Part 22 (1/2)

Calhoun arrived a few minutes later. We were sitting on the porch, smoking cigarettes and holding hands in the darkness. ”I tried to call you,” he said, ”and warn you he was on his way out here. It was my fault. I tried to tell him about Pearl and Frankie and calling in the Federal boys. He caught on to where you were, and tore out.”

”It's all right,” I said. I told him what had happened. He went inside.

More cars arrived, and the place was full of Deputies, most of whom I'd never seen before. They left the headlights on to illuminate the yard. Magruder and Mitch.e.l.l came over, glanced at me, and went inside to talk to Redfield.

”I tried to catch her,” Georgia said. ”I followed her outside after she ran into me, but she got away.”

”She had a gun,” I said.

”I know. But it seemed to me she was our only chance.”

”She would have been,” I said, ”except she left her purse. Incidentally, remind me to thank you sometime for putting out those lights.”

The screen door opened and Redfield came out, followed by Mitch.e.l.l. ”You're in charge,” Redfield said. ”Take over. Search the place, inventory that stuff, and when you've got 'em all, bring 'em in and book 'em. I'll be at home.”

Mitch.e.l.l nodded to me. ”What about Chatham?”

”There's no charge,” Redfield said curtly. ”He can go any time he wants.”

I stood up, took the gun from the pocket of my jacket, and held it out to him b.u.t.t-first. He accepted it without a word and dropped it in his jacket. Turning abruptly away, he walked across the yard, got into the cruiser, and drove away, picking up speed as he shot out towards the road.

I sat down. Georgia watched the red lights turn into the road and disappear. ”Couldn't one of you have said something?”

”Said what?” I asked.

”Yes, I see what you mean.”

Calhoun came out. He lit a cigarette, and we watched the flashlights searching out through the timber. ”She still had the gun, didn't she?”

”Yes,” I said.

”You haven't heard a shot?”

”No,” I said. ”And if she hasn't by now, she probably won't.”

”More than likely she's just sitting up there in the car.”

I thought about it. It made me s.h.i.+ver.

”They've got Frankie and Pearl spilling pretty well,” he said. ”They had Strader's car with them that night, besides the truck, so they split up on the way back. They brought the safes on out here, and butchered 'em open the next day. They claim they didn't go to Redfield's house at all. Sounds logical.”

”But she and Strader had some of the stuff?” I asked. ”Things that weren't in the safe?”

”That's right,” he replied. ”You had it pegged all the time. She told them that was the way it happened. He came around the house and started to walk into the kitchen. Strader was outside, getting some more of the stuff. All he saw was a silhouette, and thought it was Redfield. There were some watches and silver and things like that right in plain sight on the table. And a dead truck driver lying in the weeds behind a highway lunch-stand up in Georgia.”

Georgia Langston rose and walked a few steps away, looking off into the darkness.

”I'm sorry,” Calhoun said.