Just past the sign for Kings Ridge, the Caddy made a sudden left turn onto a poorly lit road—two narrow lanes, no dividing line, few cars. Cap was forced to drop back until their quarry’s taillights were red peas in the mounting darkness. They continued west into the day’s final blush of sunlight.

“Getting tougher,” Lou said to Cap.

“The only thing we have going for us is that there’s no reason for them to suspect anyone’s tailing them.”

“If this is what Virginia’s like,” Notso chimed in, “I choose our hood any day.”

“I hear there’s a collection bein’ taken to send you out here permanently,” George said.

A mile … then another. Now there were no cars coming the other way, and only darkness between them and the glowing red peas. They bounced across a railroad track and rolled past several white-painted corrugated hangars with NO TRESPASSING signs mounted to the outside walls.

Cap cut the Chevy’s headlights, plunging the car into darkness. The blackening sky made it difficult to follow the winding stretch of road that snaked around low hills and paralleled a small rill on the left. Soon, though, the curves straightened out and the landscape turned flat again. On both sides now, there was nothing but corn.

“So, Welcome, where do you think they’re headed?” Cap asked.

“No idea,” Lou replied.

“Is this the way to John Meacham’s house?”

“No. We’d be headed in the opposite direction if that’s where they were going. It looks like all there is out here is farmland.”

Notso pointed out the window. “Zat wheat?” he asked.

“Is wheat green, Notso?” George answered. “Do you even know what wheat looks like?”

“I know what wheat look like,” Notso said, folding his arms across his chest in a pout. “Look, man, it’s dark outside. Quit ridin’ me.”

“Well, it’s corn, you big goof. Acres and acres of fuckin’ corn.”

Lou glanced out at the stalks on both sides of the road, rippling in the light night breeze like a vast emerald ocean.

Cap decelerated. “I think they’ve turned left,” he said.

He waited a few seconds before catching a flicker of the sedan’s taillights through a path cleared in the corn. A minute later, he made the same turn. Tailing the Caddy was becoming more challenging.

“All this corn is making me hungry,” Notso said, rubbing his ample belly.

George turned around. “Seriously, Brite,” he said. “Could you please talk about somethin’ other than food.”

“Jes sayin’ I’m hungry is all,” Notso answered. “Why y’all buggin’ me so bad? Can’t a man want to eat?”

“No!” Cap and George said in unison.

For a few minutes, they rode in silence.

“Anyone ever hear the expression ‘knee high by the Fourth of July’?” Lou asked.