Page 40 of Sting
As the night wore on, his paranoia escalated, and he began to fear that he hadn’t been as invisible as he’d thought. Had he outsmarted no one? Were people that he’d encountered along the way remembering him and providing a description to police? Were the authorities even now within closing distance of him?
Awful scenarios of arrest, trial, and imprisonment, all spotlighted in the media, spun round and round in his head. The room began to feel like a jail cell.
Now, in a state of high anxiety, he packed his few belongings and put on the khakis he’d purchased at the Army Navy store. He pulled the cap low over his brow. As he left the motor court, he tried to keep from looking over his shoulder, but the impulse was hard to resist.
It was well before dawn, but truckers were on the highway even at this hour. Only two passed him before one stopped and invited him to hop in. Almost immediately Josh regretted doing so. He wanted only peace and quiet in which to think, but the driver was gregarious and launched into lurid accounts of his wild—and what Josh suspected were fictitious—encounters with countless women.
Josh tuned him out, and brooded, and tried not to scream at him to shut up.
He had to hang on only long enough to get where he was going. He just needed to get there! Once he saw that everything was all right, he would be all right.
After crossing into eastern Louisiana, he asked to be let out at a wide spot in the road. He’d waited until the truck was out of sight, then walked along the rural highway to a convenience store. He needed a few basic provisions—no more than he could comfortably carry in the backpack—to tide him over until he implemented phase two of his getaway.
He did his shopping hurriedly and carried the items to the counter. Aware of the security cameras, he kept his head down so the bill of his cap would help hide his face.
The cashier gave him a friendly smile. “That everything, hon?”
“Yes, thanks.”
“How about a coffee to go?”
“I’m fine.”
Suddenly his focus was drawn from her blue eyeshadow to the television on the counter behind her. Specifically, to his sister Jordie’s face on the television on the counter.
Jordan Bennett was superimposed across the bottom of the screen with a red tagline: FEARED KIDNAPPED.
Instantly Josh broke a sweat. His knees almost gave way. “Changed my mind,” he said to the clerk and took a lottery ticket from the stack near the register. “Add this to my total.”
He concentrated on keeping his hand from shaking as he used the ballpoint pen with the fuzzy tip to mark his numbers while covertly keeping one eye on the morning news being broadcast from a New Orleans station.
Jordie’s photograph was replaced by video of a crime scene demarcated by yellow tape. The super at the bottom switched to: Live Coverage from Terrebonne Parish. Josh recognized Jordie’s Lexus in the background behind the reporter, who was standing just outside the flimsy barricade.
Another customer entered the store and greeted the cashier with familiarity. Josh kept his head down, meticulously coloring in spaces on the lottery ticket while following the action on the TV screen.
“You hear about this?” the customer asked the cashier. Out of the corner of his eye, Josh saw him gesture toward the television. “Turn it up.”
Josh pretended to be oblivious, but he hinged on every word. Homicide. Apparent abduction. Detectives. The reporter’s inflections underscored descriptive words until it was all Josh could do to keep from screaming.
The reporter wrapped up by saying, “At this point authorities are left with more questions than answers about this brutal murder. However, our news team has learned that there is a person of interest.” A mug shot filled the screen. “Shaw Kinnard accompanied the victim into the bar and left with him. It’s believed he may be responsible not only for the slaying but also for Ms. Bennett’s disappearance. He’s to be considered armed and dangerous. Notify the nearest law enforcement agency if you have any information. A spokesperson from Ms. Bennett’s Extravaganza office has expressed concern—”
The cashier used the remote to lower the volume, even as her customer remarked, “Bet you anything that Billy Panella is behind this. Getting his payback on Josh Bennett.”
The cashier nodded. “If that lady’s found a’tall, it’ll be when somebody fishes her body out of a swamp.”
The man lumbered toward the dairy case, saying as he went, “Meanwhile that brother of hers got off scot-free. If she comes to harm, they ought to put that sumbitch in chains and lock him in a fuckin’ dungeon.”
Josh’s ears began humming noisily. He could barely control his breathing. Jordie had been kidnapped?
“Those the winners?”
Every muscle in his body contracted when he realized the cashier was addressing him. Josh gave her a tight smile as he passed her the lottery ticket. “One can hope.”
She registered his lottery numbers and totaled his purchases. He paid in cash, and it seemed to take her an eternity to sack up his purchases. When she was done, Josh thanked her and headed for the door.
“Have a nice day,” she called to him as he left.
He beat the hell out of there and walked along the shoulder of the highway until he saw a path angling off into the trees. He followed it for at least a hundred yards, and when he reached a clearing, he dropped his sacks, worked off his backpack, and collapsed onto the ropy root system of a gigantic live oak. Whipping off his eyeglasses, he pressed his forehead against his bent knees and breathed in and out through his mouth in heavy gusts.
