Lovecraft looked into the back and saw that Glory’s sweater had shifted. Her bound hands would have been clearly visible in the light.
“Can you see what he’s doin’ back there?”
“I’m afraid we are too far. And the shade is down. But from the presence of the wires leading from the telephone poles toward the station, I would conclude it has a telephone.”
“Damn, HP! He saw Glory all hog-tied. I told you to cover her up.”
“I’m afraid she must have moved in her sleep. I’m sorry.”
“We’d best be on our way, dammit.” Howard hit the gas and sped up to return to Highway 70. “Dammit, dammit. Maybe a half hour, maybe forty-five minutes before the state troopers pull us over and lock us up on a kidnapping charge.”
“Don’t worry yourself,” said Lovecraft. “We’ll simply untie her and have her tell the officers that the boy was mistaken. Perhaps in his semiconscious state he only imagined her bound.”
Howard took a gulp of Coke and winced at the sweetness. He spat a mouthful out of the window, then resigned himself to drinking the next one. “Boy, it’s times like this that I really need my Dr Pepper. You better wake her up. Let her know what’s going on.”
Lovecraft turned and tried to rouse Glory. He tapped her shoulder, then shook her gently, but got no response. “Glory,” he said. “Glory.” But she was so fast asleep that even his next, rougher, shake of her shoulder was unsuccessful.
“What’s wrong?” said Howard.
Lovecraft twisted around and shined the flashlight in Glory’s face.
He reached and lifted an eyelid, and there was still no response. “I believe she’s in some sort of profound sleep.”
“You think she’s possessed again?”
“No,” said Lovecraft. “Her eyes have not taken on that reddish hue. At least not at the moment.”
“Well, we’re gonna have to take a chance and untie her.”
Lovecraft untied Glory’s feet and hands as quickly as he could manage, and then he bundled the rope into a wad and shoved it under his seat to hide it from view.
It was some thirty minutes later that Howard saw the flashing red lights of an approaching state trooper in his rearview mirror. He drove as nonchalantly as he could until the other vehicle drew up dangerously close behind them, and then he finally relented and pulled over. Lovecraft made one last attempt at rousing Glory, but it was to no avail.
The trooper’s car maneuvered until its headlights were focused on the Chevy so that when Howard looked at the two approaching silhouettes through the rearview mirror, his eyes were highlighted as if he were some leading man illuminated by a key light. Lovecraft twisted his body around and squinted against the headlights, trying to make out features on the shadows. He was relieved when he could see them dropping their hands down to the obvious lumps of their holsters-that meant they were certainly not the odd men-but then he did a mental double take, realizing that he should perhaps be concerned and not so relieved.
The two troopers walked cautiously forward, their hands on the butts of their weapons. Howard had an uncomfortable feeling, which he hoped was merely his fear of the current predicament, but deep down, he also , could not help but associate the black silhouettes with the odd men.
In a moment a flashlight beam lanced through the interior of the Chevy. “Would you boys mind steppin’ out of your car?”
Howard and Lovecraft grudgingly got out and stood by their open doors. The trooper closer to them came forward and pointed his flashlight through the rear window, illuminating Glory’s unconscious form in the backseat.
“I see her, Joe.”
Howard gave Lovecraft a quick glance, hoping he could be seen.
“Evenin’, Officers. What can we do for you?”
The trooper addressed as Joe wagged his flashlight. “I’d like to see some ID from the both of you.”
Howard produced his thick wallet, but Lovecraft paused and looked uncertain. The trooper illuminated them alternately, flicking the beam back and forth until he grew tired of the game. “Both of you-step back to the rear of your car where I can see y’all together.”
They took a few steps forward. Lovecraft hesitated.
“What’s holdin’ you up, buddy?”
“Officer, I’m afraid I carry my documents in a satchel which now happens to be inside the automobile.”
“You just stay put for now,” said the trooper. He focused his attention on Howard for a moment.
The other trooper had moved over to the passenger-side door, and he leaned in to examine Glory while the trooper named Joe examined the IDs.
Lovecraft had a hunch about what the trooper would discover in the car, so when the other turned to look at Howard’s license in the light, Lovecraft took note of his name tag and forced a weak smile. “Officer Vigil, is it? Rather an apt name for a man of the law who keeps such late watch in such a remote locale.”
“What’s that?” said the trooper. He looked up suspiciously and pointed the beam of his flashlight directly into Lovecraft’s squinting eyes as if to dissuade him from making any other idle comments.
There was an awkward silence punctuated by the odd cadence of the two cars’ engines not quite in synch. Howard cleared his throat, and said, quickly and loudly, pointing back to the car, “Um, that there’s Sonja Kane in the back. She had a couple too many, if you know what I mean.”
The trooper at the car brought his head out. “Woman in here looks like she’s unconscious in the backseat.”
“And what’s she doin’ in your car?” asked the trooper. “How do you happen to know her?”
“Uh, we wouldn’t know her from Adam,” said Howard.
“Ahem-Eve,” Lovecraft corrected.
Howard shot him an annoyed glance. “She hitched a ride with us back in California. Said she was on her way to Texas.”
Trooper Vigil handed their IDs back. “Funny. Most folks these days are skedaddling t’other way ‘round.”
“Yes, the conditions are rather unfavorable for agriculture in the heart of the nation, are they not? But I believe Miss McKane’s intention is to visit relatives.”
“Hey, Joe, come on over here,” called the trooper at the car.
“You fellas excuse me a moment. And y’all wait right where you are.” Vigil walked over to his partner, gesturing for Lovecraft and Howard to stay put. “What you got, Tommy?”
“You have a look-see yourself, Joe.” He directed his partner’s attention inside the Chevy and held the flashlight outside the side window to illuminate Glory in her still comatose state. “Look at her wrists and ankles. I’d say we caught ourselves a coupl’a fish.”
Vigil could see faint rope marks on both of Glory’s wrists in the flashlight beam. He leaned his head in to sniff the air, then hunched in farther to put his nose next to Glory’s mouth. “I don’t smell nothin’. You smell anythin’, Tommy?”
“No.”
“City boys said she was drunk.”
“Ain’t hardly, as far as I can see.”
They drew their weapons simultaneously and turned toward Howard and Lovecraft.
“You boys turn around and put your hands behind your backs. Pronto,” said Vigil.
Lovecraft gave Howard a quick glance, making the two of them look all the more suspicious, and when he did his best to fake a chuckle, it came out flat and dry. “Why, Officer Vigil, surely you don’t mean we are under arrest?”
Vigil’s partner waved his pistol as if he were cooling the barrel in the breeze. “That’s exactly what he means, city boy.”