As Sidney moved forward again, her foot caught on something covered by
the snow. She bent down to see what it was, and the words of the young
policeman came back to her. There are things everywhere. Every where.
She froze, but then continued to search with the innate curiosity of
human beings. A moment later she was running down the dirt road, her
feet fumbling and slipping in the snow, her arms jerking awkwardly
forward, violent sobs exploding from her lungs.
She never saw the man until she collided headlong into him, buckling his
legs. They both went down, he as surprised as she, perhaps even more
so.
“Damn,” Lee Sawyer grunted as he landed on a clod of dirt, the wind
knocked out of him. Sidney, however, was on her feet in a second and
continued sprinting down the twisting path. Sawyer started to go after
her until his knee locked, a recurring condition compliments of his
chasing down an athletic bank robber on hard pavement for twenty long
blocks many years before. “Hey,” he yelled after her as he awkwardly
hopped around on one foot, rubbing at his knee. He shone his flashlight
in her direction.
When Sidney Archer turned her head, he caught her profile in the arc of
the light. A second later he snatched a glimpse of her horror-filled
eyes. Then she was gone. He gingerly stepped over to the area where he
had first spotted her. He shone his flashlight on the ground. Who the
hell was she and what was she doing up here?
Then he shrugged. Probably a curious area resident who had seen
something she wished she hadn’t. A minute later Sawyer’s light
confirmed his suspicions. He bent down and picked up the small shoe.
It looked tiny and helpless in his big paw. Sawyer looked back in
Sidney Archer’s direction and sighed deeply in the darkness. His large
body began to tremble in almost uncontrollable rage as he stared at the
terrible hole in the earth dead ahead. He fought back an urge to scream
at the top of his lungs. There had only been a handful of times in his
career with the FBI that Lee Sawyer wanted to deny the persons he had
run to ground the opportunity of a trial by their peers. This was one
of those times. He silently prayed that when he did find those
responsible for this horrendous act of violence, they would try
something, anything that would provide him with the tiniest fraction of
an opening, allowing him to spare the country the cost and media circus
any such trial would entail. He slipped the shoe into his coat pocket
and, nursing his injured knee, walked off to check in with Kaplan. Then
he would head back to town. He had an appointment in Washington that
afternoon. His investigation of Arthur Lieberman would now start in
earnest.
A few minutes later, Officer McKenna looked anxiously at Sidney as he
helped her out of the patrol car. “Ms. Archer, are you sure you don’t
want me to call somebody to come get you?”
Sidney, eggshell pale, limbs convulsing, her hands and clothes dirty
from where she had fallen, shook her head hard. “No! No! I’m all
right.” She leaned up against the cruiser. Her arms and shoulders still
twitched involuntarily, but at least her balance had somewhat
stabilized. She closed the door of the police cruiser and started to
walk unsteadily toward her Ford. She hesitated and then turned around.
Officer McKenna was beside his cruiser, watching her closely.
“Eugene?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You were right …. It’s not a place where you should stay too long.”
The words were said in the hollow tone of one entirely vacant of spirit.
She turned and slowly walked toward the Ford and got in.
Deputy Eugene McKenna.slowly nodded, his prominent Adam’s apple sliding
quickly up and down as he briefly fought the tears welling in his eyes.
He opened the door of the police cruiser and fell rather than sat in the
front seat. He closed the door so the sounds he was about to make would
go no farther.
As Sidney retraced her route back, the cellular phone in her car buzzed.