Along the way, Decker bought some cheap long-sleeved shirts and a pack of undershirts and a big can of spray-on bug repellent at a local Walmart. No sense getting his dress shirt and jacket stained with copious amounts of sweat. He had dressed himself in layers—undershirt, body armor, top shirt—and the heat was seeping into his skin like a slow-spreading fire. He had grown up in Gainesville, Florida, not noted for its cool weather, but this was something different. The air was stagnant with a blanket that was oppressive, thick and unrelenting, similar to the ’Nam jungles in the summer. Except here no one was shooting at him.
Not yet at least.
Harriet was driving, and, lucky her, she got the lion’s share of the AC. The two detectives sat in the back, having to make do with an occasional whiff of cold air. Tyler was a steady stream of perspiration dripping from his forehead. His expressive eyes pleaded: I wanna go home! Instead, he whispered to Decker, “No wonder they’re called the flyover states.”
“Sure, just dismiss an entire part of the country,” Decker said. “Where’s your mettle, Harvard?”
“It melted about twenty minutes ago.”
Harriet said, “You two okay back there?”
“We’re fine,” Decker said.
“Liar,” McAdams whispered. “Do we have a strategy going forward, boss?”
“Yeah. Don’t get shot.” Decker looked out the side window. The natural greenery was dark and wet, the ground hosting patches of low-level stagnant pools and ponds, the terrain heavy with trees: swamp tupelo, locust, sweet gum, hickory, and bald cypress with their knobby knees protruding from the water. The road was paved but barely so, with holes of missing asphalt. Vapor was shimmering off the tar.
Twenty minutes later, as the vegetation thickened, Harriet turned into a rutted path and parked the car. She killed the motor. “His trailer’s up there.”
Decker looked over the front passenger seat and out the windshield. “I can’t see it.”
“Yeah, but he can see you.”
McAdams said, “It’s stifling in here.”
“Sorry.” Harriet rolled down the windows. “I’d leave the motor on for the AC but it’ll make him suspicious. You can hear everything from up there.”
“We’re fine without the AC.”
“Speak for yourself,” McAdams grumbled.
“Let me go up first,” Harriet said. “See if I can talk some reason into him. If not . . .” A long sigh. “I suppose at that point, it’s your call.”
Decker’s face glistened with sweat. “Go for it.”
Harriet opened the car door. Within a minute she had disappeared among the trees.
“I dunno which is worse,” McAdams said. “Getting shot or dehydrating to death. You know, wet heat is way worse than dry heat?”
“I did know that.” Decker slid into the front passenger seat, squeezing his big body through the small open space. Once there, he crouched down, eyes remaining focused through the front windshield.
McAdams said, “I got a bad feeling about this. Maybe we should have called the local law enforcement. I mean, what are the odds that after hiding for ten years, McCrae is going to talk to us?”
“Not very good.”
“Yeah, not very good.” McAdams exhaled angrily. “I know you think you owe the Velasquezes and the Andersons the truth, but is it worth a bullet hole?”
“You’re thinking bad juju. Drink some water. Dehydration is the enemy.”
He took a swig from a thermos bottle. “It’s probably cooler outside than inside.”
“Probably. But until we know what’s happening, we’re staying inside. Sweating isn’t lethal.”
“That’s what you think.”
The car turned quiet. Stayed that way for another five minutes.
Decker sat up. “I think I see them.”
“Them?”
“Maybe it’s just her. Get down, Tyler. I don’t know if he’s following her or if it’s a setup.”
He obeyed. “You think she’d let him use her as a shield?”
“Don’t know.” Decker slid out of view from the windshield. He took out his weapon. When McAdams did the same, Decker said, “You just stay down, okay?”
“And let you have all the fun?” A minute later: “What’s going on?”
“She’s just walking down the hillside.”
“Maybe he isn’t inside the trailer.”
“Maybe.” Decker slowly raised his head so he could see out the windshield. “I want to wait until she’s closer.”
“Wait for what?”
“Hold on, Tyler. Give me a few more seconds . . .” A pause. When she was around a hundred feet away, Decker said, “Stay down, Tyler. I’m going for it.” He threw open the passenger door and used it for protection. He called out loud, “Harriet?”
She stopped immediately.
“Anyone with you?”
“Nope.”
“What’s going on?”
She looked around. “Can’t see you. Come out from hiding. He’s not with me.”
Decker wasn’t sure he believed her. He began to stand from a squat, his eyes scanning the area left to right, right to left. Nothing but trees and brush: the forest hid a lot. When Harriet was around ten to fifteen feet away, he told her to stop walking. “Where’s Bennett?”
“Up in his trailer. He said he’d talk to you. But you’ve got to come to him. He refuses to leave.”
“Then we have a problem.”
“Can I move? I don’t like to shout from a distance.”
“Yes, but walk slowly.” When Harriet was at the car, Decker said, “You’ve got to talk him into coming down here, or else I have to call the police.”
“He’s not going to agree to that, Detective. I can only push him so far.”
“Bennett has firearms. You tell me he’s mentally unstable. That means I can’t go up there. He’s got to come down.”
“He won’t do it.” Harriet had tears in her eyes. “Detective, he said he’d talk to you. But he’s only comfortable talking where he can see everything. He thinks you’re setting him up.”
“And I think he’s setting me up. If I start up the hill, Bennett can pick me off with a simple scope.”
“How about if I stand in front of you?”
“I’m taller than you. And I don’t want you picked off either.”
“He wouldn’t hurt me.” She looked up at the sky and wiped sweat from her forehead. “He’s rational today.”
“What do you mean by that?” McAdams asked.
“It means he knows what’s going on. Unfortunately, that isn’t always the case.” She looked at the detectives. “If we leave now without seeing him, he’s either going to run away or kill himself. How long do you think he’d last in this heat?”
“He lasted ten years, running away from what happened,” McAdams said.
Decker’s head was whirling. “Okay, Harriet, this is what I want you to do. I want you to go back up there. How long does it take you to walk back up?”