Part 21 (1/2)

”Even if he turns,” Deem said, ”it's too much of a coincidence. We were in that church for half an hour, at least. I can't believe he just happened to wait in his car for exactly that long before he started home. And he's carpooling! No way. They were waiting for us to leave.”

”To what, trail you?” Winn asked. ”Why bother? He knows where you live. He doesn't need to trail you.”

”You're right, it doesn't make sense,” Deem said, ”unless he intends to kill me now, on the way home. A lot less people around, out here, than in Mesquite.”

Winn could tell Deem was really getting worked up. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen her this panicked. ”Or maybe it's just to scare you,” he said, trying to calm her. ”We don't know if Hester knew what he was talking about or not. He just drops this comment and blips out. He didn't stick around for us to clarify what he meant. Let's see what happens at Beryl Junction.”

Deem watched the blue dot on her screen as they approached the junction. It remained constant behind them, never varying in distance.

”It's up ahead,” Winn said. ”I'm going to slow down and let them catch up a little, so we can see them turn.”

”I've got this map,” Deem said. ”I'll be able to see if they turn.”

Winn slowed down his Jeep nonetheless, and pa.s.sed the turn to St. George, continuing straight. The road ahead didn't have any curves. He slowed to twenty miles per hour and watched his rear view mirror.

The lights from the car behind them covered the distance rapidly.

”They're not turning,” Winn said. The lights were approaching at a great deal of speed. Winn was afraid he was going to slow and would be hit.

”They pa.s.sed the junction,” Deem said. ”They're still following us.”

Winn pulled his Jeep off the road. The car behind them was barreling down on them, not slowing. Just as he got the wheels of the Jeep off the asphalt and onto the gravel, the car behind them sped by. Deem felt the Jeep shake from the wind turbulence.

They both watched the tail lights of the car pa.s.sing away from them down the road.

”Was that him?” Winn asked. ”I didn't see what kind of car it was. I was trying to get off the road so it didn't hit me!”

”They're still behind us,” Deem said, observing the map.

”Impossible,” Winn said. ”There's nothing back there.”

Deem showed him the screen. ”It pa.s.sed the turn off, still following us. He's back there.”

”How far back?” Winn asked.

”I don't know,” Deem said. ”A thousand feet? A quarter mile? I'm not sure. There's no scale on this thing.”

”Is it moving?” Winn asked.

”No, it's still,” Deem said. ”Not moving.”

Winn made a U turn and drove back down the highway. ”Is it still there?” he asked.

”Yes,” Deem said. ”We're coming up on it. Slow down.”

”There's nothing here, Deem.”

Winn looked in his rear view mirror. No cars the road was empty. Late on a Sunday night, cars should be few and far between on this desolate stretch of highway. He let the car drift forward.

”It says we're on it,” Deem said, reading the screen. ”It's right here.”

”There's no car here,” Winn said.

”What the f.u.c.k?” Deem asked. ”It's got to be!”

Winn squinted at the other side of the road and stopped the Jeep, turning the wheels a little toward the other lane of traffic, the one they'd sped down just moments before. He put the headlights on high beam, and stepped out of the car. He was a.s.saulted by a dry wind.

Deem looked at the window of the Jeep in disbelief. At first she thought it was a bird, but then she realized a bird couldn't remain stationary off the ground. There, floating about four feet off the asphalt, in the middle of the road, was the tracking device. A few pieces of duct tape still hung from it, flapping in the wind. She watched as Winn walked up to it and grabbed it. Then he got back into the Jeep. He handed it to Deem.

”They're f.u.c.king with us,” Winn said.

She turned it over in her hand, examining it, becoming angry. It looked exactly the same as when she'd placed it under the BMW. ”We're gonna f.u.c.k back,” she replied.

Chapter Ten.

”Are you sure about this?” Winn asked as he pulled his Jeep into Dayton's driveway, parking directly behind the BMW. ”It seems a little reactionary.”

Deem opened the door to the Jeep. ”Come on,” she said. ”I need you as a witness.” She slammed the Jeep's door closed and began marching up to the front door of Dayton's house.

”A witness?” Winn asked, following her.

”I'm not going to be intimidated by these people,” Deem said. ”They need to know that.”

Deem pounded on the door. It opened, and Deem was ready to start laying into the person opening it. Then she realized it was a small boy, maybe five years old.

”h.e.l.lo?” he asked.

”Is your father here?” Deem said. ”I need to speak with him.”

The boy turned and ran away, leaving the door open. ”Dad!” he yelled as he disappeared deeper into the house.

Deem pushed the door open and stepped into the entryway. Winn remained outside.

”Come on,” she said. ”They won't know the kid didn't invite us in.”

”You're scaring me a little,” Winn said.

”You love it,” Deem answered.

”Yeah, I kinda do,” Winn replied.

A woman emerged from around a corner and walked toward them. She was tall, lean, and pretty. ”Deem?” she said as she approached. ”Is that you?”

”h.e.l.lo, Sister Dayton,” Deem said, trying to tamp down the anger in her voice. ”I need to see Brother Dayton. Is he home? It's urgent.”

”I think he just got back from a meeting,” she said, eyeing Deem and then giving Winn a once over. ”How are you? I haven't seen you since the funeral. I hope you're doing well.”