Backtracker (73 page)

Dave
didn
'
t
want to endanger his friend; the whole plan was designed to
protect
Billy, so Dave certainly
didn
'
t
want to drag him into what could be very hazardous proceedings. Larry had said that he
wouldn
'
t
hurt or kill Billy, that he
couldn
'
t
kill him, but Larry had already proven himself a liar.

Still, how could Dave hope to keep Billy out of it? For that matter, how could he prevent Billy from going to the cops, effectively scuttling the entire scheme?

Once Billy woke, he would immediately want to seek out the police. How could Dave stop him? Tie him up and hide him somewhere? Even if
he had
no compunctions about binding and stashing Billy for a while, how could Dave explain it afterward? And what if Dave was killed before he could send someone to free his friend? If Billy was tied
-
up and hidden in the woods and nobody knew where he was, he would receive a death sentence as real as a date with the electric chair.

Could he leave Billy unconscious in the trench, just take the car and run for it? That would buy some time, maybe enough to get the plan underway; Billy would have a long walk home. Of course, maybe Billy was more seriously injured than he appeared to be, would need medical attention when he regained consciousness. Maybe, he
wasn
'
t
injured at all, but would quickly hitch a ride to town and get to the cops in time to ruin Dave
'
s plan.

No, Dave
couldn
'
t
tie up his friend or leave him alone in the cleft. It seemed that there was only one thing that he could do: take Billy along on the hunt.

He would have to carefully manipulate Billy with lies, feed him a story which would convince him to accompany Dave instead of seeking the police. As soon as Dave got close to Larry, he would ditch his friend, somehow lose him before the fireworks started. By that time, even if Billy went to the cops, it would hopefully not make any difference; Dave could advance on the killer, play out his plan, and Billy would be out of the line of fire.

No question, it would be a difficult proposition. As skeptical and perceptive as Billy was, fooling him for an extended period
wouldn
'
t
be a cakewalk; Dave would have to anticipate his every inquiry, concoct perfectly logical lies which would evaporate his every doubt...never letting him in on the crazy time
-
travel story. Once involved, Billy
wouldn
'
t
be easy to lose; Dave would have to contrive some truly remarkable maneuver to unhook his tenacious friend.

There would be some rough sailing ahead, to say the least. Still, Dave could think of no viable alternative, no other way to keep Billy safe and away from the cops at the same time.

On the floor of the rift, Billy shifted again, twitched an arm and a leg as if he sensed his friend
'
s intentions. Pulse instantly accelerating, Dave stopped pacing and watched for more movement; there was none, but Dave guessed that the latest flicker heralded an incipient awakening.

Soon, he thought, Billy would come to...but that was okay. The decisions had been made; for better or worse, Dave knew what he would do.

He would go after Larry Smith. He would take Billy with him, then lose him at the appropriate time. He would try to talk Larry into sparing the next victim. If Larry
wouldn
'
t
cooperate, or if he made a hostile move, the cops would be called into the fray.

It was settled. The choices had been made.

He would go after Larry Smith.

How?

How
would he go after Larry Smith?

How could he hope to
find
the killer?

All that Dave knew was that Larry was going after the guy from out of town who would supposedly frame Billy for murder. Larry had said that he was leaving Confluence, heading for the out
-
of
-
towner
'
s domain; that, however, could be just about anywhere.
"
Out of town
"
; that was the only clue.

Frowning, Dave leaned a shoulder against the wall of the cleft, tried to figure out what Larry
'
s next stop might be. It
didn
'
t
seem possible to guess the killer
'
s destination; still, Dave had to try to narrow down the choices.

According to Larry, though the next victim was from out of town,
he'd
been, or would be, familiar with the local area. In Larry
'
s story, the out
-
of
-
town guy had led the robbery of a Confluence bookie; the guy had had dealings with the bookie, and the bookie had crossed him, offended him enough to make him want to kill the bookie and his whole family. Larry had said that the out
-
of
-
towner had known the layout of the bookie
'
s home, had known it well enough to slip inside, lead his accomplices to the money, quickly find and murder the family.

If the out
-
of
-
towner had known the bookie and his home so well, he must have associated with the bookie extensively; therefore, the out
-
of
-
towner must have been in the Confluence area often, must not have come from too far away. Dave thought that was a reasonable assumption.

If the out
-
of
-
towner
didn
'
t
live a great distance from Confluence, then what was his point of origin? Perhaps, he lived an hour from Confluence, or two or three; with a driving time of three hours or less, it was conceivable that he could frequent the area with little inconvenience. There was a lot of territory within a three
-
hour drive of Confluence, though, a lot of communities within the likely radius.

