I drove to a small park in the middle of town. I used to come here as a kid. My mom would bring me when Adam was at work. A golf course was nearby, and sometimes I’d gather a few golf balls and try to sell them back to the golfers. She’d let me take the money I’d earned and buy candy at the gas station.

I got a text from Will. All it said was Better get down to Roscoe’s house.

I sighed and stared awhile longer at the ducks drifting lazily in the pond. What a life they had. Eating, sleeping, and lying around in the sun.

Give me ten minutes, I texted back.

When I arrived at Roscoe’s house, two units from the sheriff’s office were already there. Will was speaking to them outside. When he saw me, he came over.

“Talked to a neighbor that says he left in a real hurry and had his car packed to the brim.” He looked up at the house. “Guess we know who the man was with Anderson that night. It explains why Lyle didn’t identify Steven at the lineup. Poor kid was protecting his dad. Can’t imagine that was easy for him to lie to everybody.”

We walked inside the home. A one-story rambler. The furniture seemed untouched, but some of the cupboards in the kitchen were open along with a few drawers. It looked like someone had been searching for something. In the bedroom, clothes were everywhere. On the nightstand was a photo of Roscoe and Lyle holding the head of a buck that had been killed.

“There’s something else,” Will said. “There’s a gun safe in the hall closet. It’s empty.”

“Great, the psycho’s armed, too. Can anything else go wrong with this case? Would you like to arrest me as well and just put me out of my misery?”

“Hey, I’m just telling you what I found, boss. Take it easy.”

I exhaled and sat down on the bed. “I know. It’s not your fault. Look, there’s nothing we can do here. Just keep one unit stationed outside in case he shows up.”

“Should I modify the BOLO to armed and very dangerous?”

“Cops have itchy trigger fingers as it is. You do that, and Lyle might get caught in the cross fire. We need to get Roscoe when he’s not paying attention.” I rose and paced around the bedroom, kicking aside some clothes on the floor. “So if I was a murdering psychopath, where would I go and hide with my son?”

Will glanced into the closet. “Relatives are the best bet. Still checking out that sister and uncle.”

“I agree, but it’s also the most obvious bet. He might realize that and go somewhere less obvious.”

“Mexico?”