Keith replied, He's got no lawful charges against me.
Well . . . you never know what he can come up with. It don't take much for a pull-over. Then they got you, and they'll call him.
I understand.
Where's her car?
Why do you ask?
Well, if it's just sitting on the side of the road, or in some parking lot, and she isn't around, Baxter damn sure will call the state police and say his wife's been abducted.
Keith nodded.
If her car's at home, and she's not, or if no one can find her car, then a lot of cops think domestic problem, or no problem, until they get more information. Understand?
Keith nodded again, then said, The car is hidden.
Good.
Not good, Keith thought, if the car is hidden in my barn, and they find it.
Larry said, You'll be okay in Chatham County. I'll see to that.
Thanks.
Annie and Terry came outside, and Keith saw that Annie was holding a teddy bear. Annie looked at both men and asked, Is everything all right?
Either she was too perceptive, Keith thought, or very nervous, or Keith and Larry weren't the poker-faced studs they thought they were. Keith replied, Everything's fine. What did you find?
She threw him the teddy bear, and he examined it. I didn't give you this. Wrong boyfriend's trunk.
Annie smiled and said to Terry, I told you. He's sarcastic, and he thinks he's funny.
Keith said, Well, we should be heading out. He shook Larry's hand. Thanks again.
Annie hugged her sister. You've been wonderful. Thank you. We'll call you from New York. Oh, I think I'm going to cry.
She hugged Larry, and he said, You take care now. Don't worry about anything here.
Keith was about to take Terry's hand when the phone in the kitchen rang. They all stood still, and the same thought passed through everyone's mind.
Keith said, Maybe you should get that.
Terry nodded and hurried into the house. Keith, Annie, and Larry followed.
Terry picked up the wall phone and said, Hello?
Keith could tell by the expression on her face that it wasn't her kids calling to say hello.
Terry looked at the three of them as she listened, then said into the phone, No, Cliff, I haven't seen her.
Annie took Keith's hand, as though, he thought, just her husband's presence on the telephone made her uneasy.
Terry said into the phone, No, she was here yesterday morning and stayed for lunch. I stopped by your place after church today, and I saw her . . . No, she didn't mention she was going anywhere . . . Well, she did say she had a lot of food shopping to do . . . No, I don't know why she didn't do it yesterday— Terry stuck her tongue out at the mouthpiece, and, despite the situation, everyone smiled.
Terry said, How would I know if her car phone is working? Terry listened, then, to everyone's surprise, she said, Look, Cliff, why don't you stop checking up on my sister? I'm tired of— She listened, then said, Cliff, go to hell. She hung up and said, That felt good. She looked at Keith, Annie, and Larry and said, Well, you know who that was.
Larry asked his wife, Did he cuss you?
Sort of.
Larry frowned.
Annie said to Larry, You don't have to consider him your brother-in-law any longer.
Larry nodded, and Keith could only imagine what those sweet words meant to him. Keith asked Terry, Where was he calling from?
He said he was home. Got home earlier than he thought.
How did he sound?
She shrugged. Same. Annoyed.
Annie commented, He's finally got something to be annoyed about.
Keith glanced at the kitchen clock and saw it was seven forty-five P.M., and Cliff Baxter was in Spencerville, missing his wife. They didn't have much time now. He said, All right, we should head out.
They all went outside and again said their good-byes, but this time with some sense of urgency.
Within a minute, they were in the Blazer, backing out of the driveway and waving, the teddy bear sitting between them.
Five minutes before, Keith would have given himself and Annie very good odds of getting away without mishap. Now the odds had dropped to about fifty-fifty, and that wasn't a gamble he normally took.
CHAPTER THIRTY
County Road 6 was straight and flat, and there was very little traffic on a Sunday night, so Keith kept his high beams on and pushed the Blazer up to seventy miles per hour.
Annie asked, Is everything all right? Don't humor me.
Keith replied, I didn't want to worry your sister.
Everything is not all right.
Well, the question is—how long will it take Cliff to figure it out? Maybe you can answer that question.
She thought a moment, then replied, It's nearly eight o'clock, and I've never been out this late without him knowing exactly where I was.
Keith didn't reply.
She said, I guess we really needed that running start.
Takes the fun out of it.
She looked at him and saw he was smiling, so she smiled, too, but both of them knew it wasn't funny. Finally, he said, Fun aside, this is more risk than you had to take, and I'm responsible for that. If I could get you to my farm without being seen, I'd do it and tell you to go home tonight.
No. Even if I could, I wouldn't. I'm with you, and I'm never going back there again. And you're not responsible for me saying yes tonight. Okay?
Okay.
They continued east and left Chatham County, crossing into Dawson County. Keith asked her, What will your trusting spouse do next?
You mean Peter, Peter, the pumpkin eater? Well, he'll call my car phone every two minutes—that's why he was so generous about having Baxter Motors install it. In between those calls, he'll call my parents, relatives, and friends, including Pastor and Mrs. Schenk, for instance. He's absolutely shameless when it comes to tracking me down, and he's not very subtle when he gets people on the phone.
