'Lord God Almighty.'

The dark eyes seemed to grow darker for an instant. Then he dropped his chin, reached up, and massaged his temples.

'I've sinned, and my Savior wants confession.'

Oh boy.

When Bowman looked back up his eyes were moist. His voice cracked as he spoke the next sentence.

'And the Lord God sent you to bear witness.'

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Back in the truck, it took Luke Bowman a ful half-hour to unburden his soul. During that time I had four cals from the media. I finaly turned the unit off.

As Bowman talked, the phrase 'obstruction of justice' floated through my mind. The rain started again. I watched fat drops wriggle through the windshield film and pockmark puddles in the lot. Boyd lay curled at my feet, persuaded at last that leaving Flush undisturbed was a better plan.

My car arrived, roling behind the wrecker like sea salvage. Bowman continued his strange narrative.

The station wagon was lowered and moved to join the Pinto and pickups. The man in the oil-stained clothing opened a door and steerpushed my Mazda into the bay. Then he raised the hood and peered under.

Bowman talked on, seeking absolution.

Finaly the reverend stopped, his tale finished, a place near his god reestablished. It was then that Ryan swung into the lot.

When Ryan got out of his car, I lowered my window and caled out. Crossing to the truck, he leaned down and spread his forearms on my window ledge.

I introduced Bowman.

'We've met.' Moisture glistened like a halo around the perimeter of Ryan's hair.

'The reverend has just relayed an interesting story.'

'Has he?' The iceberg eyes studied Bowman.

'It may translate into something helpful to you, Detective. It may not. But it's God's honest truth.'

'Feeling the devil's riding crop, brother?'

Bowman looked at his watch.

'I'l let this fine lady tel it to you.'

He turned the key and Boyd raised his head. When Ryan stepped back and opened my door, the chow stretched and hopped out, looking slightly annoyed.

'Thank you, again.'

'It was my pleasure.' He looked at Ryan. 'You know where to find me.'

I watched the pickup lurch across the lot, its tires shooting spray from the water-filed ruts.

I'd never known Bowman's brand of faith. Why had he told me what he had? Fear? Guilt? A desire to cover his ass? Where were his thoughts now? On eternity? On repentance? On the pork chops he'd defrosted for tonight's dinner?

'What's the status of your car?' Ryan's question brought me back.

'Hold on to Boyd while I go check.'

I ran to the work bay, where P/T was stil under my hood. He thought the problem might be a water pump, would know tomorrow. I gave him my cel phone number and told him I was staying with Ruby McCready.