“A guy who worked here,” Monroe said. “Him and his sister were killed up by The Plains.”
Lucas thought his mouth might have dropped open. “The Stokeses?”
“Yeah, Randy Stokes and his sister, she was, like, Roberta or something. You know about them?”
“Rachel,” Lucas said. “I don’t know exactly where I am. I’vebeen following a navigation app. How far is The Plains from here?”
Monroe shrugged: “Right up I-60—maybe fifteen minutes.”
“Then how far is it from Warrenton?”
Another shrug. “I dunno. Maybe ten, fifteen minutes.” He picked up a pencil and drew a triangle on a piece of scratch paper and made points at the tips of each angle. “This is us here in Gainesville. This is The Plains, this is Warrenton.”
“Did Elias Dunn know Randy Stokes?”
“Sure. I don’t think they’d hang out together, they wouldn’t be pals. Randy was sort of a dumbass and El isn’t. But they’d run into each other. In fact, I think I seen them talking.”
“Did Stokes ever talk about his shooting hobby?”
“All the time—that’s about all he did talk about, other than how unfair life was. Drank like a fish, hungover every morning. I’m not the big boss here, but I kinda think Randy wasn’t going to make it through to the end of this project. He was going to get his sorry butt fired for pure laziness.”
—
LUCAS WALKED OUTto his car and called Chase.
She picked up and said, “We haven’t gotten the IRS—”
“Forget it,” Lucas said. “It’s Elias Dunn.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
Lucas headed back to Warrenton and Dunn’s house. On the way, he called Henderson, who was in his car, on his way home from church. “Quite the interesting sermon,” Henderson said, without even saying hello. “The minister—junior minister, actually—spoke on theBook of Common Prayer, the history of it, and how it should guide individual members of different political beliefs. Quite enchanting, even if he did have his head up his ass. So, what’s going on?”
“I believe I’ve identified the shooter...”
“Yes!”
“... but I don’t have him yet. Can you either loan me your plane for a flight to Macon, Georgia, or get me a first-class ticket for a flight to Macon? For tonight?”
“Can’t get you the plane, my wife is in Los Angeles with some woman named Oona, trying to exhaust each other on Rodeo Drive.”
“Do you care?”
“I do not. I can get you on any flight you wish, any class you want. That’s because I know people. What time do you want to fly and where do you want to fly from?”
“National or Dulles, either one. Macon if possible, but I’ll take Atlanta. One flight if possible, before dark.”
“I’ll have my assistant call you back,” Henderson said. “I want you to call Porter and tell him. He’s now suspicious of our relationship and you need to kiss and make up.”
—
LUCAS CALLED PORTER SMALLS, who hadn’t gone to church, and who said, “I’ll look forward to the denouement. I’m looking at my vocabulary-word-of-the-day calendar, and denouement means the point in a narrative when the different pieces of the plot are pulled together and we reach the climax.”
“I knew that,” Lucas said.
“Well, you had all those hockey pucks hitting you in the head since childhood, so I’m always uncertain of where you stand, brains-wise,” Smalls said.