Keith smiled and said, They must all think you fool around.
No, they think he's nuts. She added, He thinks he's embarrassing me and punishing me for not checking in with him every time I go somewhere. But he makes a fool of himself.
Better yet, it takes time to make those calls . . . what order is Terry on the list?
Usually second, after my parents. So he's got about a dozen more calls to make.
Keith nodded.
Annie smiled. Terry finally did it. She mimicked Terry's deeper voice and said, Cliff, go to hell. She laughed. That will put him into a rage for about half an hour. He doesn't like women who back-talk him.
Who does?
You do. And you love to give it right back. But you're not mean— you're funny. She added, You still make me laugh. She put her hand on his cheek and gave him a pinch.
He smiled. They were making good time, and he figured that Interstate 75 was about ten more miles.
She picked up the teddy bear and put it on his lap. Do you remember this?
He glanced at the brown and white stuffed animal. State fair, he guessed.
County fair.
Right.
Shooting gallery. You were very good. Do you still like to shoot?
No. I think I got it out of my system.
I can imagine.
She asked him, Are you armed? c
No.
Why not?
Well, I don't intend to have a shoot-out with the police.
But what if it's him!
We're not going through his little kingdom.
He'd go anywhere, Keith, if he was looking for us.
Well, are you armed?
She didn't reply immediately, then said, I was yesterday morning. Tonight was sort of a surprise.
He thought a moment, then asked her, Would you have used it?
If he tried to stop us from being together, I would.
Well . . . I would, too. To tell you the truth, I might have brought my pistol, but
it's missing. I think your husband burglarized my house.
What? You mean he went into your house?
I can't be certain it was him, but he's on a real short list of suspects. He added, We don't need a gun. We'll be fine.
All right . . .
He glanced at her and said, About two months ago, about the time I arrived, there was a firearm incident at your house, in the early morning hours. Do you want to tell me about that?
She put her head down and stared at the floor a long time, then replied, No, I don't.
Okay.
I will . . . but not now.
Fine.
How did you know?
It's a small town.
People talk about the Baxters, don't they?
You know they do. You're always the saint. He's always Satan.
And you're my guardian angel.
Thank you. I'll try. He still needed more information, and he asked her, What will he do after he harasses everyone with phone calls? Would he call his own police force?
He might . . . that's a last resort. But he's done it. What he's probably doing now is cruising in his police car, looking for my car— motels first, as if I'm going to use a local motel to have an affair. Then, at the same time, he'll be calling everyone he can think of. When he gets frustrated enough, he'll call headquarters—he wouldn't stop in because he doesn't want to face his own men with some idiotic story about being worried about me having an accident or something. I mean, I think the hospital, or the EMS, or his own police might notify him if I had an accident. He's such an idiot, and his men know it.
Keith observed, You seem to know his modus operandi fairly well.
After all these years, I think I do. There used to be an older sergeant on the force, a real good friend to me, and he'd tell me about Cliff's craziness. Cliff got rid of him and all the good old guys as soon as he could. Did you notice that most of those guys were young? Cliff handpicked each one. He told me once that it was like training dogs—get them young, hand-feed them, make them afraid of you, and loyal only to you. She added, He said it was the same with wives.
Keith didn't reply.
She continued, He's also tried to make them as vicious as he is. But I don't believe you can make people vicious unless they have it in them to begin with. Most of those guys are okay—they like me, but they have to play the part for the boss.
Keith wasn't entirely sure about that, but since he had no intention of traveling through Spencer County, he wasn't going to find out. Unless, of course, some other police force picked them up and turned them over to the Spencerville police department. Keith said to her, Okay, after the phone calls, he finally calls the Spencerville P.D. and, I suppose, the county sheriff.
Yes. That's his mother's cousin.
So, at that point, the whole county is looking for your white Lincoln.
Yes. Before I had a car phone, they'd pull me over and very politely ask me to call my husband at work, or go home because he needed to tell me something. She added, A lot of them smirked—not at me, with me.
Sounds like fun being married to the local police chief.
Actually, sometimes it was. God forgive me, but I used to love seeing him make a jackass of himself. She added, I'm sorry. That's not me.
It's okay. He said to her, I'll be honest with you—a lot depends on how long it takes him to decide to drive out to my place, then decide to come onto my property, then to open the barn door.
I know.
He tried to put himself in Cliff Baxter's position. He thought about what Annie had told him about her husband's usual wife-searching routine, and he also considered the fact that Baxter didn't really believe there was any recent connection between his wife and Keith Landry. Yet, eventually, Cliff Baxter would be drawn to the Landry farm. Then what? If he came onto the property, he'd see the house was dark and the Blazer was gone. He would think that Keith Landry had taken Chief Baxter's threat seriously and run away, which was a logical conclusion for Baxter, considering the man's overblown ego. Or Baxter could think something else, based on his jealousy and paranoia, which in this case was well founded. If Baxter thought to go to the barn, all his questions would be answered. The Fuck you note wouldn't improve his mood much. Keith processed all this and figured they had about another hour or less before the police radios started crackling in the surrounding counties.
