Terry stood at the door a moment, then walked over to Keith, who had gotten out of the Blazer.
Keith already knew by the look on Terry's face that Annie wasn't there, but he didn't know why.
Terry said, "Hi, Keith."
"How are you?"
"Okay... Annie's not here."
"I know that."
"She was here, but she left."
He nodded. "Okay."
"She... had to go."
Neither of them spoke for a while, then Terry said, "You want a cup of coffee?"
"Sure."
He followed her into the kitchen, and she said, "Have a seat."
He sat at the round kitchen table.
As Terry poured two mugs of coffee, she informed him, "Annie left you a note."
"She's all right?"
"Yes." Terry put the mugs on the table, with cream and sugar, and said, "She was upset."
"Well, I don't blame her."
Terry sat and stirred her coffee absently. "She wasn't angry. But when she got here, she was all... sort of excited... then, when I told her you'd be late, she was disappointed. But then she was okay again, and we had a nice visit."
"Good." Keith looked at Terry. She was about three years older than Annie and had Annie's good looks, but not Annie's sparkle or bounce. Terry had graduated high school two years before Keith and Annie had started going together in their junior year. She'd gone to Kent State, so Keith hadn't seen much of her except for summers and holidays, but as Annie had reminded him, Terry sometimes covered for them when she was home. Terry was one of the romantics. He recalled that Terry had met her future husband, Larry, in college, and they'd married and left school before either of them graduated. Keith and Annie, freshmen at Bowling Green by that time, had gone to the wedding together. He recalled now that Terry had given birth about seven months after her wedding, and Annie had said to him, "We will graduate, marry, and have children, in that order."
Terry said, "We had lunch. I haven't seen her so happy in years." She added, "A guy from down the road pulled in to drop something off, and when she heard his truck in the driveway, she jumped out of her chair and went out the door." Terry looked at him and smiled. "I guess I shouldn't give away family secrets."
"I appreciate your honesty. You can tell Annie I looked like an unhappy, lovesick puppy."
She smiled again. "You look tired. Drive all night?"
He nodded.
"I know the look. Larry comes in from the road, looks like hell, not hungry for food, but hungry for love." Her face flushed, and she added, "You guys."
Keith smiled in return. Larry owned some sort of trucking business according to one of Annie's letters of some years back, and Terry kept the books. He imagined that they did well, the house was nice, the pickup truck was new. They had three children in or graduated from college, he remembered. Keith had seen Larry a few times when he and Annie were home from college, and Keith recalled that Larry was a big, quiet sort of guy. Larry was either working this morning or playing weekend sheriff, or was lying low somewhere, as men did when affairs of the heart were being discussed.
Terry said, "She waited until one, then all of a sudden she said, 'I'm leaving,' and she wrote you a note." Terry took an envelope out of her jeans pocket and put it on the table.
Keith looked at it and saw his name in Annie's familiar handwriting. He sipped his coffee, which he needed.
Terry said, "I tried to keep her here, but she said it was okay, she'd see you another time." Terry added, "She's always so bubbly, you know, and you can't tell when she's hurting. I don't mean this morning, but with that bastard she's married to. Oh, God, I want so much for her to be happy. Really happy again."
"Me, too." Keith said, "So how are you? You look good."
She smiled. "Thank you. You look terrific, Keith. I recognized you as soon as you got out of your car."
"It's been a lot of years, hasn't it?"
"Oh, yes. They were good times back then."
"They were, weren't they?"
She nodded, then said, "Larry had to go into work. He hung around awhile to see you. Said to say hello."
"I'll see him next time."
"Hope so. So you've done okay for yourself. I always knew you would."
"Thanks. This is a nice house."
"Oh, these old places are a pain, but Larry likes to fix things. You're back on the farm?"
"Yup. Lot of work. How are your parents?"
"They're fine. Getting on, but healthy, thank the Lord. Yours?"
"Enjoying Florida. They can't believe they have a son who's retired."
She smiled. "You look too young to retire."
"That seems to be the consensus."
"So you were in Washington?"
"I had to finish up some business. Thought I'd be back in time."
They talked awhile, the letter lying on the table between them. Keith thought it was important to reestablish a relationship with Annie's sister, and in fact he liked Terry, and he wanted her to like him, as a person, not as her sister's lover or white knight. She turned out to be a lot more lucid than she'd sounded at seven that morning, and he had the sense she had a lot she wanted to tell him, but he kept the conversation general for a while, but then said to her, "I only want the best for your sister. You know we've never stopped loving each other."
