Crouched down, the pair made their way over to Pete to see how badly he'd been hurt. "It's just a scratch," the officer said as he looked at the tear in the sleeve in his uniform.

"Let me look at that," Mike said as he examined the injury. "I think you're right - it's just a crease. Thank goodness for that," Mike continued as he grabbed a handkerchief from his coat and tied it around the officer's arm. "You okay to go on?"

"You bet," Pete said.

"Mike, we need to see where they went," Steve said, a bit relieved that someone else was the beneficiary of Mike's ministrations.

"They aren't going anywhere," Mike said. "The only way to leave this town is through the main highway. One way is through the mountains and the other way is back through the valley. She may try to head through the valley, but..."

"She?" Steve and Pete said in unison.

"I saw her. It was Florence Proxelheder."

"What?! That old bag finally did it, huh?" Pete asked incredulously.

"I know she was a miserable piece of work," Steve added, "but I can't fathom her with a gun."

"Pete, let's get back to your car and call in a request for the highway patrol to block the main road going in and out of here. I saw a late model blue Chrysler Newport with partial plates - California TDF," Mike said.

Steve looked over to his partner in wonder. "My eyes are getting old, Buddy boy, or I'd have seen the full plate."

"If the they've stayed in town, she'll have to be hiding him somewhere. He was cuffed and that won't be too easy to get off of him," Steve said after they finished their radio update with the California Highway Patrol as well as the county police.

"You know, she wasn't planning for this. My hunch is that she's swung by her house to grab a few things and they are on their way out of town." Pete agreed with Mike's logic and started to toward the driver's side.

"Your arm. I'll drive," Steve said as he hopped in. "I think I can find my way around."

"Let's swing by Proxelheder's house and then make our way to the valley side," Pete suggested.

Steve u-turned on the narrow street with tires screeching. Sitting in the back seat, Mike rolled his eyes and grabbed the back of the headrest. "Pete, you'll need to hang on. Steve only knows two speeds: fast and faster."

Within a couple of minutes, they were headed back down Jackson. Only a block in front of them, the trio saw a blue Chrysler Newport hurriedly coming out of a driveway.

"You called it, Mike," Steve said. "There they go."

"We don't need to break any speed records, Steve. Let's just follow them and see where they are headed. If they are taking the main highway out of town, we can radio ahead for a roadblock."