A half hour after they'd left Terry and Larry, they approached the intersection of Interstate 75. Southbound led directly to Dayton or to Route 15, which would take them to Columbus. Northbound led directly to Toledo. Keith considered the problem. If he went south, to Columbus, it would take about two hours, and to Dayton, close to three. The airports in both cities were bigger than Toledo Airport, and they'd have a better chance of getting a flight to Washington, or even Baltimore or Richmond. It didn't matter where at this point. But that was a very long time to be on the road in this situation.
Toledo Airport was only about a half-hour drive, but Keith didn't know if they could get a flight east, or a flight anywhere for that matter. Yet there had to be some flight out of Toledo that they could get on. The main consideration as he saw it was to get off the road as quickly as possible. He said to Annie, I think we should go to Toledo because it's a shorter drive.
She nodded in understanding.
He added, But I don't know what's flying out of there, where, or when.
I don't care what, where, or when.
Okay. He swung onto Interstate 75 northbound. It was a good, fast road with two lanes in either direction and not much traffic. He kept his speed at seventy miles per hour. They were heading back toward Spencer County, but Interstate 75 would not go through the county. He tried to determine how much territory a police search would include and asked her, When was the last time you saw or spoke to anyone today before you came out to my place at six?
She thought a moment, then replied, I called both of my children at about five . . . just to hear their voices . . . Tom was out, but I spoke to Wendy.
Would Mr. Baxter call his daughter?
Not usually, but this time he might. Yes, I think he would, because he might think I drove up to see her. I told him I wanted to do that, but he didn't like the idea.
So Wendy would fix your time at home at about five-thirty.
Yes. And I left a message on Tom's answering machine about that time.
Keith glanced at the dashboard clock. It was eight-thirty P.M. If Baxter had done his detective work well, he'd figure his wife was unaccounted for since five-thirty, or for the last three hours, which meant about a 180-mile radius from Spencerville by car. That included Toledo, of course, and also Fort Wayne, Indiana, which had an airport about the size of Toledo's. And with each passing half hour, the search radius would be automatically increased. That was assuming there was a search in progress, or about to begin.
Annie watched him awhile, then said, Keith, you don't need this.
No, I want this.
But you don't have to run if I'm not with you. Let me off at the next rest stop, and I'll call Spencerville police headquarters and say—
Say what? You lost your car in my barn, and you need a ride home?
I don't care what I have to say, or what he does, or what happens. I won't put you in this—
Annie, I have my own grudge against Cliff Baxter going back a lot of years. I'm not doing this for you.
Oh . . .
I just want to steal his wife and annoy him. I'll go to Washington, you go to Rome. Send me a postcard. Okay?
I guess you're joking.
I'm being sarcastic and not funny. And you're being much too decent. But I appreciate your concern. He said, Annie, you threw away your wedding ring. We agreed there is no turning back. Subject closed. Forever.
Okay. She observed, You handle this well. I guess you did things like this in your job.
I used to abduct a wife a week.
I mean dangerous things. Was it dangerous?
Not if you did it
right. He added, I spent the last five or six years mostly behind a desk. I'm rusty.
I'm shaky.
You have every right to be. He took her hand and squeezed it. You're doing fine.
I feel safe with you.
Good. So your sister looked great. Good genes in the Prentis family.
My mother hasn't aged much either. You're getting a good deal, Mr. Landry.
I know. He added, It sounded to me like you gave Larry the green light to go a few rounds with Mr. Baxter.
Cliff won't come within fifty miles of him now, and Larry would never go looking for trouble. She said, Larry and Terry have a great marriage. The Prentis women also make good wives. She added, as if reading his mind, Right. One of them didn't know how to pick a husband.
Against his better judgment, Keith asked, Did you ever love him?
No. Not ever.
But he loves you.
He does. But it's not the kind of love I want or need. It's the kind he wants and needs, and it kept me feeling obligated. It kept me around too long. She added, With Wendy at school, I was going to do something, with or without you. Do you believe that?
I do. You hinted as much in your letters. He added, Maybe that's what made me come back.
No maybes about it, Keith. This was our last chance. You knew that.
Yes, I did.
We're going to make it this time, aren't we?
We are.
If I wasn't so frightened, I'd be bouncing in my seat.
You can bounce on the airplane seat. He put a tape in the deck and said, Sixties stuff. Mixed album. Okay?
More than okay.
The Lovin' Spoonful sang, Do You Believe in Magic, and Annie said, Nineteen sixty-five. We're in our freshman year. Right?
Right.
She said, My kids love this stuff.
The Casinos sang, Then You Can Tell Me Good-bye, and Keith said, That's . . . maybe sixty-seven. We're juniors.
That was fast.
They listened to the tape and, about ten minutes later, Annie touched his arm and pointed to the exit sign up ahead. Bowling Green.
He nodded. It was odd, he thought, how certain place names could be so evocative in a person's personal history. He felt a little twinge in his heart and turned to say something to her and saw a tear run down her cheek. He put his hand on her neck and massaged it.
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