Terry nodded, and a tear ran down her cheek.
Keith took the letter and said, "Mind if I read it here?"
"No, go ahead..." She stood and said, "I have to go throw some stuff in the dryer." She went down into the basement.
Keith opened the envelope and read: "Dear Keith, No, I'm not angry, yes, I'm disappointed. I know that whatever took you back to Washington couldn't be helped, but it gave me a few hours this morning to think. Oh, no, Prentis! You're not thinking again!"
Keith smiled, remembering that he used to say that to her in college whenever she preceded a sentence with, "I've been thinking..."
He knew this wasn't going to be an amusing letter, however, and he read on. "What I was thinking is that this is a big step for you. For me, it means getting out of a situation that I can't stand any longer. But for you, it means taking on a big responsibility — being responsible for me. Maybe you don't need that burden. I know my husband has made life difficult for you, and I know that you can deal with it fine. But I'm starting to feel guilty about all of this. I mean, Keith, I don't think you'd be here, or be in this situation, if it weren't for me, and I appreciate that. But without me, you could do what you want, which, by now, after all that's happened, is probably to go back to Washington, or to Europe, or wherever without trying to fit me into your plans. No, I'm not being sulky, I'm finally thinking about what's best for you."
Keith was pretty sure he knew the gist of the next paragraph, but read it anyway. "Maybe we both need some time to think and to let things cool off. We waited this long, so maybe we can wait a few more weeks. It would probably be a good idea if you left — not that I want you to leave, but, with the situation with Cliff, it might be best. As we've done for twenty years, you can contact me through Terry, and we'll work out a time and place to meet and talk it over — but not for a while. I know, you're probably angry that I didn't wait, but I couldn't handle it — sorry. And yes, I'm a lousy letter writer, and I can't write what I feel, but you know how I feel, Mr. Landry, and I'll tell you again when we meet. Love, Annie."
Keith folded the letter and put it in his pocket.
Terry came upstairs into the kitchen and glanced at him as she got the coffeepot off the counter. "Another cup?"
"No, thanks." He stood. "Well, thank you again. When you see Annie, tell her I'll be leaving Monday."
"You're leaving? Where are you going?"
"I'm not sure yet, but I'll contact her through you, if I may."
"Okay... hey, let me call her. She's got a car phone, and maybe she's on the road, and I'll tell her you're here."
"That's okay. It's getting late." Keith moved to the door.
"You want to leave her a note?"
"No, I'll write and send it here."
Terry walked out with him. She said, "I don't know what she wrote, but I know what she feels. Maybe you shouldn't pay a lot of attention to that letter."
"The letter was okay."
"I don't think so. Hey, what's wrong with you two?"
Keith smiled. "Bad luck, lousy timing." He got into the Blazer and rolled down the window. "We'll work it out."
"You came real close to doing that this time." She put her hand on the car door and said, "Keith, I know my sister, and I wouldn't tell this to another soul except you... she's frightened. She had a bad week with him."
"Do you think she's in any danger?"
"She didn't think so, but... I think it got to be too much for her this morning. She started getting worried about you... so she called up at their lodge in Michigan, and he answered the phone, and she hung up. She felt better knowing he was there and not around here. Just the same, about an hour later, she said she was going home. That was about two hours before you got here. I'm surprised you didn't pass each other."
"I took another route."
"She probably went past your place."
"Maybe."
"Try to speak to her before you leave. She needs to hear from you."
"That's not easy."
"I'll drive out to see her tomorrow. I know I can't call her on the phone. But I'll stop by after church and get her alone somehow. I'll work out a meeting for you two."
"Terry, I really appreciate what you're doing, but she and I both need time to think."
"You had over twenty years for that."
"And another few weeks won't make a difference."
"They could."
"No, they can't. Let's let it slide for now. I'll contact you in a few weeks. By then, everyone will be thinking clearly, and we can take it from there."
Terry stepped back from the Blazer. "Okay. I don't want to interfere."
"You've been very helpful." He started the car.
"You're angry."
"No, I'm not." He smiled. "If I tell you you're as good-looking and sexy as your sister, will you be a real midwestern lady and slap me?"
She smiled. "No, you get a kiss." She leaned through the window and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Take care of yourself. See you soon."
"Hope so." He backed out of the drive and headed back to Spencer County.
