Chapter Three

Lew only stopped to catch his breath when he dove into what seemed to be an abandoned barn. Finding nothing living present, he crept into the darkest corner and drew his cellphone out of his pocket. If he could call for help from the state police, maybe he would be out of this mess before long.

But he soon scowled in frustrated disgust. Of course it wasn't going to be that easy; No Signal flashed across the screen. He was too far out in the sticks to possibly hope for communication. Oh, he was sure someone else from Intertect would come out eventually, but for all he knew, that might be too late for him.

Balancing the phone on top of a horse's stall for a smidgen of light, he turned his attention to his arm. The bullet had just grazed him, really, and the memory of something he had said to Joe after being shot in a similar manner came to his mind.

"It's not even bad enough to be heroic."

"Well, just grit your teeth and no one will know."

Lew had to smile in the dark as he started to peel off his suit coat. Joe was always ready with some kind of quip.

He sobered in the next moment. Where was Joe right now? Was he alive?

He couldn't believe anything these people had told him. The telegram had been a trap; they had wanted him to come.

But how far did the trap extend? Was Gus an innocent victim, a way they had thought to ensnare Lew's best friend and then Lew himself? Or could Gus be part of it all? Maybe they had paid him if he would agree to help.

Lew hated to think that. Gus really didn't seem the type; he was too scatter-brained and paranoid. But even people Lew had trusted had deceived him. People such as Fred Restin.

For that matter, when a long-time, trusted employee like Restin had turned traitor, even Joe potentially could . . .

No! Joe was not like Fred Restin and never would or could be. He was a true friend and had proved himself time and time again. If he was involved in this, it was only because the townspeople had ganged up on him and abducted him . . . or worse.

Lew clenched his teeth against the sting as he finally got his suit coat off and could better examine the scratch in his arm. He was going to believe that Joe was alive until he had confirmation of the death.

And if Joe possibly wasn't alive, well . . . anyone responsible for that was going to regret it.

A rustle somewhere in the barn made him freeze before he could try wrapping his handkerchief around the injury. He was not alone in here, as he had thought and hoped. He wasn't going to believe it was Joe, although he couldn't help hoping. Maybe, possibly, there was an animal in here he had overlooked. Or maybe it was one of the townspeople out to get him.

Could they even move so stealthily, though? He had the feeling they were the types who would mostly clomp around to deliberately announce their presence and try to arrogantly strike fear into their enemies' hearts.

He jumped a mile when a pitchfork appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He only barely dived out of the way as it slammed into the wall. Grabbing his phone, he shined it in the direction from which the makeshift weapon had come.

A young girl with dull and short brown hair squinted in the light. "You're Wickersham, aren't you?" It was said matter-of-factly and without surprise.

"That's right," Lew confirmed. He stayed on guard, reaching to grab the pitchfork down when she made no motion to do so.

He raised an eyebrow when she outright ignored his attempt to take the sharp object and let him go ahead. "Aren't you anxious to lynch me too?" he asked. "Especially considering how you threw this?"

She shrugged and walked away, settling on an empty metal container that had once held milk. "This town is so full of hate it doesn't know up from down," she said. "I don't know whether to say those five men didn't deserve to die, or Burton Davis, for that matter. But I do know that going after you because of it is ridiculous. How they could expect you to cover for a bunch of murders like that is just . . ." She shook her head. "It's not like you'd have any ties to the place to make you think about doing it. And you're too honest to be bought, aren't you?"

Lew let go of the pitchfork but stayed by it as he resumed trying to affix the handkerchief over the broken skin. "Yes," he said emphatically.

"Did they try?"

"The mayor did. He offered me ten thousand dollars to keep it quiet. Coming to think about it . . ." Lew looked up with a start. "When the entire town had to pool its resources to send Davis to medical school, how would the mayor just happen to have ten thousand dollars in his safe?"

The girl was still unsurprised. "Probably some illegal deal. Folks here get away with most everything they want to. Nobody tries to stop them; they're all so interested in keeping the town going that nothing else matters."

"Yes, I got that impression." Lew clenched his teeth in pained frustration when he could not fumble the handkerchief's ends into a proper knot.

Finally the girl noticed and got up. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, walking over to him. "You're hurt." She took hold of his arm, examining the wound. "It doesn't look too bad, but it should be cleaned properly so it doesn't get infected. I'll take you back to my place and see about that for you. And meanwhile, I'll tie this on." She took the handkerchief and expertly fastened it over the injury.

"Thank you," Lew said, but felt wary. "Won't they want to lynch you too, if you help me?"

"Probably," she replied in a most unconcerned tone. "But that's nothing new. I don't really belong in this place. I don't fit in with all the hate. I was hoping I could find you before they did, actually, especially after I heard you'd got away from them."

Lew slipped his phone in his pocket and draped his suit coat over his good arm. "If you don't mind my asking, why do you stay in this town if you don't belong?"

She pulled the pitchfork out of the wall now, presumably to take it with them for defense. "Haven't you ever stayed where you didn't belong?" she said vaguely.

"Sometimes, I suppose," Lew said. "But I usually tried to get out as soon as possible."

"You're lucky," she said. As she started to lead him towards the door, she continued over her shoulder, "I'm Jenny, by the way. And it's not so easy for me to get out—not when I'm the sheriff's daughter."

Lew rocked back in disbelief. "You?"

She glanced back at him. "Like I said, I don't fit in."

