FRIDAY 8:06 P.M.

I got in the passenger side of Duncan’s car. Georgia got in the back.

I asked, “What the hell is going on?”

Duncan said, “They arrested Edwin Hempil for cutting the brake lining. He was supposedly seen hanging around the bus before it left.”

“He was always hanging around.”

Georgia said, “But the bus didn’t always break down. If he didn’t do it, they assume he saw who tampered with the brakes.”

“They could have been tampered with hours before.”

Duncan threw in. “Maybe Hempil makes an easy scapegoat.”

I said, “Poor guy. Why’d you guys want to get me out of there?”

Georgia smiled. “There was some fear you’d beat the crap out of Rotella.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Even though you were on the bus, he’s suspicious that you were involved in some way. Or if he’s not suspicious, he’d like to involve you in it.”

“How do we know this?”

Duncan said, “Murray has been most helpful.”

“He get underwear from you?”

“He didn’t ask. Where to?”

“The bed and breakfast.” I took out the flash drive and phone and held them out. “These were in my duffel bag from the bus. They aren’t mine. You didn’t put them in there?”

“No.”

As Duncan put the car in gear and drove toward our headquarters, I filled them in on finding them.

“Anybody could have put them in there at almost any time. I had no reason to check all those little pockets. It could be the same as when they moved the body. Someone is trying to set me up.”

“For which crime?”

“Good question. If they knew the bus was going to crash, then why risk getting these wrecked? Someone must have wanted these to be found on me. Or did someone want me to have them? Does someone think they have clues to one, some, or all of the murders? Or does someone think they were lost and destroyed in the crash or fire?”

Duncan said, “They still could want you caught with them. You’re holding them right now.”

I said, “I think whoever is plotting has a lot more to be worried about now. The crash complicates things. And there could be more than one set of plotters. If they wanted to silence Czobel because of what he knew about Skeen and drugs, then they’ve succeeded.” I jiggled the phone and flash drive in my hand. I leaned my head back. I was drained.

We rode in silence for a few minutes until I spoke one of my key questions aloud. “Did the person who cut the brakes put the stuff in my duffel bag?”

Duncan asked, “Who wants to implicate you or threaten you or get you out of town?”

“Well, everybody.”

Duncan said, “Not everybody. At least one hot guy has thrown himself at you.”

“Two, Czobel and Campbell.”

“Unless Campbell is using you, getting close to you to find out what you know.”

“Hey! I like him.”

From the back seat Georgia harrumphed and said, “How many times have guys you liked turned out to be rats?”

“Not that many. And he’s not into drugs, and he didn’t kill anyone.”

“If you say so.”

At the bed and breakfast Caesar greeted me with flop-eared joy. Andy was still taking care of my dog when I had to be out working.

Jerry met us in our ersatz office. He wore black jeans and a black T-shirt. He sat his butt on the edge of a desk and asked, “You okay?”

“Nothing broken and I’m not currently bleeding.” The horror of what had happened to Henry the driver flashed in my mind. I didn’t know how soon, if ever, I’d forget his gaping wound or the pain of his suffering. I shook my head. I’d rather have slept for a week or been in Donny Campbell’s arms, but this thing needed to be resolved.

Duncan plugged the flash drive into his computer. It asked for a password. He said, “This is going to be even harder to break without knowing whose it was.” He turned on the phone and shook his head. “This is password protected as well. Both of these are going to take time.”

“Give them a shot.” I asked, “What have you guys found out here?”

Duncan had his laptop out and was ready to take notes.

Jerry said, “I spent all night last night out at Charlie Hopper’s place.”

“What did you find?”

“Even with the whole night, I only got to the larger pole sheds. Most of them had cows.”

“What did the non-cow ones have?”

“Various chemical labs. I didn’t have time to go inside. I think they need a look.”

“Can we go tonight?”

“Good as any other night.”

Jerry had put in a call to a friend in the DEA. They would meet in town the next day.

Duncan promised to keep working on getting into the flash drive and phone. I asked Georgia to retain her lawyer garb and see if she could talk to Hempil or help him. I said, “He’s being railroaded. Although he said his dad was a judge, so I’m not sure how much help he needs.”

Duncan said, “Wouldn’t that depend on which side in the fights his dad was on?”

Jerry added, “And evidence, don’t you think?”

“In this town,” I said, “I don’t think evidence means shit.”

Duncan said, “There is one other thing.” He pulled up a web site which was filled with conspiracy theories about the reporter’s death, Skeen’s keeling over, and how Knecht was evil incarnate.

Jerry said, “Somebody’s pushing bullshit.”

Duncan said, “You’d think they’d be ashamed.”

“That kind never is,” Jerry said.

Before we left, Duncan reminded Jerry and me to slather on insect repellant.