There were a number of sizable cities within a three
-
hour drive; perhaps, the
out
-
of
-
towner could be found in one of them. Pittsburgh was two hours to the west, Harrisburg three hours to the east; Baltimore and Washington D.C. were a little over three hours to the southeast.

Abruptly, it occurred to Dave that Larry
'
s next victim might not even
be
out of town, after all. Perhaps, Larry had lied about the guy, had once again attempted to misdirect and confuse.

If the next victim was a local resident, that would explain how
he'd
known
--
or would know
--
the bookie and his home so well. Such a scenario would also explain why Larry had been so adamant about keeping Dave from going to the police; if Larry
'
s quarry was in the immediate area, the killer could be thwarted more easily than if he were on an out
-
of
-
town hunt.

Yes; it was possible that Larry would commit his next murder in or near Confluence. Dave
didn
'
t
find it difficult to believe that Larry had lied about his next destination, planted a false lead to deter intervention.

Of course, it was also possible that Larry
had
planned to leave the area, that he
hadn
'
t
lied about going out of town.

Larry might still be in Confluence.

He might also be on his way to Pittsburgh or Harrisburg, Baltimore or Washington, just about anywhere.

Anywhere; Larry might be anywhere.

As hard as he tried, Dave
couldn
'
t
winnow the possibilities, determine the most likely location. He
didn
'
t
know where he should go; though
he'd
decided what course of action he would take, he could do nothing if he
didn
'
t
know where to find Larry.

He needed more information. He needed some kind of clue, something to point him in the right direction.

Perhaps...

Perhaps, Larry had left something behind. Maybe, in his tussle with Billy, something had fallen from one of his pockets. Even in the heat of a struggle, it hardly seemed possible that Larry would be careless, that anything would get past him...but maybe...

Immediately, Dave began to search the rift. At first, he just made a cursory scan, slowly walked around Billy and the area in which Larry had stood during his speech.

After a few minutes, when nothing had caught his eye, Dave dropped to his hands and knees. Crawling along, he stared at the dirt, brushed his hands over it in the hope that he might uncover something. The only thing that he found was more dirt.

Rising, he examined the walls of the rift, methodically pored over every crease and recess in the stone. He covered a long section of the trench, went up one side and down the other...and again, he found nothing.

For a moment, he paused in his search. Hands on his hips, he shook his head and sighed with frustration; without a clue to Larry
'
s destination, he
couldn
'
t
proceed with his plan...but he was beginning to think that there was no clue to be found.

Where else could he look?

Perhaps, there was something underneath Billy, concealed by his body. Dave
didn
'
t
dare try to move his friend, though; he
didn
'
t
want to risk waking him one moment early, one second before Billy would come around on his own.

With another sigh, Dave cast his eyes upward...and then
he had
a thought. Maybe, Larry had dropped something above, on the rim of the cleft; in clambering out of the cut in the stone, he might have deposited something, lost it on the surface instead of in the fissure.

Boosting himself from the rift, Dave set about scouring the rim. Slowly, he plodded alongside the crevice, eyes trained downward, inspecting the pale stone.

When
he'd
examined most of the length of one rim, he hopped over a narrow segment of the break and concentrated on the other side.
He had
no success there, either; the smooth stone surrounding the trough was absolutely bare.

With a long, despairing sigh, he finally stopped hunting, stood straight and gazed over the plateau. Flat and nearly featureless, the stone formation spread before him, a tablet as blank as his mind was at that moment.

He was stymied; it seemed that Larry had beaten him, forced a checkmate at last. If he
didn
'
t
know where to find the killer, Dave could hardly enact his plan,
couldn
'
t
prevent Larry from killing again.

Arms hanging limply at his sides, Dave tried to accept the dispiriting conclusion of his struggle. Exhausted in every way, completely wrung
-
out, he wondered what the aftermath would bring, how he could possibly trawl up the strength to deal with any of it.

Then, he remembered the faceless kid.

The other trench; he
hadn
'
t
yet searched the other trench, the one which held the faceless kid.

There might be a clue in that trench. Great violence had occurred there, a savage attack; if Larry had dropped anything that day, he would most likely have done so during his brutal exercise with the kid.

Timidly, Dave looked toward the terrible site. From his vantage point, that trench
didn
'
t
appear especially threatening; it looked much the same as any of the other fissures, just another crack in the stone.

Still, the impression of innocence was fleeting. Though his eyes showed him an undefiled cleft, Dave
'
s memory provided a far stronger and more disturbing vision.

Red and white and red and red.

Most of the face was gone.

Glistening.

Surely, he
couldn
'
t
go back there.