Being an intelligence officer for twenty years had its advantages. For one thing, you learned how to think differently than most people, you played life like a chess game and thought six moves ahead, and you never gave away your game plan and never gave out more information than the other person needed to have. He could trust Terry, of course, but he didn't trust her judgment. It was best for her to think he was angry or whatever she was thinking. He wasn't trying to manipulate her, and through her, Annie. But Cliff Baxter had to be reckoned with, and the less Terry knew, the better.
Annie's letter. He didn't have to read between the lines — it was all there in her own words. She was disappointed, perhaps hurt. She was concerned about his safety. She didn't want to be a burden to him. He took all this at face value. What she wanted from him was a reassurance that it was still okay — the trip to Washington was nothing to be concerned about, Cliff Baxter didn't worry him, she wasn't a burden, she lifted his spirits.
Still, she asked him to wait, and no doubt she meant it. Even if he wanted to wait, which he didn't, Cliff Baxter's actions were unpredictable. She had a bad week with him.
He recalled what Gail had told him about a firearm incident at the Baxter house, and it occurred to him, not for the first time, that Annie was going to kill her husband. He couldn't let that happen. It didn't have to happen. But if it was going to happen, she'd wait until Keith Landry was gone, so Keith had some time to make sure it didn't happen. If Keith had played his cards right with Terry, she'd tell Annie that Keith Landry was going to leave, and, by the looks of him, he might not be back. That may have been a little manipulative, he admitted, but it was necessary. "All's fair in love and war." Maybe not all, but a lot.
He crossed the line into Spencer County, and, within twenty minutes, he was in Spencerville. He drove past Annie's house on Williams Street, but there was no car in the driveway. He went downtown and stopped at the bank, hitting the cash machine for the maximum, which was four hundred dollars in these parts. He drove around town for a while, but didn't see her white Lincoln.
Keith headed out of town, got on Highway 22, and stopped at Aries's self-service gas station.
Keith got out and pumped.
Bob Aries ambled out of the office and waved to him. "How you doin?"
Keith replied, "Fine. How about you?"
"Okay." Bob Aries walked over to Keith. "Got yourself a new Blazer."
"Sure did."
"Like it?"
"I do."
"You got rid of that other thing?"
"Made a chicken coop out of it."
Aries laughed, then asked him, "Hey, did Chief Baxter ever look you up?"
Keith glanced at Aries and said, "He stopped by last week."
"Yeah, he said he might. I told him you was in here one day."
"Thanks." Keith finished pumping and put the nozzle back. He and Aries went into the office, and Keith paid for the gas. Keith inquired, "Does he come in here much?"
Bob Aries's expression changed. "Well... he did. We get a lot of the city and county business here. But... uh... we had some problems."
"I think I might have heard about that."
"Yeah... a lot of people heard about that."
Keith went through the door into the convenience store, and Bob Aries followed him. There was no one behind the counter, and Keith asked, "Where is Mrs. Aries?"
"She's away for a while." He added, "I guess you know why, if you know about that church meeting out by Overton."
"But why did Mrs. Aries leave?"
"Uh... well... I guess she felt kinda... maybe a little nervous after she went and shot her mouth off."
"Was she telling the truth?"
"Hell, no. I mean, you got to give a little to get a little in this here world. Women don't understand how business is done." Aries shook his head and added, "The chief and his cousin, Don Finney, who's the sheriff, came in here and told me they was gonna get the city and the county to switch accounts to someplace else. You know how much of my business that is? I'll tell ya. Damned near fifty percent. You know what's gonna happen now? I'm out. Because she shot off her damned mouth."
"So you don't see Chief Baxter anymore?"
"Oh, he comes in, just like he used to, 'cause this is where the city has to charge it until the city council changes it. But he don't say much to me, and what he says ain't nice." Aries added, "He says he got a bone to pick with Mary. I told him he won't be seeing her around here for a while."
"Does he still help himself to whatever he wants?"
"Hey, he never did that. He always paid. And if I wanted to give him a few things to munch on, so what?"
Keith threw a few items on the counter, things to tide him over for the weekend. Aries went behind the counter and rang up the items.
Keith said, "I'm leaving Spencer County. Monday."
"Yeah? For good?"
"Yes. No work here."
"Told ya. Too bad, though. Need more people. That'll be twenty-one dollars and seventy-two cents."
Keith paid him, and Aries bagged. Aries said, "Next time you come through, you'll see this place closed."
