“For the sake of argument, I mean. Say that Richie was killed and you got my fifteen thousand and you got Fuller’s fifteen thousand. You think you couldn’t start your life all over?”
Suddenly, he realized what she was talking about.
He said, “Believe me, Helen, I sure wouldn’t mind killing the son of a bitch. But—”
He shook his head.
“But what, Steve?”
“But if I did, they’d be all over me.”
“Who would?”
“Hell, everybody would, Helen. Everybody knows we hate each other. And he’s even got a lawsuit going against me.”
“You could make it look good, Steve. You could make it look as if you didn’t have any choice but to kill him.”
His eyes searched her face. He wanted to understand her interest in all this.
“You’d have thirty thousand dollars,” she said. “And it would be over.”
“What’s your interest in this? Because of David bringing those businessmen here?”
“Of course. Why the hell else would I be interested?”
“I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
For a few minutes there, they’d actually been speaking as equals.
But her superior ways were back. “I don’t like your tone, Steve.”
“I just meant—”
“I just don’t see how you can turn thirty thousand dollars down so quickly.”
She was obsessive on the subject.
“Listen, Helen. First of all, I don’t know if I can even find him. Second of all, if I bring him in alive, I’d still get Fuller’s reward.”
“If you bring him in dead, you’ll get a bonus.”
“A bonus?”
“Twenty-five instead of fifteen from me. I just—” She sat there, looking oddly flushed, agitated. “This is a black mark on this community. We need to get beyond it as soon as possible. If he was dead—”
“If he was dead, the story would die with him.”
“That’s it exactly.”
He became aware of the creaking leather of his Sam Browne belt. What she was offering him was forty grand all told.
What she was also offering him — at least potentially — was starting his life over.
Maybe the dreams of Susan Kelly weren’t dead yet.
“David and I could take care of any problems with Chief Hadley or the Mayor,” she said quietly. “I think you know that, don’t you?”
“Well, I guess it’s something to think about, Helen.”
He looked at his watch and stood up.
She walked him to the door.
He almost hated leaving this house. Much as he resented it, the place was a form of sanctuary.
“It’s a lot of money, Steve.”
“It certainly is.”
“And we could handle any of the fallout.”
He smiled at her. There was no supplicant tone in his voice now. “I sure wish I knew why you wanted him dead so bad.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you don’t want him dead, too?”
With that, he nodded good-bye and left.
David stood in the kitchen listening to everything his sister said to Steve Arnette. The whole thing was getting far too complicated. A part of him wanted to pick up the phone and call Chief Hadley and get it over with.
But then Helen was walking back inside. She looked at him and said, “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” he said, feeling miserable. “Just fine.”
3
Some of the searchers, especially the old-timers, thought, To hell with the manhunt, I’ll just enjoy the day.
In creeks and ponds the reflections of the fiery trees could be seen, like the impressionist paintings of the masters. In the hills, up where the county’s two riding stables lay, you could see Appaloosas and mustangs and palominos run the meadows. And nestled down in the valleys were the well-kept farms where dogs and cats and raccoons exerted their privilege as family pets to laze in the sunshine of the yard. And in the sky, hawks dove down the air currents, putting on an acrobatic show for anybody who wanted to see.
Who gave a damn about some drunken killer when God put this feast before your eyes?
Not all the searchers were so philosophically inclined, of course. Arnette’s buddies seemed to see Richie McGuire behind every tree, barn, and shack they passed. Their trucks and vans were always jerking to a stop, and somebody dressed in camouflage was always leaping from the vehicle to the ground, rifle ready. They probably would have looked more impressive if they hadn’t been quite so chunky, or if they’d shaved recently, or if they didn’t bark a strange military code back and forth.
The rednecks just wanted to kill somebody. They drove up and down the dusty gravel roads and walked across the farm fields and climbed the narrow trails up to the timberline. All they talked about was what they were going to do with Richie McGuire when they caught him. He’d always been such an arrogant prick to their kind — had never had time for them in high school, had even less time for them afterward — that it was going to be fun to bring that bastard in. And if he gave them any trouble...
There were about twenty professional lawmen from nearby counties. They did the least talking and the most looking. They picked out the best nonprofessionals they could find and organized them into special units and gave each unit a walkie-talkie. Two of these units swung west, to search the area over by the old cattle auction barns... and the other two units swung north, up by the land that had been ceded to the Indians following an 1883 treaty. But by 1904, the Indians had figured out that the white man had done them in again... so they petitioned the federal government to move them to their tribal lands in South Dakota. The reservation, including several very interesting totems, had been rebuilt and preserved inside a theme park called Tomahawk Village, which came complete with a carnival midway and a variety of tent shows built around “Indian” themes. There were a lot of places to hide in Tomahawk Village... and so the searchers got busy.
“You all right?” Sam said.
“Just a little headache, I guess.”
“There’s some Tylenol in the glove compartment.”
“Thanks,” Amy said.
“Can you take them without water?”
“Sure.”
“That’s a trick I never mastered. If I take them dry that way, they have a hard time sliding down my throat and they start to disintegrate. And then they leave this aftertaste.”
She smiled sadly. All she could think about was Richie. But she had to carry on her normal human functions, too. So she made a joke. “Sounds like you’ve got a real medical problem.”
“You really are a smart-ass, you know that?”
They’d checked out the area over by the deserted high school, and then they’d checked the area out around Richie’s cottage. Now they were driving out the river road. A lot of houseboats had been docked here for the winter. Any one of them would be perfect for hiding in.
He looked at her. “He’s going to be all right.”
“Not with a fifteen-thousand-dollar reward, he isn’t,” Amy said.
“There’s always the chance that he’ll give himself up.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“He’s very paranoid. Always thinks somebody’s trying to get him. This plays right into that. He figures that if the law gets him, there’ll be a quick trial and he’ll go to prison the rest of his life.”
He hesitated before he spoke. “I’m going to ask you something that may piss you off.”
“I know what you’re going to ask, Sam. And it doesn’t piss me off.”