Read Online The Bohemian Connection by Susan Dunlap - Free Book Online Page B

Ward’s house. With each step my pace quickened. On the far side of Ward’s was an older house, the one with the yard Ward crossed. I looked between the houses, but there was no sight of Ross. I hurried on till I could see between the next two houses. Nothing moved. Ross had been walking too. How had I missed him? Maybe he had started running as soon as he was out of view of the sheriff. I rushed down past the next house, but again there was no running man, no branches waving in the still afternoon.
    If these houses were like mine there would be a path behind them that led to a commonly used spring. It would be easy for Ross to lope along that but not to run all out. I couldn’t believe he had outdistanced me and still left no trace of his flight.
    But if he hadn’t run beyond this spot where was he? Had he hidden somewhere along the path? Was he lurking behind an outbuilding waiting to hear the sheriff’s car leave? It might be a long wait. Even then he would have to get down without being spotted. He had grown up here. People would recognize him. They wouldn’t think of him as a murderer, but they would find it noteworthy that he had returned to Henderson after being gone so long.
    Of course, he was familiar with the terrain. For someone who knew the area the sensible thing to do would be to go uphill, to come out on Cemetery Road, the street above, and stroll back to his car. And the most likely place to park without drawing notice would be at the old Henderson cemetery at the top of the hill. The graves there were old. Relatives of the entombed had long since died and been buried in the new cemetery across the river. Now the only people who visited the cemetery were those who for one reason or another wanted the solitude.
    I walked quickly up Half Hill Road. My pickup was on the near side of the sewer hole. The sheriff’s car was next to it, but fortunately the sheriff himself was nowhere in sight. He must have gone into Craig’s house.
    I climbed into the cab of my pickup, backed into a driveway, and turned toward town.
    I took a right on Zeus Lane, up the hill toward Cemetery Road. I barely had time to slam on the brakes. A Winnebago blocked the street. Its nose was in a driveway.
    “Could you pull in?” I hollered to the driver.
    He looked confused. “Waiting for the wife,” he called. “Never can finish her good-byes in less than an hour. You’d think she—”
    “I need to get by,” I yelled. “I’m in a hurry.”
    “Oh. Sure.” He started the engine and inched the huge vehicle into the driveway.
    I raced by and cut left onto Cemetery Road.
    Cemetery Road paralleled Half Hill Road then cut sharply uphill to wind its way past a few dead-end streets before it reached the cemetery itself. It was possible that Ross could have driven into one of those dead ends but unlikely since he had no reason to think anyone was looking for him. If he didn’t, and if he hadn’t followed Cemetery Road down across Zeus Lane and into town at the other end of the shopping area, then he was somewhere on this street. Or in the cemetery itself.
    Cemetery Road was narrower than Half Hill. Beside it the ground rose or dropped steeply. The houses were newer, had large decks, and looked precarious. The only vehicle parked on the street was a county car and it was empty. I drove slowly, checking as best I could for a tall sandy-haired man who might be hiding behind a eucalyptus tree or making his way up the street. But when I reached the cemetery I still hadn’t seen him.
    The entrance to the cemetery was marked by cement pillars between which a gate may once have hung. If so, it had been stolen long ago. Now even the pillars were worn, like the teeth of an old dog. I drove along the dirt road. Clumps of stone suggested it had been covered with gravel at a time when that was as close to paving as any road in this area got. But that time was long ago. Now the road was dusty and deeply pitted and even in a pickup the going was