“Perhaps not,” Annie said. “I just wanted to let you know.” She hesitated and spoke cautiously, watching the woman’s face. “If Adam calls you, it might be best to try and convince him to turn himself in before anyone else gets hurt.”
Virginia frowned. “Why does everyone think I talk to him?”
“Everyone?” Annie asked.
“This morning I was accosted by a newsperson. She said some cruel things about Adam and me. Accused me of harboring him.”
Annie was pretty sure Mrs. Thorburn was referring to Lisa. She touched the woman’s hand. “I think I know who it was. Her name’s Lisa Krunk, and she lives to stir up trouble.”
Virginia nodded, took another drag of her cigarette, and blew the smoke toward the ceiling. “I’ve seen her stories on TV, and when she came around earlier, I never let her in, but today she caught me in the street.”
“I try to avoid her when I can too,” Annie said. She picked up her handbag, pushed back her chair, and stood. “Mrs. Thorburn, for Adam’s safety, please contact the police if you see him. I know he’s your son, but it’s the right thing to do.”
Virginia stood without a word, dropped her cigarette in the ashtray, and followed Annie to the door. Annie stepped outside and walked to the sidewalk, leaving the woman silently staring after her.
Annie wasn’t sure if she’d made any headway in convincing Mrs. Thorburn, but she feared there would be other innocent victims.
She strode past the house next door. She had already talked to Mabel Shorn and didn’t see the point of dropping in again. She continued down the street, talking to the inhabitants at some, her knocks going unanswered at others.
Finally, she reached the corner. The last house on the block had a side door facing the intersecting street. She stepped onto the porch, opened the screen door, and knocked.
There was no answer, so she rapped again, a little harder, and the door swung open with a groan.
“Hello,” she called. “Is anyone home?”
There was no answer. Annie peered through the door and into the kitchen. The room seemed to be empty, void of furniture save for a broken-down table and two sturdy chairs. Trash littered the floor, and the room had a stale, unlived-in smell. The owners had moved out, and Annie wondered why the door was not only unlocked, but unlatched.
She stepped inside and reached for the doorknob to pull the door shut, calling one last time. “Is there anyone here?” She peered around the door toward the almost empty living room and decided the house was indeed unoccupied.
Except, something seemed out of place. She frowned at a crippled couch, missing one leg, pushed up against the far wall. A blanket and small pillow lay on top as if someone slept there on occasion. Was it just a homeless person seeking shelter, or was it Adam?
Curious now, she stepped into the living room and examined her surroundings. A broken lamp with a twisted shade sat in one corner, empty boxes in another. The carpeting was stained and worn through in places, the walls and ceiling yellowed with age. Except for the new-looking blanket and pillow, the house appeared to have been vacated many months, maybe many years, ago.
She knew the police had been here earlier, and if the blanket was an indication of Adam’s presence now, then he must’ve come since the place was searched. She looked around nervously and decided to leave. He might be here even now, and she should notify the police of the possibility.
“What’re you doing here?” the voice came from behind her. Startled, she spun around and glared into the face of the man she recognized from his profile.
It was Adam Thorburn.
She looked toward the door. He sidestepped and blocked her passage. “Who’re you?”
“Adam, it’s Annie Lincoln,” she said, attempting to speak as friendly as possible. “I … I’ve been looking for you.”
His frowning face relaxed slightly. “Mrs. Lincoln?” Then his frown deepened. “Why’re you here? Can’t you leave me alone?”
“You have to turn yourself in, Adam.”
“I should never have called you.”
She took a step toward him but stopped short when he held out a hand, palm toward her. “Don’t come any closer. I don’t trust you.”
“Then let me leave and I won’t come back,” she said, then realized no one would fall for that line—especially someone with Adam’s intelligence. She changed her tactic. “Better still, you leave, Adam. I’ll wait until you’re safely gone, then you know I have to call my husband.”
He shook his head as one hand circled to his back. A moment later, his hand appeared again, gripping a pistol. “I can’t do that,” he said. He didn’t look angry or vicious, only frightened and perhaps cautious.
She stared at the weapon wavering in his hand. She could tell he had rarely, if ever, held a gun before. A loaded pistol in the hands of the unpracticed can be more dangerous than in the hands of a skilled marksman. An expert will only shoot if required, but judging by the way Adam’s finger shook on the trigger, he could inadvertently fire at her any moment.
She took a step backwards, bumping into the couch. He didn’t move, and the weapon still wavered.
He looked toward the door, then moved back and closed it with a foot. “Come here,” he said.
Annie eyed the weapon and stepped closer. She had no other choice and nowhere to run.
He took another step back and reached for a doorknob, twisted it, and swung a door open. “Downstairs,” he said, flicking on a light switch. “You have to go down there until I decide what to do.”
She glanced down the stairs.
“Give me your handbag.”
She reluctantly slipped it off her shoulder and handed it to him.
He took the bag and raised the pistol. “Now go.”
“You don’t have to do this, Adam,” she said.
He waved the pistol and his finger shook. “Now.”
She stepped down the stairs, one at a time until she reached the bottom, and then turned around and looked up.
He stood at the top, watching her. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Lincoln. I truly am, but I told you to leave me alone.”
The door closed and a lock slid shut.
She turned around and her eyes roved over the empty windowless room. Adam seemed to be in his right mind for now, but what might happen during one of his blackout periods was uncertain, and it frightened her.
Chapter 36
Thursday, 11:35 a.m.
JAKE WAS CONVINCED Adam Thorburn was somewhere in the immediate vicinity, close by the steel mill and the area surrounding it. After dropping Annie off on Mill Street an hour or so earlier, he had continued to patrol the adjacent streets in hopes the fugitive would make an appearance.
Occasionally, he had spied a police cruiser making its rounds, but thus far, all his attempts to locate Adam Thorburn had been unsuccessful.
He pulled the Firebird to the shoulder at the end of the steel mill property and gazed into the large area of land the mill encompassed. There were a lot of places a fugitive could hide. The ancillary buildings alone offered an abundance of possibilities.
But that wouldn’t exactly be permanent. The buildings were in use, all contributing in one way or another to the running of the mill, and anyone hiding inside would be apt to be discovered at any time. As far as he knew, the police had already scoured the property, and their search had turned up nothing.
Jake gazed past the mill to the line of trees a quarter mile away. From where he sat, it appeared to be a vast forest. When he had discovered Adam in the area the previous day, the fugitive had made it to the opposite side of the chain-link fence. Perhaps he was hiding out somewhere in the forest.
He turned off the vehicle, pulled out his cell phone, and sent Annie a text message: “Checking in forest. Call me when you’re done canvassing.” He didn’t get a reply, and he assumed she was in the middle of an interview.