Page 84 of Forgotten Path
“Yeah. But I guess there’s been a break in the case.”
“What kind of break?”
“Uh, they found DNA or something in Doc’s Jeep. I don’t know the details.”
“Whose DNA? Ashland’s?”
“I don’t think so. They’d expect that. Someone else’s.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah. There’s a detective here from Sugarloaf Key now. She said they’ll probably be making an arrest within the day.”
“Jeez. That’s fast.”
“Yeah. They said something about an accomplice, too. Some guy in a blue pickup truck. I heard that detective woman tell the medical examiner that they’d be looking to offer him a deal if he testifies against the killer.”
“Is that it?”
“Pretty much. So, uh, how much is that worth to ya?”
“Always keeping your eye on the prize, huh? I respect that.” There was a rustling sound as Fred peeled bills off a roll. “Here’s the two from before and another three.”
“Five hundred? Man, thanks, Mr. Glazier. So should I keep poking around or …”
“No, I think we’re done. Like I told you, I wanted to know if the investigation was going to screw up Hornbill’s plan to unload those houses out on Emerald Road. And now I know.” He sighed.
“Yeah. Tough break. Listen, if you ever need anything else, call me.”
“I will, Craig. You can count on it. There’s something I need to take care of now. So, let yourself out, okay?”
“Sure, sure.” There was a short pause. Then Craig said, “I almost forgot. Chief Rodman and the detective chick were talking about a muddy blue truck somebody left outside town.”
“Did you hear whereabouts?” Fred’s words were urgent, rushed. The sound of a drawer opening and slamming shut resounded.
“Sorry, no.”
“No worries. See you around.”
A moment later, Craig emerged from the house. He paused under the side portico, and took a breath so deep that Bodhi saw his shoulders move. Then he started to run toward the car, babbling in Bodhi’s ear as he sprinted. “He got a gun from his coffee table after I told him about the muddy truck. I don’t think he’s going to get the truck.”
Craig thumbed off the recording device while Bodhi ripped the earpiece out of his ear and fumbled with his phone. He jabbed Felicia’s contact information. As soon as she answered, he began to speak.
“Fred went for it. But he’s not going to move the truck. I think he’s going to kill Chad. He’s armed.”
As Bodhi relayed this information, Craig wrenched open the car door and flung himself behind the seat. He started the engine and stared at Bodhi, awaiting instructions.
“Go back to the church,” Felicia rattled off orders to Bodhi through the speaker. “Let Chief Rodman’s secretary know. Her name is Lucinda. Craig’ll help you find her.”
“What about you?”
“We’re already at the old mill. We’re going to stick to the plan.”
“Felicia, be—”
“—I’m always careful, Bodhi. Go.”
Felicia ended the call as Glazier’s garage door rose, and the yellow sports car exploded out of the garage and rocketed down the driveway. Bodhi placed his phone in the center console and turned to Craig, who turned the key and started the ignition.
