Dan Nichols paid the bail, then waited around for Lee Barnett to emerge from jail. When he did, he looked as mad as a rabid dog.
The cop who brought him up pointed him to Dan, and Barnett swaggered over. “You the one bailed me out?”
“That’s right,” Dan said.
“I owe you,” he said. “I just don’t have it right now. I haven’t gotten a job yet.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Dan started walking toward the door, unwilling to get too chummy with the man who might very well have poisoned Stan. What Jill was up to was beyond him.
“Hey, I appreciate it, man! Nice to have a friend in town.”
Dan glanced back and started to tell him that he wasn’t his friend, but he decided to leave it alone. Instead, he just headed back to the fire station.
From where he was parked outside, R.J. watched Barnett walk back across the street to Joe’s Place, where his car was parked. He couldn’t believe the judge had set bail already, and to make matters even worse, he’d been assigned to follow him again. R.J. didn’t see the point, if every time he arrested a guy, they let him go. He supposed if they wanted to waste his time, it was their prerogative.
He watched him pull out of the parking lot, and realized he could bust the guy again for drunk driving, if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He watched him drive in a roundabout way through Newpointe, as if he couldn’t remember which way would take him home. R.J. followed him as he drove through town, waiting for him to make a move.
They came to a busy intersection at the corner of First Street and LaSalle Boulevard, and a car got between them as the light turned red. R.J. tried to keep his eyes on the taillights of the Grand Am, but soon he lost sight of it. Had he gone left or right? He honestly didn’t know.
He cursed and gunned his engine as the light turned green. He passed the car in front of him, cursing again, and tried to catch up to Lee Barnett. But it was too late. Barnett was out of sight.