And until this moment he had not been sure which it would be. Now he
could not understand why he had ever been in doubt.
When it was kill or be killed, even a non-violent man could act to save
himself.
Expressionlessly Leland bent down and grabbed hold of the dead man’s
ankles, dragged him around to the open door of the squad car.
The short-wave radio in there was sputtering noisily. Leland heaved the
corpse inside, let it slump over the steering wheel. But that was no
good. Even from a distance the man looked dead. Aware that he would
have to completely conceal it, Leland pushed the body across the vinyl
seat and climbed into the car after it.
He touched the steering wheel, unaware he was leaving fingerprints.
He touched the back of the vinyl seat.
Oblivious to the thickening blood, he bent the dead man’s ruined face
down to his knees, then shoved the compacted hulk onto the floor in
front of the passenger’s seat.
Inadvertently he touched the window on that side of the car, pressing
all five fingers firmly to the glass.
He had to force the corpse to slip halfway back into the cavity beneath
the dashboard, but when he was done he was confident that no one would
find the body unless they opened the door looking for it.
Climbing out, he touched the bench of the vinyl seat.
He touched the steering wheel again.
He closed the door, fingers clasped around the chrome handle.
It never occurred to him that he ought to take a rag and wipe down
everything that he had touched. Already he had half forgotten the dead
man crammed in the corner of the official car.
He went back to the van and got in and closed the door. On the highway,
traffic flashed by, casting off a golden shower of late-afternoon
sunlight. For ten minutes or more Leland watched the road, waiting for
the Thunderbird to pass.
With his physical attention focused on so small an area, his thoughts
drifted until they eventually settled on the young waitress who had
served him at the diner, the girl with the rabbits and chipmunks on her
uniform. Now he saw why she had confused and upset him. With her long
natural-platinum hair and elfin features, she looked a little bit like
Courtney. Not much, but some. Therefore she had precipitated his
spell. He knew ‘ now, that he did not want to put his knife into her,
had never wanted to put his knife into her. He did not want to make
love to her, either. Indeed, he had no interest in that girl at all.
He was strictly a one-woman man.
He cared only for his lovely Courtney.
As quickly as his thoughts passed from the waitress to Courtney, they
flicked from Courtney to Doyle and the boy. Leland was shocked at the
suddenly perceived possibility that the Thunderbird had passed while he
was putting the dead trooper into the squad car. Perhaps they had gone
by twenty minutes ago. They could be miles and miles out in front of
him . . .
What if Doyle changed his intended route?
What if he did not follow the road that was marked on his map?
Leland felt a hard lump of fear rise in his throat.
if he lost Doyle and the kid, wouldn’t he be losing Courtney? If he
lost Courtney, lost his way to Courtney, hadn’t he then lost everything?
Droplets of sweat standing out on his broad forehead despite the air
conditioning, he slipped the van in gear and backed out of there.
The front wheels arced through the bloodied gravel. He shifted into
drive and took the Chevrolet out of the rest area. The dome light on
the squad car still went around and around, but Leland was not aware of
that. There was no reality for him except the road ahead and the
Thunderbird which must be even now escaping from him.
‘Woo Three When they had been back on the road for fifteen minutes
after their lunch break and still the rented Chevrolet van had not
appeared in the rear-view mirror, Doyle stopped watching for it.