Dead Even - Mariah Stewart [108]
“Unless one of the three arranged for a fourth to sort of oversee the game, make sure it was played out.”
“But who could have done that? Channing had already played out his piece before Giordano was released from prison, and Archer was still behind bars when Vince was doing his thing,” Miranda reminded him.
“Good point. Think there’s any chance we can get Vince to fill in the blanks?”
“Yeah, fat chance. Same as they always are with him.”
“Well, right now we’ve got the Plainsville police canvassing the area; we’ve got tests being run on the bullets. Guess we’ll have to wait and see what turns up from either source.”
“Let me know what you hear.” She sighed. “This is really crazy, isn’t it? For just a split second, I felt relieved. Like I can stop looking over my shoulder. Archer’s not coming after me. Then up pops the specter of some unknown someone who might be keeping the game going.”
“Let’s see what ballistics comes back with.”
“Right. Thanks. Keep in touch.”
Will slid his walkie-talkie into his hip pocket and walked to the kitchen. He stood at the window and slowly pulled the curtain back enough to allow him to look outside. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just another cold fall night. Leaves lay scattered across the lawn and part of the sidewalk. A car door slammed across the street, and a young couple got out and walked to a front porch. At the bottom of the steps, the boy waited while the girl searched her pockets for keys. Feeling a bit like a voyeur, Will watched them kiss hastily, then the girl ran up the steps and unlocked the door. She turned back toward the street and waved before going into the house and closing the door behind her. The boy gunned the engine before he pulled away from the curb, then disappeared around the first bend in the road.
A few more moments of silence, then a car or two passed. Someone out for a walk strolled by, then crossed the street and disappeared down the driveway of the house at the end of the block. Silence again.
Will opened his cell phone and checked his messages. He returned one call immediately, listened to the information he was given, voiced his thanks, and hung up.
He began pacing again, not sure what to do with the information he’d just been given, or what it meant. He’d only known that all of his senses had gone on alert when he’d seen that black truck drive past Mara’s house two days ago. There’d been a truck just like it parked outside the prison when he and Miranda had come out after visiting Giordano. The driver’s face had been hidden behind a map, which in itself had aroused Will’s interest. Who could read something that was right in their face like that?
No one he knew.
And when an identical truck passed by shortly after he and Miranda had arrived here in Lyndon, Will’s keen eye had picked up the license plate number and called it in to Evan at the county detectives’ bureau and asked him to run a trace.
Now he had a name, but it wasn’t one he recognized.
Burton Connolly. Who the hell was he?
Will was counting on Evan to find out.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
He walked along the back of the properties, counting over four from the end, observing the changes that had been made while he was gone. He stared at the fence that carved out the backyard of number 1733. Seven years ago, there had been no fence. From the other side, he heard a long low growl.
Seven years ago, there had been no dog.
It occurred to Jules Douglas that perhaps she’d moved, but then, he knew better. Mara would never leave this house. She’d stay here, weeping and mourning her loss, until the day she died. He’d bet she’d made a shrine out of Julianne’s room.
He paused. Odd, how quickly he’d lapsed back into thinking