. But I told you why I came. If Jerry hadn’t listened to me, I’d’ve taken him to Rinniak anyway.”

“That’s what you say.”

“It’s the truth. Ask Sandra.”

“That’s right,” she said. “He told me that before he-”

“Shut up, girl. You speak when you’re spoken to. I haven’t made up my mind what I’m going to do about you yet.”

Runyon said, “Can I ask you a question, Deputy?”

“I don’t have to answer questions from you.”

“How’d you know to come out here?”

There was a heavy silence before the deputy said, clipping the words, “Anonymous phone call.”

Sandra sucked in her breath. “Oh God. Was it a man or a woman?”

“What difference does that make?”

“It’s a reasonable question,” Runyon said.

“Disguised voice, not that it’s any more your business than hers.”

He returned the deputy’s hard stare without blinking. Before long the stare moved back to the girl. She shrank under it, looking down and away. The acrid marijuana fumes had dissipated, but her eyes still had the glaze. Kelso didn’t seem to notice. Too wrapped up in his anger and frustration.