The Hot Dog Detective PQR Trilogy: The Hot Dog Detective Trilogies, #6

By Tara Maya

This collection includes three complete books from the Hot Dog Detective series.

 

When Rufus Headley's high school friend, now living in Los Angeles, is accused of murdering the doctor treating him for cancer, MacFarland must go to the City of Angels to defend him.

 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tara Maya
• Release date: Nov 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215703083

Book preview

THE HOT DOG DETECTIVE PQR TRILOGY

A HOT DOG DETECTIVE BOX SET #6

MATHIYA ADAMS

https://www.misquepress.com https://www.misquepress.com

CONTENTS

Also By Mathiya Adams

The Paranoid Patient

About The Paranoid Patient

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Epilogue

The Quibbling Quartet

About The Quibbling Quartet

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Epilogue

The Remorseful Rafter

About The Remorseful Rafter

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Epilogue

About Mathiya Adams

Copyright Misque Press © 2018

All Rights Reserved

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ALSO BY MATHIYA ADAMS

Novels

The Avid Angler – Case #1

The Busty Ballbreaker – Case #2

The Crying Camper – Case #3

The Desperate Druggie – Case #4

The Eager Evangelist – Case #5

The Freaky Fan – Case #6

The Groping Gardener – Case #7

The Harried Hairdresser – Case #8

The Impetuous Intruder – Case #9

The Jaded Jezebel – Case #10

The Kitchen Khemist – Case #11

The Lazy Lawyer – Case #12

The Morose Mistress – Case #13

The Naughty Neighbor – Case #14

The Obnoxious Oilman – Case #15

The Paranoid Patient – Case #16

The Quibbling Quartet – Case #17

The Remorseful Rafter – Case #18

The Strident Student – Case #19

The Truculent Trannie – Case #20

The Unselfish Uncle – Case #21

The Vacillating Vigilante – Case #22

The Wasted Womanizer – Case #23

The Xanthic Xena – Case #24

The Young Yogi – Case #25

The Zamboni Zealot – Case #26

The Absent Ally – Case #27

Novellas

The Christmas Corpse

The Easter Evader

The Jovial Juror

Get a Free Hot Dog Detective Novella!

Jovial Juror Cover

The impossible happens! Mark MacFarland, former Denver Police Detective, gets a jury summons. He’s certain he won’t be selected. After all, what defense lawyer would want a former cop sitting on the jury of a murder trial? But as luck has it, he is selected to be on the jury. But as the trial proceeds, MacFarland suspects the defendant has been framed. If so, who is the real murderer?

Click here to get this novella now!

THE PARANOID PATIENT

A HOT DOG DETECTIVE MYSTERY

ABOUT THE PARANOID PATIENT

When Rufus Headley's high school friend, now living in Los Angeles, is accused of murdering the doctor treating him for cancer, the decision for MacFarland to go to the City of Angels to defend him is easy. What is not easy for MacFarland is solving a case in a city where he is a stranger, and where his only contact with the Los Angeles Police Department is with a detective who can't disguise his distrust of MacFarland and even regards MacFarland as a suspect. While it was clear to MacFarland that Collins is innocent, the local police don't feel quite the same way. As MacFarland gets to know more about the clinic staff and what it is doing, he begins to wonder if Collins conflict with the clinic is actually justified.

MacFarland's adventures in LaLa Land are complicated by unwanted traveling companions, financial mismanagement, and a brazen millennial lawyer takes delight when she alone can bail MacFarland and his companions out of jail.

The Paranoid Patient if book sixteen in the Hot Dog Detective series. Each book can be read independently, but you want to read them in order, just follow the alphabet.

PROLOGUE

SATURDAY, MARCH 3, 1115 HOURS

Why can't you give me the medicine? shouted Deshawn Collins.

Dr. Goshan Sengupta raised a hand to calm the irate patient. Please, Mr. Collins, there's no need to shout. We are reviewing the protocols of your illness and the characteristics of the proposed treatment. There are a great many variables we have to take into account, sir.

You gave me the medicine last month! shouted Collins. Collins was an overweight black man, seventy years of age. What's different? You said I was getting better with the treatment. If you take it away, I'll get worse. You're trying to kill me!

We're not trying to kill you, Mr. Collins. That's an absurd idea. We're only here to help you in your treatment. Let me schedule some more tests, and then we can re-evaluate the medical treatment.

I don't want a re-evaluation! I what the damn medicine!

I'm afraid I can't give you that medicine, Deshawn. I am consulting with some of my colleagues to see if there is something else we can give you, but this takes time.

I don't have time! I'm dying!

There has been no deterioration in your vitals in the past two months, Deshawn. In fact, I am very gratified by the progress of your recovery.

Does that mean my cancer is in remission?

No, I can't say that. But it is progressing at a much slower rate than any of us expected. That's good news.

