I might have assumed it was a coincidence if the Honda hadn’t been driving with its headlights off.

As soon as the Honda passed him, Seth Early leaped into action, running across the fields. I hadn’t seen that he had his truck stashed nearby, but I saw it join the spread-out caravan.

Aha! Apparently my fake bird-watcher in the Honda was also Seth Early’s swarthy man.

What the hell. I climbed down the tree again, ran back to the house the shortest way possible—along the now deserted road—and jumped into my car. Rob hadn’t been going that fast, so if they were following him, I should be able to catch up with them before they got too far.

After a couple of miles, I spotted Seth Early’s truck and slowed down to keep a safe distance behind it. When we came to a long, gentle curve, I got a chance to check out the others. Rob in the lead, cruising along a mere five miles above the speed limit. The Honda, its lights now on, following about ten car lengths behind him. Seth Early, about ten car lengths behind him. Since ten car lengths seemed to be the generally approved standard distance for tailing people, I made sure I was in sync with the rest of the caravan and tried to think ahead to any places where they could do something clever and lose me.

I don’t know why I bothered. Rob and Seth Early were clearly oblivious to the possibility that someone might be following them, and even if the Honda’s driver realized he was part of a parade, he probably couldn’t do anything about it.

Near town, Rob signaled way in advance before turning left onto the Clay Hill Road, and then again before his right turn onto Whitetail Lane. Did Rob’s errand have anything to do with Jasper Walker?

Seth Early and the Honda fell back a little on the small country lane, and I followed suit. I breathed a slight sigh of relief when we cruised past the Belle Glade Bird Farm sign without turning in. Still odd that Rob happened to be going out in this direction, but at least it wasn’t likely to be anything connected with Jasper’s murder and Karen’s disappearance.

Then a few miles farther, we hit another long curve through open fields, and I realized that Seth Early must have fallen too far back. He was now lead car in a truncated caravan.

He cruised on, apparently oblivious. Or maybe he was speeding up slightly, assuming the others had merely gotten a little too far ahead of him and trying to catch up.

I turned around in the next driveway and hightailed it back to Hiram Bass’s house and the bird farm.

I parked my car on one of the vestigial side lanes, near the ruins of a cement truck, and made my way on foot.

The Bass place was deserted. No sign of Rob’s car or the Honda. I took the lane toward the bird farm. I was halfway there when I heard some faint ticking noises in the shrubbery. I wasn’t sure what caused them, but my car made those same sounds when it had recently stopped and the engine was cooling.