“Good morning, Mr. Barrington,” the sheriff replied. “I just want to give you an update on Tim Rutledge. He left town the day of the shooting and left a note for his department head, saying that he was moving to California to take up a teaching appointment there.”

“So, he’s on the run?”

“He is. We’ve sent out a nationwide alert to police agencies. We don’t think there is a teaching appointment in California, and he could be anywhere. He cleaned out his bank accounts last Friday, so that would indicate premeditation.”

“I see.”

“The shotgun was processed for fingerprints, and the only ones found were those of my deputy. Rutledge apparently wiped it clean. Shall I return the shotgun to you?”

“No, please give it to the butler at the house. He will send it to me in New York, along with some other items from the house that are being packed.”

“Just one other thing,” the sheriff said. “The autopsy on Mrs. Barrington revealed that one of her ovaries had been removed, and the remaining one was in the early stages of ovarian cancer. The pathologist says that it’s unlikely that she knew. Whether she would have survived the illness would have depended on how long she waited to be treated.”

“I see,” Stone said. “She had an examination in December, but nothing was found.”

“As the pathologist said, the cancer was in the early stages.”

“What are the chances of finding Tim Rutledge?” Stone asked.

“That will depend on how well he prepared his disappearance. We know, since he cleaned out his bank accounts, that there was premeditation, but we don’t know how long he was planning this. We’re tracking his credit cards, but nothing has been charged as yet.”

“How much did he take from his bank accounts?”

“About two hundred thousand dollars in cash, from checking and savings, and a cashier’s check for half a million from investments, including an IRA. That check hasn’t cleared the bank yet. When it does, we’ll find out where he cashed it, and that might help us.”

“So, he’s not hurting for funds.”

“No. He left the station wagon in his parking spot at the university, so we think he has a second car, though there is not one registered anywhere in his name.”

“Finding him may be harder than you think,” Stone said.

“You could be right. In any case, I will keep you posted on any developments. May I have your e-mail address?”

Stone gave it to him. “Thank you for checking in, Sheriff.” He hung up.

“Anything?” Joan asked.

“Nothing. The man is on the run, he’s smart, and he’s got money. My bet is he’s already out of the country, probably in Mexico.”

The phone rang again. “It’s Sean Patrick for you,” Joan said. She handed him the phone and went back to her office.

“Hello, Sean.”