THIRTY-THREE

It was a standard transportation truck, parked at the side of the road, with its driver changing a flat tire at the front passenger side. The trailer was standard white, giving no indication of what it contained. To anyone riding by on a horse, it might have held crates of potatoes or stacks of milk cartons. To that same person on horseback, there was no way of seeing the roof of the trailer—smoked glass that allowed ample sunlight to the interior.

The inside of the trailer was partitioned. The front half was command central, filled with computers and electronics that allowed Bar Elohim the same access to Appalachia’s network as if he were in the center of his compound. The back half was a luxury compartment for the ease of his travel.

A limousine with escorts traveled Appalachia’s highways on a daily basis. While it gave the appearance that Bar Elohim was constantly moving among the people, he rarely rode in the limousine. It was literally a smoke-and-mirrors trick to fool Appalachians—smoke from the exhaust, mirrored windows that made it impossible for anyone to see inside and know Bar Elohim was not there.

This transportation truck worked much better for him. He could travel where he wanted, anonymously.

The flat tire was not an accident but a diversion to wait in a prearranged spot.

Mason Lee had an appointment with Bar Elohim.

Carney drove at a sedate pace along the curving road through the valley, a set of earbuds hooked into his vidpod.

“We’ve got one mystery solved.” Carney pulled the earbuds loose. “The second horse. Gentry’s. They used it to get away. Tells me the girl must be smart, because my deputy wouldn’t be able to think that way. I’ll beam you the interview.”

Pierce glanced at Carney. Traveling in the town’s official car, Pierce was acutely aware that the entire journey was audio and video recorded.

Pierce fiddled with the touch controls on his vidpod screen, taking longer than he wanted to put it into reception mode. A beep signaled his success.

Carney grunted acknowledgment and pushed the screen of his device. Another beep told Pierce the download was complete. Pierce focused on the transmission, allowing the bounty hunter’s voice to fill the silence of their ride.

“That deputy came out of the dark like a train,” the face on the screen said. The bounty hunter was squinting and slightly cross-eyed. Drunk, Pierce guessed. He’d been speaking into a vidpod, and the shot was wide angle. “I didn’t have a chance against the big one.”

“You had the girl in custody?” The off-screen voice belonged to the sheriff doing Carney’s work.

“The girl and some boy. Mason put us all around the edges of town and told us to watch for them. Then the deputy, that was him, right? A big guy? The deputy charged in and knocked me out, I’m guessing. For a few minutes, I wasn’t seeing or hearing anything. When I woke, I was on the girl’s horse, almost on top of the girl in the saddle. My feet and ankles were tied with my own laces. That deputy and the boy rode my horse. I guess to keep the hounds from tracking them.”

Pierce followed the rest of the story easily. It matched the evidence that he and Carney had found near the livery horse.

When the deputy and the girl had reached the next intersection, a few miles down from Cumberland Gap, the girl had transferred to the bounty hunter’s horse without touching the ground. The boy—the hunter described him as scrawny—had led the livery horse and the bounty hunter south, then off the road and down a trail. The boy walked away, leaving the bounty hunter on the livery horse, tied to a branch. Pierce presumed the boy had rejoined the girl and the deputy on the horse stolen from the bounty hunter.

“Smart,” Pierce agreed. “They knew it would be a few hours before we realized they’d switched horses. Still, if all horses have radio chips, it shouldn’t be too hard to find the second horse.”

“Wasn’t hard at all,” Carney said. “It’s already showed up in the next town. No saddle.”

“That reduces the search area. Somewhere between where we found the livery horse and that town where they let the horse loose and started traveling on foot.”

“Ten miles of road, with ten miles on each side of the road. That’s a ten-by-twenty-mile area. Two hundred square miles of rugged valley and hills. Won’t be easy.”

Carney had a point, but Pierce stared out the window of the car, distracted, thinking it wouldn’t do much good to discuss Mason Lee in a government car.