Then that means the medicine was working, doesn't it? I don't understand.

The medicine appeared to be effective in the first couple of months we administered it. But then its effectiveness appeared much diminished as treatment progressed. Now I think the treatment is actually working against you.

Then you gotta find somethin' else, said Collins.

That's what we're trying to do, Deshawn. But we can't keep you in this study.

What study?

Dr. Sengupta wiggled his fingers. I mean the experimental drug that you're on. Were on. There are some other possibilities that might prove more promising.

When can I get on those? Dennis told me that this was the best program.

At the time that Mr. Cruz was working with you, this was the best program. But the areas of oncological research are progressing every day. There are many new and promising avenues open to us. Perhaps we should schedule another meeting with Mr. Cruz and see if there is another doctor who might be better for you.

Deshawn Collins leaped off of his chair and began to pace the room, his fists clenched. I don't have time to try another doctor! You said I only had six months to live--

Yes, and that was nine months ago! You're doing remarkably well!

I can't afford to just do remarkably well, don't you understand? I've been getting more and more bills from the hospital for all sorts of things I thought was covered by Medicaid. You told me that everything would be covered.

It should be, Mr. Collins. I don't really know about the financial part of the business. That's something that's handled by my staff. Perhaps you should go talk to Debbie...

I don’t want to talk to Debbie! I came here to see you.

Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Collins, but I can't do anything for you. I sympathize with your situation, but my hands are tied.

Collins spun around and glared at Dr. Sengupta. Suddenly, his brow furrowed in rage, he began to tip over cabinets and furniture, screaming incoherently. The door to the exam room swung open and the lab technician, Ben Lawrence rushed in.

Are you okay, Doctor? he asked, ducking aside as Collins knocked over a utility table.

Get this madman out of here! yelled Dr. Sengupta.

Ben Lawrence, a man in his late twenties and considerably stronger than the older Deshawn Collins, grabbed the raging old man and half dragged and half pushed him through the examination room door, into the hallway. Although Deshawn Collins was old and out of shape, perhaps even debilitated by his many years of illness, he nonetheless was still a person of considerable vigor, and he resisted Lawrence's attempts to move him with increasing ferocity. Yet youth, as is often the case, prevailed over age, and Lawrence was able to push Collins into the waiting room.

Unfortunately, this was not a situation that Collins responded to happily. He began to shout, You can't kill me! You can't kill me! I will see you all dead before I die! I will kill you, you bastard Sengupta! I will kill all of you! As he shouted, he began to grab hold of furniture and toss it around the room. Two elderly patients, sitting on the side of the room screamed in terror as a chair crashed just feet from them. They jumped up, and in spite of their need for walkers, managed to scamper out of the room.

Call security, yelled Lawrence, call the police! A small table that once held well-thumbed magazines sailed over Lawrence's head as he ducked behind the counter.

As Collins' explosive tirade continued, Debbie, along with the nurse, Carly Roberts, ducked behind the counter, then crawled on hands and knees to the relative safety of the back hallway. They handcuffed him and led him out of the office.

It seemed like an eternity, but it was only a few minutes later that two policemen arrived on the scene and subdued Deshawn Collins.

Dr. Goshan Sengupta finally came out of hiding and surveyed the mess that was his outer office. Nurse Roberts crept out of the back room and stood next to him.

He said he was going to kill you, she said, her voice tight with tension.

He's just a crazy old man who's dying of cancer, said Sengupta. He deserves our pity, not our fear, Carly.

I don't know, Doc, said Ben Lawrence. I'd take it very seriously when someone threatened to kill me.

Dr. Sengupta nodded. He searched for the ranking police officer to explain just what happened.

CHAPTER ONE

SUNDAY, MARCH 4, 1800 HOURS

Mark MacFarland pulled into the driveway of the Cooper residence in Highland Park. He turned off the engine and sat, staring straight ahead at the garage door. Detective Cynthia Pierson, about to get out of the truck, stopped and looked at him quizzically.

Something wrong, Mac? she asked, brushing her hands through her copper-colored hair. Usually bound up in a ponytail, Pierson had freed her hair from its normal constraints.

We should have insisted that Rufus come with us, said MacFarland.

Pierson laughed. I envy Rufus' ability to get out of coming here, she said.

I just hope we don't end up talking about going to California all evening. It's not like it's really our idea.

Hey, don't include me in that discussion, said Pierson. I have no intention of going to California.

MacFarland smiled. Sure you don't want a vacation in LaLa Land?

I'm not really into vacations, Mac. You know that.

MacFarland nodded. Cynthia Pierson was dedicated to her job. As a detective in the Denver Police Department, her only interest in life was solving crimes. She was good at it, though she often joked that when she was partnered with MacFarland, she had been much better. I had you well-trained, she often said. Benny still needs a lot of coaching.

