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Jamie groaned. “Why would you keep our middle school yearbook? Do you remember how crummy our hairstyles were back then?”

Maggie didn’t answer. She flipped through the pages until she found what she was looking for. “I’ll bet you forgot Carl Lee has a younger sister. She was two grades behind us.”

“I don’t remember her,” Jamie said.

“Well, here she is.” Maggie handed Jamie the book and pointed to one of the school photos, a thin girl with bright red-orange hair, freckles, and braces. “Meet Kathleen Francis Stanton,” she announced, “who could easily be my daughter’s twin.”

Chapter Six

Police Chief Lamar Tevis pulled the old pickup truck into Maggie Davenport’s driveway and parked. He wore a cap adorned with several fish hooks; the words BITE ME were written just above the bill. A blue tick hound sat in the back of the truck, scratching as though his life depended on it.

Zack climbed inside the truck a few minutes later and found Tevis on his cell phone. The chief held up one finger, indicating to Zack the call would only take a minute.

“Now, listen here, Clancy,” Tevis said, “I put you on alert the minute I caught wind of Carl Lee Stanton’s escape, and you’ve been jerking me around ever since. If this is your way of getting back at me for winning the last poker game then you need to start spending your Wednesday nights at the senior citizen’s bingo parlor.”

Zack grinned and leaned back in the seat.

“You’re not listening to me,” Lamar went on. “I am spread real thin on manpower, Buddyroe, on account of this whole dang town has gone completely nuts on me, and these Elvis impersonators aren’t making things any easier. I’ve got four of them locked in a cell right now for public drunkenness, and if I have to listen to ‘Jailhouse Rock’ or that hound dog song one more time I’m going to turn my dang gun on myself.” He paused for air. “Now, then, I need every fireman and volunteer fireman you got, you hear?” He paused. “What do you mean, they’re sitting in the lobby at the station? Since when?”

Tevis looked at Zack who shrugged.

“Well, dang, Clancy,” Lamar said, taking on a sheepish tone, “you could have told me you were sending them over and saved me this phone call. Hello? Clancy, are you there?” Lamar hung up. “Well, I guess I can kiss off my free ticket to the next fireman’s ball.” He gave Zack a thoughtful frown. “Did you or Max have anything to do with this?”

“You underestimate your powers of persuasion,” Zack said.

“Yeah, could be.” He held out his hand. “Zack, it’s good to finally meet you. Sorry it took me so long for a face-to-face; as you can guess, I’ve been preoccupied.” They shook hands. Lamar gave him the once-over. “Who broke your arm and knocked you upside the head? Was it a woman? No, don’t tell me, it’s none of my business. And speaking of business, let’s get to it because these waders are hot.”

“Have you been fishing?”

“Oh, no, this is my disguise so Carl Lee Stanton won’t know the police are hanging around,” Lamar said. “I borrowed this truck from my cousin, and that old blue tick in the back belongs to my neighbor. This cap is mine though.”

“It’s a great disguise,” Zack said.

“While we’re on the topic of disguises, I should mention to you that only a couple of my key men know you’re FBI. We’re following the brother-in-law thing.”

“That’s good. Do you think you’re going to have enough people?”

“We’re working as fast as we can, Zack, what with all this craziness going on in town right now. I’ve had more domestic disputes, vandalisms, car accidents, you name it, in the last twenty-four hours than I usually have in six months. And now I’ve got half the force working roadblocks.”

“Where do we stand as of now?” Zack asked.

“The sheriff has deputies coming in from several other counties, the highway patrol will have more cars on the road, and Clancy is providing backup. Dang, I’ve got to get back and deputize some people.”

“I’ll be brief,” Zack said. “I just want to make sure we see eye to eye on how to best handle this.”

“Firm things up, so to speak,” Lamar added.

“As we discussed, no patrol cars on this street,” he said. “I don’t even want them in the neighborhood.”

Lamar nodded. “I read you loud and clear, Buddyroe. I’ve put unmarked cars and plainclothes officers in the vicinity, but you’ll be hard-pressed to find a cruiser.” He pulled a lime-green tackle box from behind his seat. “There’s a radio inside. Bottom line, nobody makes a move without your say-so.”

Zack gave him a curious look. “Are you always this agreeable?”

“We’re just two guys trying to do our jobs, right?” Lamar turned slightly in his seat. “You know, I thought about signing on with the FBI.”

“Yeah?”

Lamar nodded. “I’d been on the force a good five years, and things were pretty dull around here so I entertained the idea. Sent off for information. Matter of fact, it was the same year Carl Lee committed his crimes. I put in a lot of hours on the ATM robbery. They caught him a couple of days later in Virginia, of course. After he shot and killed that agent.”

