Gabriel nodded. It meant no confirmation of death. Chandler would have to assume Heath had survived. The lack of clarity was frustrating. He would need to organize a hunt for an injured man; a hunt through that forest. But if Gabriel had made it to town in a few hours it meant that Heath couldn’t be that far in. There was a possibility of finding him, saving him, arresting him.

‘How did you make it to town?’ asked Chandler.

‘Luck. I stumbled along for a couple of hours before I came across a dirt road. I followed it looking for some help, but nobody passed. That’s when I came across the old bicycle. It was rusted to shit but better than nothing. I made it to the end of the dirt road, saw the town in the distance and aimed for it, cringing in fear at every car that passed, expecting Heath to jump out of one, or to be side-swiped into the ditch and finished off.’

‘What road?’ asked Chandler. It would narrow the search down.

Gabriel shook his head. ‘I dunno. It’s all a blur, Officer. I don’t think there was a name. Just a dirt road. He was after me. That bastard . . . was after me. But I made it.’

With that Gabriel slumped in the seat, exhausted from relaying his story, the weight temporarily lifted from his shoulders. Chandler studied him. The eyes remained closed, the body language one of cautious relief curdled by ongoing trepidation.

‘You’re safe now.’

The eyes opened. The mouth followed, the smile weary and crooked, a set of perfectly aligned teeth flashed: good genes or excellent orthodontic work.

‘I just want to go home,’ said Gabriel.

‘I thought you didn’t have one?’

‘I don’t.’

‘Then where will you go?’

‘Anywhere. Far from here.’

‘To another farm?’

‘No, screw that.’

‘I’d like it if you stuck around.’

Gabriel’s smile turned into a frown. Not the news he wanted to hear.

‘Why?’

His statement taken, Chandler had no authority to hold Gabriel. It was time to invent some reason to keep him around.

‘In case we need to identify a body.’

The stare he received in return made Chandler wonder if Gabriel had seen straight through his ruse. The eyes that had previously desired escape grew still and focused. They seemed to implore Chandler to tell the truth, sitting in judgement on his lies.

‘Where would I stay?’

Chandler immediately thought of the cells but they wouldn’t entice a terrified Gabriel to hang around. But the offer of a night in luxury . . .

‘We have an excellent hotel in town.’

That was a little disingenuous. Ollie Orlander’s place was no palace, but for a farmworker used to sleeping in a twenty-bed dorm it might be luxurious enough.

‘Okay,’ said Gabriel, non-committal.

‘I’ll post someone outside.’

He would. Jim would enjoy sitting around all day with his half-completed crosswords.