I put the car on the highway, headed back toward the country club. I’d answered my own question. “If Harold drove that car to Dessusdelit’s, he’d park either in her driveway or in front of the place,” I explained. “If they whacked him, they wouldn’t be carrying his body across the lawn to put it in the trunk.”

“So

“

“So look for Hill’s panel truck. It’s white, and it says ‘Animal Control’ on the side. A Chevy-“

“There it is,” LuEllen said immediately, pointing back over my shoulder. The van was winding through the country club streets, still a block or so away, but moving toward the stone pillars that marked the entrance road. I slowed and took the first turn on the opposite side of the road.

“Now what?” LuEllen asked. The van hesitated before turning onto the highway, then accelerated away, after the white Ford.

“I don’t know. Follow. See what happens

If we had a gun

“

“If pigs had wings

” Hill’s van went past an obvious turnoff to animal control.

“Where’s he going? Why’s he going through town?”

“I don’t know.”

We found out five minutes later, after a nerve-wrenching job of tailing the white van through light traffic. On the northern highway business strip, just at the edge of town, the van slowed and turned into the Wal-Mart parking lot. We watched from the shoulder of the road as the van stopped at the front entrance. St. Thomas was waiting inside. He walked out and climbed in the driver’s side of the van, which then started back out. By that time I’d made a U-turn and was parked behind the gas pumps in the Shell station.

“They ditched Harold’s car in the Wal-Mart lot,” LuEllen said.

“Let’s call the cops.”

“And tell them what?”

“That a guy was kidnapped-“

“We’ll be on a tape-“

“Jesus, LuEllen.”

The van went past on the highway, headed back into town. I waited a few seconds and pulled out after them.

“He’s going out to animal control,” LuEllen said.

“Yeah. Can’t get too close out there. There’s nothing else around.”

I put several cars between us and the panel truck and, when there was no longer any question where it was headed, pulled over to a drive-up phone outside a convenience store. I dialed Marvel’s place, then John’s, and got no answer at either.

“Let’s go,” said LuEllen.

We continued on to the animal control complex and spotted the van parked outside.

“Where are they?”

“I don’t know, but we can’t go in,” I said, continuing past the turnoff. We were on a gravel road that had some traffic, but not much. Even going by the place was a risk. “If they’ve killed him

or are planning to

there wouldn’t be any reason not to do us.”