Zack nodded and reached for the tackle box. “Well, I’d better get back—”

“I even took a week’s vacation and drove up to Virginia so I could watch some of the trial,” Lamar added.

Zack looked at him.

“I will never forget the look on the stepson’s face when Stanton got off with a life sentence. I have no sympathy for cop killers, know what I mean? Not one iota.” Lamar held out his hand. “Zack, it was nice meeting you.”

“Same here.” They shook hands once more. Zack climbed from the truck and watched Lamar drive away.

Maggie had finished putting away laundry, and Mel was reluctantly showing Jamie some of her latest artwork when the doorbell rang. Maggie and Zack met up in the living room.

“Check the peephole first,” he said as he looked through a slit in the living room drapes.

“It’s okay,” Maggie said. “Just my neighbors from across the street.” She opened the door. Ben and Lydia Green stood on the other side. Maggie smiled, unlocked the door, and opened it wide. “Come in,” she said, stepping aside so they could enter.

“We brought goodies,” Lydia announced. “My homemade chocolate chip cookies and a Coca-Cola cake,” she added. “I don’t dare keep them in the house on account of Ben’s diabetes.”

“Thank you!” Maggie said, her mouth watering at the sight of chocolate.

Mel suddenly appeared. “Uh-oh,” the girl said. “I’d better eat some quick before Mom adds it to her stash.” Lydia handed both containers to Mel, and she carried them into the kitchen.

“Didn’t you bake that for your granddaughter?” Maggie asked, remembering the six-year-old was due to fly in from Ohio the following day.

Lydia gave a sigh of disappointment. “Emmy is sick, bless her heart. It’s her tonsils again. But my daughter promised she could come at Thanksgiving so she’ll be able to see her new room after all.” Lydia looked at Zack. “My granddaughter loves Barbie. Maggie and Mel helped me decorate one of the guest rooms just for Emmy. Barbie stuff everywhere,” she added.

Maggie noticed Ben and Lydia darting looks at Zack and his injuries. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said and made the introductions, remembering to tell them Zack was her brother-in-law. “Zack is staying for a few days,” she added. She saw relief in Lydia’s eyes and knew she’d heard the news about Carl Lee.

Zack and Ben shook hands. “We’re the old fogies from across the street,” Ben said. He regarded Maggie. “So where did you get the goat?” he asked her.

“You remember Joe Higgins who dumped all the hens on me,” Maggie said, “and we spent the weekend building a chicken coop?”

“Oh, yeah. He must owe you money.”

“I don’t plan to keep her, of course,” Maggie told him. “For one thing, I don’t have a place for her. I hate keeping her tied to a tree, and I don’t like sticking her in a dark garage every night. I put an ad in the newspaper. Maybe I’ll hear something soon.”

“Tell you what,” Ben said. “If Zack is up to it, I’ve got a few posts we can stick in the ground and enough chicken wire to make a temporary pen. Won’t take but a couple of hours since I have a post-hole-digger,”

he added. “I’ve also got an old tarp I can throw over one corner to keep her dry in case it rains.”

“Oh, that’s too much trouble,” Maggie said.

Lydia waved off the remark. “Let him do it, hon. You know how Ben loves having projects, and it keeps him out of my hair.”

Ben looked at Zack. “If you’re willing and able we can get on it right away. You’ll have to help me carry things over.”

“Sure.” Zack turned to Maggie. “Just shout if you need me.”

“That’s one handsome brother-in-law you’ve got there,” Lydia said as the men hurried across the street. She smiled, but her eyes were troubled. “I’m very anxious for you and Mel after reading the newspaper this morning,” she said softly. “I would think you’d have police protection. Why aren’t they here?”

“I can’t go into details, Lydia, but Mel and I
are
being looked after. The police and FBI are doing everything possible to find Carl Lee Stanton.”

The woman still looked worried as she stepped outside. “If you need anything—”

“I know.” Maggie took her hand and squeezed it.

A moment later, Maggie found Jamie and Mel eating cake and cookies at the kitchen table. “You started without me?” She tried to sound hurt.

“Hey, I matched all the socks for you,” Jamie said. “I have to build up my strength.”

Maggie pulled a plate from a kitchen cabinet and grabbed a fork. Jamie and Mel watched her cut an enormous piece of cake. She looked up. “What?”

“Carl Lee, are you still mad?” Cook’s voice shook.

