"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."