Keith said to Bob Aries, "Your wife did the right thing. You know that."
"Yeah, maybe. But I don't need Chief Baxter for an enemy, and I don't need to start over again at my age."
"I wouldn't count on Baxter being chief much longer."
"Yeah? Ya think?"
"You read the transcript of the St. James meeting?"
He nodded.
"What do you think?"
"Well... the man ought to have better control over his dick." Aries smiled. "Hey, you know why men give their penises names? 'Cause they don't want a total stranger makin' ninety percent of their decisions." Aries laughed and slapped the counter. "Get it?"
"Sure do."
Aries got serious again and said, "But this other stuff they's sayin' he did... like fillin' up his private car here for free... hell, even if it was true, which it ain't, nobody got hurt. Now, the thing about him and those women, well, my wife says that makes him unfit to be police chief. I don't know, because I don't know if them women is lyin', or what. But I do know that those kinds of charges ain't doin' much for his home life. Hey, you know Mrs. Baxter?"
"We were schoolmates."
"Yeah? Well, that's a fine, fine woman. She don't have to hear that kind of crap from those sluts what got up in church, brazen as can be, and told all."
"Try to make the next meeting. My regards to Mrs. Aries. You should be with her." Keith picked up the bag and left.
From a pay phone around the side of the convenience store, he called Charlie Adair's house and got the answering machine. He said, "Charlie, my plans are postponed. I'll get back to you in a day or two. Sorry I can't make it tonight. Regards to Katherine. Meantime, if you call my home phone, assume it's tapped by Police Chief Baxter, who has this crazy idea that I'm interested in his wife. Stewart did a great job. He should be back before midnight. I'm still thinking about the job offer. Can I have a grow-light in my basement office? Tell the president I said hi. Speak to you."
At about nine o'clock that evening, Keith figured he'd been up for about thirty-six hours straight, and he got ready for bed. He opened the drawer of his nightstand and saw that the Glock was missing.
He thought a moment. The Porters knew where the key was, but they wouldn't help themselves to the pistol. He looked through his wardrobe cabinets and noticed now that things were slightly disturbed.
Obviously, Baxter had gotten into the house, which, for a policeman with at least one or two locksmiths on call, was not difficult.
Nothing seemed to be missing except the pistol, and there was nothing compromising in the house for him to be concerned about. He'd burned Annie's last letters to him, and her past letters of two decades had gone through one government paper shredder or another. He wasn't much of a saver, and he was glad now that he wasn't.
Letters aside, the Glock was gone, and Baxter had been through his things. That was reason enough to kill the man, and he would have except for his promise, and except for the fact that Baxter was about to lose his wife, his job, his friends, and his town. Death, as the expression went, was too good for him.
Keith found his old K-bar knife and put it on his nightstand. He turned off the lights and went to sleep.
He awoke at dawn, showered and dressed, and went downstairs. It was a cool, crisp Sunday morning, and when he went outside, he could see his breath. He walked to the cornfield and peeled back the husk on an ear. The color was about right, and so was the dry, paper-thin husk. Almost but not quite ready. Another week or two, weather permitting.
He walked around the farmyard, surveyed the buildings, the fences, the grounds. All in all, he'd done a good job, and all it took was some money, a lot of time, and backbreaking labor. He didn't know, really, why he'd done it, what the objective was, but he felt good about it. He knew he'd touched things, fixed things, that his father and uncle had touched and tinkered with, as had his grandfather.
There weren't many physical remains from his great-grandfather's day, or his great-great-grandfather, the original settler, but he was walking the same ground they walked, and in the early morning and in the evening, when the countryside was quiet in half-light, he could feel their presence.
He went to church. Not St. James, but St. John's in Spencerville. This was a different congregation, to be sure — better dressed, better cars. The big brick and stone church was the best building in Spencerville, aside from the courthouse. If the county had an establishment church, it was St. John's Lutheran, firmly connected to the early settlers and the present power structure. Even the Episcopalians dropped in now and then, especially if they were running for office or had a business in town.
Keith looked for the Baxters but didn't see them as he walked in. Even if he'd literally bumped into Mr. Baxter's ample body, there wouldn't be a problem; it was Sunday, this was a church, and Spencerville's God-fearing gentry wouldn't tolerate discord or disharmony in or around the Lord's house on the Lord's day.