He’d barely dared to breathe during the five hours since one of the tires had blown on the car and sent them walking. He’d simply followed Carl Lee, no questions asked, through the wooded area that, to their advantage, had replaced cow pastures and would make detection by the police more difficult. Not to mention the fog that had rolled in shortly after and still hugged the road.

“Mad doesn’t come close to what I’m feeling,” Carl Lee finally said. “In fact, I’m about two seconds from putting a bullet between your eyes, and the longer I walk the more I think about it. Does that answer your question?”

Cook maintained a safe distance. “How was I supposed to know there wasn’t a spare in the trunk?”

Carl Lee let out a mouthful of cuss words. “I’m not listening to any more of your pissy excuses, you got that?” He checked his watch, and the scowl on his face turned menacing. “I can’t believe how much driving time we’ve lost because of your stupidity. How you managed to get an accounting degree
and
a job with a federal savings and loan is beyond me.”

“Maybe I’m smarter than you think,” Cook said. He suddenly stopped and gazed through the trees on the other side of the road. “Is that a water tower?” he asked.

“How the hell would I know? I can’t see my hand in front of my face.”

Cook hurried toward the edge of the trees. “Hell, yeah, that’s the Columbiana’s water tower,” he said in obvious delight. “I know right where we are. My friend Jonesy, or Reverend Jonesy, as they call him,” he added with a laugh, “lives a stone’s throw from it.”

“Great. You can stop in and ask him to save your soul before I put you out of your misery.”

Cook looked worried for a moment. “He’s not a
real
preacher, and he’s as crooked as my mama’s arthritic finger. He’d
sell
his mama if he could make five bucks. Trust me, he has spent a time or two behind bars. He’s a traveling preacher. If he’s not on the road he’ll give us something to eat.”

Carl Lee looked doubtful. “There’s probably a reward out for our capture,” he said. “I’m not taking any chances.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Carl Lee. Jonesy wouldn’t turn in a con. It wouldn’t be ethical. Besides, he’s rich. Made a buttload of money scamming truck drivers, leading them to Jesus,” he added. “And guess who showed him how to hide all that money? Yours truly, that’s who. And Jonesy has connections coming out the ying-yang. He might be able to find us a ride to Beaumont.”

Carl Lee seemed to ponder it. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll go by and see your friend, but if he even looks like he’s going to blow the whistle on us I’ll bury a bullet so deep they’ll never find it.”

They crossed the highway and picked their way through the woods. On the other side, they found a brand-new double-wide mobile home. Beside it sat an eighteen-wheeler, the words PRAYER MOBILE painted on the side.

“What’s
that
?” Carl Lee asked.

“That’s Jonesy’s traveling church,” Cook said. “He holds religious services at truck stops and roadside parks. Goes all over the country spreading the Good Word,” he added. “Truckers are very generous.”

A man’s voice called out to them from the mobile home. A shotgun poked from a window, trained on the men. Cook identified himself. A moment later a gray-haired man in black slacks, black shirt, and priest’s collar appeared at the door. He still held the rifle, even as he and Cook pumped hands enthusiastically. Cook introduced him to Carl Lee.

“CNN has been flashing pictures of you boys all day,” Jonesy said. “A motorist decided to take a leak in the woods along the side of the highway and almost tripped over your pal’s body. They found him several hours ago; ID’d him at the scene from a couple of tattoos.”

“We didn’t kill him,” Cook said. “He got hit by a guard during the escape.”

“Anyway, some kid heard about it and called the cops. Claims he ran into you guys last night.” Jonesy had to pause to catch his breath. He looked at Carl Lee. “Gave the make and model of the car and said you looked like Jerry Lewis in that professor movie,” he added.

“Uh-oh, there goes your disguise,” Cook said.

Carl Lee muttered a couple of four-letter words.

“Hold it right there, son,” Jonesy said. “This is the Lord’s house. We don’t use that kind of language.”

Carl Lee looked at Cook. “Is he for real?”

Cook nodded soberly before looking at Jonesy. “We don’t have the car anymore. The tire blew out. We were able to ride the rim to a dirt road and push it into a ravine. Hopefully nobody will see it for a while.”

Jonesy looked at Carl Lee. “I know what you did,” he said, “but God loves you anyway, and so do I. I’ll invite you in to break bread, but you’ll have to leave your gun outside. I don’t allow weapons in my home.”

Carl Lee looked pointedly at the rifle.

“This doesn’t count because it’s for protection,” Jonesy said. “A man has a right to protect his home.”

Cook pulled his gun from his waistband and put it on the front step. Finally, Carl Lee did the same.

“You boys hungry?” Jonesy asked when they stepped inside. “I’ve got a pot of red beans and rice on the stove.”