Page 132 of Blood Moon

He’s moving,” Mitch reported.

“Which direction?” John asked.

“West-southwest, toward us, which is good. But we conducted a raid in this vicinity a while back, and it was a nightmare. Rural. Lots of narrow roads branching off each other like freaking capillaries. Currently, though, I’m closing in on him on route thirty-four. If he stays on this road, he and I’ll meet soon.”

“How soon?” John asked.

“Maybe ten minutes.”

“I’ve been driving ninety, so we can’t be far behind you.” John gave him the state highway intersection he and Beth had just gone through.

Mitch said, “Then you’re almost to thirty-four. Start watching for it. It’ll be on your right. Badly marked, sharp turn.”

“Got it,” Beth said. She held up one of their phones where she’d pulled up GPS.

“If I meet him, do you want me to intercept?” Mitch asked.

“Negative. I hope he’s leading us to wherever he’s got Molly. Hook a U and follow him, but at a distance.”

“Don’t worry. He won’t know it, but I’ll be on him like white on rice.”

No sooner had Mitch disconnected than another of John’s phones rang. It was one of the officers who’d been assisting him. “We got a plate number on the car near the restaurant, ran it, belongs to Dr. Victor Wallace. That’s the guy, right?”

“That’s the guy. You just handed us probable cause to approach. Good work. Thank everybody for me.”

“Have you notified the sheriff’s office?”

“I was just about to.”

Beth shot him a quick look, aReally?implied in her expression.

“Good luck, Bowie,” the cop was saying. “We’re standing by if you need anything else.”

“Thanks.”

“Uh-oh,” the officer said in a low voice.

“What?”

“Barker just came in, looking thunderous.”

“Play dumb.”

“Ten four.”

As soon as they were disconnected, Beth said, “You’re not really going to notify the sheriff’s office, are you?”

“No. I don’t want a wet-behind-the-ears deputy to show up, lights flashing. This needs to be a surprise to the professor. If he senses he’s surrounded and has nothing to lose, he may—”

Beth pressed his knee. “Don’t say it. Or even think it.”

Tom stalked into the CAP unit, knowing his outrage only made his bruises more florid. It made the new goose egg on the side of his head throb. At the sight of him, people who’d been busy as bees stopped what they’d been doing. Everyone fell silent.

He walked to the center of the room, placed his hands on his hips, and pivoted in a circle, taking in every traitorous face. With deceptive calmness, he said, “I want to know. What. The. Fuck. Is going on?”

No one moved, no one said anything. Some even had the audacity to gaze back at him with defiance. “You think this little mutiny is going to intimidate me? Oh, no. All it’s going to accomplish is to get anyone who’s assisting Bowie fired. Now,” he said, hiking up his waistband, “who’s going to tell me what he’s up to this time?”

No one moved or spoke.

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