"You get mugged?"
"No, had a car accident."
"Jeez. Hey, you here on business?"
"Yes."
"No luggage?"
"No. Going back tonight."
"Thought so. You want me to wait for you? Five bucks an hour to wait."
"Maybe."
"Want to listen to the radio? Tapes?"
"Radio."
Chuck turned on the radio, a hard-rock station.
Keith hit the scan button, and a succession of stations came on for about ten seconds each, then Keith locked in an all-news station from Toledo and listened to the world news, which interested him about as much as it interested Chuck. Finally, the local news came on.
The newscaster said, "The state police announced this morning that they expect to question Keith Landry, the suspect in the Spencerville kidnapping case. Landry, of Spencerville, is currently in Lucas County Hospital suffering from head injuries resulting from an assault committed by an unknown assailant or assailants in an airport highway motel. Landry was the subject of a statewide manhunt Sunday night and early Monday morning, after the Spencerville police charged that he kidnapped Annie Baxter, the wife of the Spencerville police chief. Mrs. Baxter was not found at the motel, but the state police have been informed by the Spencerville police that Mrs. Baxter is safe and is now back with her family. The investigation will continue, according to authorities who hope to discover the identity of the assailant or assailants, and to determine what charges will be filed against Landry."
Keith hit a button, and a country-western station came on.
Chuck said, "That's something, ain't it?"
"What?"
"That kidnapping. They found the guy right near the airport back there." Chuck gave his opinion of the incident. "Like, they got all kinds of stuff on the radio, on TV, and all, and I'm thinkin', hell, if that was my girlfriend or something, the cops wouldn't go jumpin' through their asses like that. But it's another cop, you know, and this woman was like an upstanding member of the community and all, two kids, and the husband is a police chief. So, anyway, they find them... well, like they said, they never found her, which is weird, but the state police get to this motel and all, like some kind of hourly place, you know, and so they find the guy who kidnapped her, and he's all beat to shit, but nobody knows where the wife got to — when the cops got to the motel, everybody who was checked in are long gone, you know, because they don't belong there in the first place, and the only witness is this motel manager or something, and the cops ain't saying what he said. Now, I think there was two of them, two guys, Landry and another guy, and they get into an argument about who's gonna fuck her first and all that, and one of them slam-dunks the other guy, then cuts out with the wife. And they was all white people. Can you believe that shit?"
"Incredible story."
"You said it. And now they're sayin' the wife is back with her family. And the state police says the husband, the chief, is in... some word..."
"Shock?"
"Yeah, that, but... seclusion. In seclusion. Like layin' low. You know?"
"Yeah."
"What do you think? Two guys, right? That explains it. Cops say they don't know what happened. Big mystery. Hell, they got the motel guy, and they got the guy who got the shit beat out of him. They know, but they're not letting on. They do that sometimes. Something weird here. How did the wife get away? You know what I think? The husband paid a ransom. The cops don't want to say that another cop paid a ransom. Right?"
"Could be."
"I should be a cop. Hey, you want coffee? There's a stop up ahead."
Yes, he wanted coffee, he wanted food, he wanted to get rid of a three-day stubble and brush his teeth and wash the stench off him, but he said, "No, I'm in a hurry."
"Sure thing."
About a half hour after they started, Keith saw the exit for Route 15, westbound. He said, "Let's get off here."
"Here?"
"I have to pick up some papers at a lawyer's house."
"Okay... where's that?"
"Not sure. I have directions. If it takes a long time, I'll give you a few bucks extra."
"No problem."
They traveled west on Route 15, and Keith directed Chuck onto a series of roads that he figured the man wouldn't recall later if it ever came up.
Chuck said, "Hey, you got all this memorized, right?"
"Sure do."
"What town is it?"
"It's a farm. Lawyer lives in a farmhouse."
"Okay."
They got onto County Road 22, and as they approached his farm, Keith realized there was something wrong. What was wrong was the skyline — there was no house there.
Keith stood in front of the charred ruins of what had once been his home, his father's home, his grandfather's home.
Chuck said, "Jesus... you think everybody got out all right?"
Keith didn't reply. He looked at the other buildings, which still stood, then out at the endless fields of corn, the deep blue sky, the distant tree line.
Chuck asked, "What do you want to do now?"
What he wanted to do was sit on the ground and look at the house until the sun went down. What he had to do was something else.
It had been a little over an hour since he'd walked out of the hospital. The staff would not have discovered that immediately, and when they did, there'd be an in-hospital search, some confusion, and finally the police in the Toledo area would be notified. Keith figured there would be some lag time before the state police were notified, and more time before someone thought to notify the Spencerville police, who in turn were undoubtedly not famous for their reaction time. Still, the first place they'd look for him was here. He jumped back into the van.
Chuck got behind the wheel. "Where to?"
"Spencerville."
Chapter Thirty-six
They drove into Spencerville, and Chuck commented, "Hey, there's the police station. This is some coincidence, ain't it? I mean, you comin' all the way from New York and windin' up here where this kidnapping happened. Not a bad-looking little town. Where's this lawyer's office?"
"In his other house. Turn over here."
Keith directed Chuck to the north side of town, and, within a few minutes, they were on Williams Street. Keith had no expectation that Annie and Cliff Baxter would be there, sitting around trying to iron out their differences. They were in seclusion, and Williams Street was not seclusion. The van passed the house, and Keith saw the white Lincoln in the driveway, but there was no other sign that anyone was home, and no obvious sign that the house was being watched. He said to Chuck, "Pull over here."
Chuck pulled over to the curb.
Perhaps by now, the Spencerville police knew that Keith Landry had escaped from the hospital, and if they did, their first thought would probably be that Landry was fleeing the state. But their second thought might well be that Landry was headed back to Spencerville, though they'd think that was a long shot. Still, they'd be on some sort of alert and would probably stake out the farm. But Keith knew there would be two places they wouldn't expect to see him: the police station and the Baxter house.
Keith got out and said, "Be about ten minutes." He took his briefcase and walked to the Baxter house. It was a cool morning, and there was no one on the porches, and no one visible on the street at all. He walked up the driveway and headed toward the rear. If anyone was watching from a window, the blue trust-me suit and briefcase gave off a message of respectability and legitimate purpose.
There was a kennel at the end of the yard, but Keith couldn't see or hear any dogs.
Keith walked up to the rear porch, opened the screen door, and tried the knob on the back door, but it was locked. He looked in both neighboring yards and at the windows of the surrounding houses, but didn't see anyone through the high hedges. Holding the screen door open with his leg, he drove the corner of his briefcase through one of the windowpanes, reached inside, and unlocked the door. He slipped quickly inside, closing the door behind him.