"No," Lew agreed. "No, you don't." And he was grateful for that. At least there was some reprieve from an immediate hanging.

But for now, he would stay on his guard anyway. Just in case.

xxxx

Joe was tense as he drove down the isolated road into the woodsy area where the Pine towns were. He passed Pine Cone, which was wreathed in darkness, and then frowned to himself after another mile. Lew should have found his car farther along the road. When he had, he should have called in to Intertect. But there had been no communication from Chris or anyone else to tell him that Lew had checked in.

Nor was there any car. He slowed to a halt, staring at the vacant stretch of road in disbelief. This was definitely where he had been forced to stop when the loose tire had bounced free; he remembered the big boulder at the foot of the electricity tower. Now there was nothing, not even tire tracks.

He grimaced. They had taken his car away, probably complete with the right size tire. They hadn't wanted Lew or anyone else to find it. But why? What on Earth was going on? Why did they want Lew to think Joe was dead?

In desperation Joe again called both Lew's car phone and his cellphone. Of course there was no answer either place, but this time Joe opted to leave a message on Lew's voicemail, something he rarely did since he detested talking to machines.

"Lew? Look, I'm alive and just fine. I don't know what's going on here, but maybe by now you do. Hang in there, okay?" He hesitated. In case someone else might be listening to the message, he didn't like to say that he was coming in, but if this was some elaborate plot, he had to assume that they were expecting him anyway. "I've called the state police," he said cleverly. "I've talked to the head of the Highway Patrol, Dan Mathews. He's sending some of his best boys out there."

It wasn't quite true, but Joe had had occasion to run across Mathews before, and he was certain that Mathews would be interested and willing to help however he could, once Joe really did call and tell him what was wrong.

"I'll see you soon, Lew," he said, and ended the message.

Soon he was driving again, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. Part of him was almost afraid to know what was wrong. The only reason he could think of as to why the sheriff had sent Lew a purposely-false message was that he must want to lead Lew into a trap. And what for? When had Lew ever come into contact with anyone from that town?

Hey, that was a good question. He grabbed the phone again. "Chris?" he greeted when he was put in touch with Intertect. "Have you guys been running down any connections Lew might possibly have with Pine Lake or anyone from there?" Knowing Intertect, he would be surprised if they hadn't been peppering their beloved supercomputers with such instructions.

"We have, actually," Chris said. She definitely sounded worried. "I was just about to call you, Mr. Mannix."

"Well, lay it on me," Joe frowned, bracing himself for the worst.

"Mr. Wickersham investigated and testified against Pine Lake's would-be town doctor a year ago," Chris replied. "He was recently executed for the five murders he committed."

"Five?" Joe said in disbelief. "Why didn't I know about this case?"

"I think you were on assignment elsewhere. You still should have heard at least a bit about it, but Mr. Wickersham tried to keep you and the other Intertect agents out of it. It was his case, and for safety's sake he didn't want to involve anyone who didn't have to be." Chris sounded both loyal and sad.

Joe let out a frustrated breath. "Yeah. He's like that." And he knew that sometimes he could become so caught up in his own problems that he didn't pay attention to Lew's, such as when he hadn't realized that Lew was ill and irrational due to a bad reaction to a prescription. So perhaps his lack of knowledge was partially his own fault, as well.

He shook himself back to the present. "So what's the deal? Was someone in Pine Lake a loyal family member or friend of this doctor and now wants to get even with Lew?"

"It could be," Chris replied. "He did have a girlfriend—Jenny Algers, the sheriff's daughter."

Joe swore in his mind. "I still can't reach Lew on the phone. I should be coming up on Pine Lake soon. If you don't hear from me in an hour, you'd better call the state police."

"Alright. Oh, and Mr. Mannix, there was one other thing. The arresting officer for the doctor? It says his name was Marcus Fair."

Joe gripped the steering wheel, displeased. "So if this is a plot, he'll probably be targeted as well," he worried.

"Maybe. The report says that the charges probably would have been reduced or even dropped if not for Mr. Wickersham's testimony. He was the district attorney's star witness."

"What about the D.A. himself?" Joe frowned. "He could also potentially be a target."

"Potentially," Chris agreed. "But if he is, they haven't made a move on him yet. Mr. Hamilton Burger is safe at home in bed."

"I suppose the computers checked on that," Joe said wryly.

Chris ignored that. She didn't spar with Joe over the usefulness of the computers the way Lew did. "I really think that Mr. Wickersham is the only person they're focusing on right now. Officer Fair is about to go off-duty and home to his wife."

"See that he gets there safe, won't you?" Joe stared ahead. "I have to go; the turn-off sign for Pine Lake is easy to miss, especially in the dark."

"Alright. Good luck, Mr. Mannix." Chris paused. "Please bring Mr. Wickersham back alive."

"That's sure what I'm aiming for," Joe said, and hung up.

The turn-off for Pine Lake was just ahead, to his left. He quickly made the turn, keeping alert as he traveled up the dirt road. What would he find at the end of the path? Lew's car? Lew?

Lew could hold his own in a fight, as Joe had known from the very first time they had met. But if someone like the doctor's girlfriend had hired some thugs or gotten some friends from town to gang up on Lew at once, he might not stand a chance. No one could always come out on top in a fight, after all. Not even Joe Mannix.

But hopefully, at least, even if Lew was hurt, Joe would get there in time to keep him alive.