Keith went inside. The church was large and held about eight hundred people. Keith scanned the backs of the congregation in the pews, but still he didn't see Mr. and Mrs. Baxter. If they were there, however, he'd see them coming out if he stood at the bottom of the steps after the service.
Keith took a seat on the left toward the rear, and the service began with Pastor Wilbur Schenk, Mrs. Baxter's confessor, officiating.
It wasn't until about halfway through the service that he realized that Annie was in the choir, sitting on the far right side of the altar, so he had a good view of her.
The choir rose to sing, and she looked at him as though she'd noticed him long ago and was impatient with him for not seeing her. They made eye contact for a moment, and he winked at her. She smiled as she began singing "Rock of Ages," then looked down at her hymnal, still smiling. She looked angelic, he thought, with her red choir robe and her eyes that sparkled in the candlelight. When the hymn was finished, she folded the hymnal and glanced at him again as she sat.
Before the service ended, Keith left and drove out of Spencerville.
He stopped at the Cowley farm and knocked on the door, but no one answered. It was unlocked, so he went in and called out for Billy Marlon, but the house seemed to be empty. He went into the kitchen and found a pencil and an envelope from a piece of junk mail and wrote: "Billy, leaving town for a while. See you next time. Stop the boozing. Go to the VA hospital in Toledo for a checkup. That's an order, soldier." He signed it, "Landry, Colonel, U.S. Army, Infantry." Keith didn't know how much good the note was going to do, but he felt some sort of need or obligation to write it. He put a hundred dollars on the kitchen table and left.
He considered going to the Porters' house, but he'd said his goodbyes and didn't want to alarm them with a change of plans; another case of the less they knew, the better for them. Cliff Baxter and his cohorts not only had to be reckoned with, but they were setting the agenda for a while.
Next call was Aunt Betty's. On the way, he stopped at a big indoor farm stand and bought jams, homemade candy, maple syrup, and other sugar products that would have put most people into sugar shock, but which Aunt Betty seemed to thrive on.
She was home, ready to go to Lilly and Fred's house for Sunday dinner, she informed him. She invited him in, but like most elderly people he knew, especially his German relatives, she didn't know how to handle a small change in her day. She said, "I have to be there in an hour."
Lilly and Fred lived about twenty minutes away, and Keith recalled with a smile Aunt Betty's theory of time relativity as it applied to herself and to other people. He said, "I'm only staying a minute. If you hurry, you can make it. Here, I brought you a few things." He put the bag on the dining room table, and she emptied it, item by item.
"Oh, Keith, you didn't have to do that. You're such a sweet man."
And so on.
He said to her, "Aunt Betty, I'm leaving for a while, and I wonder if you'd be good enough to keep an eye on the place."
"You're leaving again?"
"Yes. I don't do it often. Once every quarter century or so."
"Where are you going this time?"
"To Washington to take care of some leftover business. I've asked some other people to keep an eye on the place, as well. Jeffrey and Gail Porter. Jeffrey is an old schoolmate of mine."
"Which Porter is he? The one with the three sons?"
"No, his father had three sons. Jeffrey is one of them. Jeffrey is my age. Anyway, I just, wanted you to know."
"Wait here. I have something for you." She went into the kitchen and returned with his bottle of French red Burgundy, cold from the refrigerator. "This will just go to waste, so you should take it."
"Thank you."
"Why don't you come to Fred and Lilly's with me? I'll call. They can put out another plate. She always makes too much. Wastes food, that woman. I told Harriet, that daughter of yours wastes..."
"I have another engagement. Aunt Betty, listen to me. I know you don't listen to gossip, spread gossip, or believe gossip. But in a few days or so, you're going to hear some gossip about your favorite nephew, and about Annie Baxter. Most of what you hear will probably be true."
She only glanced at him a moment, then turned her attention to the items on the table.
Keith kissed her on the cheek. "Don't speed. I'll write you."
He left Aunt Betty in the dining room, probably worried about getting to Lilly's on time with less than an hour to spare. Keith smiled. Well, he'd gotten his wine back, which was a good trade.
He headed home, back to the farm. It was midafternoon now, and the October sun was in the west, clouds had appeared, along with a north wind, and the countryside seemed dark, cold, and lonely on this Sunday afternoon.
He had a sense of loneliness himself, a feeling of closure, but also an assurance that he'd done things right. He would leave in the morning, with or without her, but she would be with him in his heart, and he'd be with her. Next week, or next month, or even next year, they'd be together.