Everybody looked at Lucas, who said, "You know what? We won't. So let's not do that. Could we just get a couple of your cars roaming around the streets? Put some pressure on him and let him run. He'll run sooner or later. He's not smart enough not to."
They argued about that for a while-the chief pointed out that somebody might be held hostage, and if they knocked on doors, they'd at least eliminate places where they knew he wasn't-but finally agreed that cruising was the best option, until something better came along. They were still talking about it when Lucas got a call from the BCA duty officer.
"You got a guy name of Lyle Mack calling you about his brother, who he says you're chasing."
Lucas took the call, and Lyle Mack said, "I got a call from Joe. He said you guys scared the shit out of him and he ran away."
"Where is he?" Lucas asked.
"I don't know. Someplace around here," Lyle Mack said. "He said he ran until he couldn't run anymore and then he went down to a shopping center where he saw a cab letting a guy out, and got a ride downtown. He said he bought a coat at Macy's, and he's leaving town."
"Don't lie to me, man. We're past that," Lucas said.
"Hey-I'm not," Lyle Mack said. "I'm telling you what he said. He said he ran for it because you accused him of sticking up the hospital, which he didn't, and you're trying to frame him, and he's heading out. He said hasta la vista, and he's gone."
"How is he gone? We saw him selling his van this morning."
"Yeah, and he's got a pocket full of cash from it, and Joe Mack's got friends," Lyle Mack said. "I told him I was gonna call you, because there was no point of both of us getting in the shit. He said 'go ahead."'
"Where are you?" Lucas said. "We're coming to see you."
"I'm on my way to the bar. I'll be there in five minutes."
Lucas got off the phone and told the chief that it'd be good to keep a car or two roaming around, but that he believed Joe Mack was gone. SHRAKE AND THE BACKUP COPS went to Joe Mack's address, while Marcy and Lucas waited at the bar for Lyle Mack. While they waited, they pushed on Honey Bee.
"When you came back there, you said to Joe Mack, 'They were our friends,' or something like that," Lucas said to her. "It sounds like you thought Joe had something to do with them being dead."
Honey Bee had had a little time to think about it, and she said, "No, I don't think Joe… Listen, they were friends of mine. They were friends of Joe and Lyle. They came here every night, and when they had the money, they were good tippers. Good guys. I couldn't believe those assholes didn't tell me they were dead. Like they were nobodies. Like they didn't care, it was like a bigger deal to pay the Budweiser guy."
"So why'd he run?" Marcy asked.
"I don't know-I don't know what you guys said to him. You must've scared him," she said. "Joe's a good guy, but he's not smart. Lyle's always taken care of him. I think you must've said something that panicked him."
"We told him we thought he helped rob the hospital," Lucas said.
Honey Bee flipped her hands in the air. "Well, that would have done it. Listen, the one thing Joe knows for sure is that cops frame people. He says he was framed twice, already."
She'd thought about it, but she overdramatized her answers, giving them the odor of lies. Lucas smelled it, and so did Marcy.
Lucas said, "As far as we know, there were no women involved in the robbery at the hospital. If you know something about that, and you're lying to us, you could go to jail as an accessory after the fact to a triple murder. That's thirty years, Honey Bee, and I'm not fooling around. This is a bad thing."
"I'm not lying," she said, with her best earnest, honest face. But she was.
Quick test: Lucas asked, "When did Joe get the haircut and shave?"
She hadn't seen it coming, and she said, "Uh…" and she looked from one of them to the other, and finally went with the truth. "Couple days ago, I guess. Listen, I don't know why. He does that every once in a while." LYLE MACK came steaming through the door, looked at the three of them and said, "What happened? What happened? What'd you say to Joe? He's so scared he's peeing his pants. For Christ's sakes, Joe's a little retarded. What'd you tell him?"
Mack was scared. They all sat in the front of the bar, in the stink of the weenie machine, arguing about what Joe Mack was up to, and Lyle Mack insisted that his brother had nothing to do with any holdup. He rapped his knuckles on the table. "He doesn't do that shit. We got a good business here. And Joe Mack is not a violent guy. He doesn't like violence."
"Hey, we got his records," Marcy said.
"They don't tell the whole story."
"Oh, horseshit," Marcy said. "And we understand you're a branch of eBay."
"Hey. That's a lie. Anybody tell you that, send them to me. I'll set them straight."
"So where's he going?" Lucas asked. "Joe?"
Lyle Mack shook his head: "I don't know. LA, maybe. Mexico? He's a good mechanic, I suppose he could head up to Alaska or Canada."
"Has he got a passport?"
"Yup. He does. But he doesn't carry it. And if you've got cops over at his apartment, then he's not going to get it. But you know LA-if he wants to go to Mexico, he can. You can buy real passports on the street corner for a thousand bucks."
"What about Joe's haircut and shave?" Lucas asked. "You must have asked him what all that was about."
"I don't know what that was all about," Lyle Mack said. "Time for a change, I guess."
"Right." LUCAS TOOK a call bounced off the BCA office from Grace, the Mendota Heights chief of police.
He said, "We got a call from a preschool teacher. One of the kids' moms was supposed to pick her up two hours ago, and they haven't been able to find her. Doesn't answer her cell, nobody home. Supposed to be super-responsible… and her house is three blocks from Cherries. She was supposed to pick up her kid about ten minutes after Joe Mack ran, and the school is about five minutes away. Never called to say that she'd be late or had a problem. She would have been leaving the house just about the time he ran."
"Sonofagun," Lucas said. "You got somebody on the way to the house?"
"Yeah. The preschool lady is there, with the kid. They say there was no answer at the door, but the back door was open, so they went in. Nobody home. The minivan is gone. Crock-Pot is on. I mean, maybe it's nothing."
"Maybe the Pope's a Presbyterian," Lucas said. "I'm heading over there. You got the tags for the car?"
"Uh, we're getting that," Grace said.
"Call the duty guy at the BCA when you get them. I'll have him set up to put them out everywhere."
"You think he's got her?"
"I do." Lucas took down the woman's address and rang off and said to Lyle Mack, "Your brother may be in really deep shit. I'm telling you, man, if you know anything, you better cough it up. Or we're gonna hang you, I swear to God."
"Man…" THEY WERE out the door, and Lucas filled Marcy in on the possible kidnapping. Marcy said, "I'm going to get a warrant for a phone tap."
"Okay."
"Didn't have probable cause. Now we've got a lot of circumstantial, plus he's a runner, and we've got a possible kidnapping. And we know he calls his brother."
"So get it," Lucas said. "Problem is, every jerkwater on the planet has a disposable phone." ON THE WAY OVER, Lucas called the BCA duty officer and told him to expect the call from Grace; and Marcy got the wiretap going. Two cop cars were parked in front of the house, and Grace arrived as Lucas and Marcy were walking up the driveway.
The house was a modest, dirty-white ranch with a detached garage; the garage door was open. It was more like five blocks from Cherries, than three, but also made sense for a runner, Lucas thought. Joe Mack had threaded around houses to stay out of sight as long as possible, then made a long hard zig downhill to his left. THE TEACHER'S name was Marti Stasic. MacBride's daughter, four-year-old Stacy, a tiny black-haired girl with a smudge of tears under her eyes, held on to one of Stasic's index fingers.