When the phone dragged him awake in complete darkness Virgil’s first thought was, Another phone call in the middle of the night? immediately replaced by, Did they find him?
“Quinn,” Virgil answered, shaking his head to clear the fog of sleep.
“Detective, this is Huntington County Deputy Sheriff Trey Carlson. I think I’ve spotted your guy, Kyle Neddick.”
“Huntington County? Where’s that?”
“Warren, Indiana, just off the I-69. We had a little incident at the Gas & Go, and when I looked at the video I saw a customer who looked a lot like your guy.”
“Can you send me the clip?”
“I pulled a couple of frames that show his face pretty good. I can send them to your phone.”
“Email them. I want to put them up on my laptop.”
Thirty seconds later Virgil was zooming in on a picture of Kyle Neddick holding a shopping basket.
“That’s my guy,” Virgil told Trey, excitement creeping into his voice. “Did you get a picture of his vehicle?”
“The clerk sold him forty-dollars worth on one of the pumps. He’s driving a silver, 2007 Infiniti G35. I can give you the plate.”
Virgil glanced at the glowing numbers on the digital clock – six-fifteen a.m.
“How fast can you get a BOLO out on that car? Armed and dangerous. Nobody should take him on alone.”
“You got it. Any idea where he’s heading?” Trey asked.
“Where does the 69 go?”
“Indianapolis. After that he could take the 70 to St. Louis or the 65 to Louisville. After that,” Trey unfolded a map on the Gas & Go counter, “Ahhh, Nashville, Oklahoma City, anyplace south or west.”
“When was this, when he was in the store?”
“The time code says nine-twenty-three last night.”
“OK, OK,” Virgil said, trying to run the numbers in his head. “If he was just driving through that’s about nine hours ago. How far is Indianapolis from you?”
“About a hundred miles.”
“He’ll be long gone by now. . . . What did he buy?”
“Excuse me?”
“Can you tell from the tape what he bought?”
“Hang on.” Trey ran the part of the clip where Charlene rang up his purchases. “Ahhh, water, a six-pack of beer, chips, a bottle of lemonade and, ahh, it looks like one of those frozen breakfast things, waffles and sausage.”
“He wasn’t going to pull over and eat that in his car,” Virgil said, his excitement returning. “He must have taken a room someplace with a microwave. Can you check the motels in town for that Infiniti? But do it carefully. If he feels threatened he’ll shoot you dead without a second thought.”
Trey felt a little shudder and took a quick breath. More than once he’d fantasized about catching some really bad guy, a kidnapper, a bank robber, a serial killer, but now that he might actually have to go toe-to-toe with a cold-blooded murderer, the prospect suddenly seemed far less appealing.
“Yeah, OK, we can do that,” he said with an edge of worry in his voice.
“I’m going to jump in the shower. Call me in fifteen.” Virgil hung up then spent five minutes bringing Stan up to speed before dialing Peter Fineman’s private number.
“Marshal, did you catch him?” Fineman asked instead of ‘Hello.’
“We’re close. He’s been spotted in Warren, Indiana. We’ve ID’d his vehicle and the locals are starting a search, but I’ve got to get there ASAP.”
“You need a plane,” Fineman said.
“I don’t think Chief Rogers is going to authorize our leasing one on the department’s dime.”
There was a long pause, then Fineman asked, “This Neddick, he’s the last one?”
“Three dead, one in the hospital, one in custody. The guy on the run is the ringleader. He set the whole thing up.”
“Hmmmm,” Fineman hummed, imagining the Mayor’s press conference announcing that the Mad Dog Gang had all been captured or killed. “Yes, all right,” he said a moment later. “I’ll make some calls. I’m sure that some civic-minded corporation will be willing to lend us the use of one of their jets for a worthy cause. Head out to Detroit Metropolitan. That’s off of I-94. I’ll call you with the hangar location as soon as I get something set up.”
“Thanks.”
Virgil started to hang up then heard Fineman say, “Marshal, do you think you can take him alive?”
“That’s up to him.”
“I knew the Samuelsons, through my job. What he did to them, to all of them . . . . I’m just saying . . . you know what I’m saying, don’t you Marshal?”
“You’re saying that you want to see this bastard brought to justice.”
“Justice, yes, that’s what I want. I want that very, very much,” Fineman said and hung up the phone.