Benny Lockwood was a remarkable young man who had managed to survive several years as Pierson's partner. Before Lockwood, Pierson had gone through a number of partners, most of whom had lasted less than a couple of months, some as little as a week. MacFarland still held the department record for surviving with Pierson. He had lasted almost seven years.

We might as well get this over with, said MacFarland, opening the door of his truck and stepping out.

Pierson laughed and quickly joined him. I think Stefanie is a fun person, she said. We can survive it.

I can survive Stefanie, said MacFarland. It's Randy who drives me crazy.

Stefanie Cooper, the sister of MacFarland's deceased wife Nicole, was an attractive woman whom MacFarland often thought of as a rose forced to grow on a pile of garbage. The pile of garbage was Randy Cooper, her husband. Randy was a narrow-minded, opinionated, and rather boring man who had long regarded MacFarland as a loser. Randy respected men who were financially successful, a trait that MacFarland had never exhibited. MacFarland and Randy had never gotten along. More annoying, though, was Randy's complete disdain of MacFarland's best friend, Rufus Headley. A disdain that lasted until just recently, when Randy, a CPA by training, a financial consultant by vocation, had discovered that Rufus might be the possessor of a small fortune. All of a sudden, Rufus was now acceptable company in the Cooper household, though to be fair, Stefanie and the two Cooper children--Ryan and Kaitlyn--had always accepted Rufus as a member of the family.

MacFarland knocked on the door. It was, after all, Sunday evening, and Stefanie Cooper was trying to establish a tradition of Sunday night dinners. This tradition was ostensibly focused on getting her family to sit in one place and stare at each other long enough to possibly identify one another in a police lineup. But since MacFarland had sobered up enough to take a daily shower, Stefanie had made a point of trying to get him over for dinner. On some occasions, this had been a pretext to introduce him to one or another of her friends who might be desperate enough to find MacFarland attractive.

Not that MacFarland wasn't a good looking man, at least in his own opinion. At five-foot nine, he was a bit shorter than he would have liked. He still kept the weight off, giving him a rock solid appearance. His hair was short, a habit from the days when he was a Jarhead. He was clean shaven, and had what many women claimed were puppy dog eyes.

He was still not sure if that was a compliment or not.

The door swung open and Kaitlyn demurely smiled at her uncle and invited him in. At fourteen years of age, Kaitlyn had entered that awkward stage of her life where she was trying to be as grown up as possible, yet still had enough sense to hang onto the remnants of childhood. Today was one of her adult days.

Good evening, Kaitlyn, said MacFarland. How is the lady of the house tonight?

I am doing very good, Uncle Mark. Hi Cynthia. Come on in, dinner's almost ready. Then, forgetting her adult ways, she turned and screamed, Mom, they're here!

Stefanie hurried out from the kitchen, still wearing an apron. Who wears aprons anymore, wondered MacFarland. He had never seen Pierson in an apron. Hi Mark, hi Cynthia. Oh, isn't Rufus with you?

He wasn't feeling well, lied MacFarland, glancing briefly at Pierson for support. Pierson merely peered into the distance.

Too bad. Randy was looking forward to talking to him.

Stefanie offered them something to drink, which they both declined. As Stefanie removed a place setting from the table, she sent Kaitlyn to round up her father and brother, which the young lady grudgingly did.

She's grown a lot since Christmas, said Pierson.

Stefanie nodded. She's going through a growth spurt that's making life interesting.

Because you have to keep buying clothes? said MacFarland.

Stefanie gave him a puzzled look, then nodded. Yes, that's part of it. Have a seat. You two sit on that side of the table, Cynthia. The kids will sit on the other side. Randy! Turn off the television!

Kaitlyn and Ryan raced over to their seats and sat down, waiting impatiently for dinner to be served. Randy finally came in and sat at the head of the table.

What? Didn't you bring Rufus? he asked.

He's not feeling well, said Stefanie, serving potatoes to her two children. She plopped a scoop on her plate and passed the bowl to Pierson. There was little discussion as the evening meal was passed around and served to everyone. Finally, Randy paused between bites. We're planning on being in California during Easter Week, he announced. The kids will be off then, and we can all come out to California to work with Rufus.

To go to Disneyland! said Ryan loudly. Even Kaitlyn tried to echo the sentiment.

MacFarland looked at Randy uncertainly. I think the court date was set for March 19th, Randy.

Randy frowned. That's the week before Spring Break. I thought I told Rufus to get the date changed.

He doesn't know how to do that, said MacFarland. We're going to go to California on the fifteenth.

How are you getting out there?

I figured we'd drive the truck out. We can't afford to fly.

Driving out is expensive too, said Randy.

Still cheaper than flying, said MacFarland. Besides, can you imagine taking Rufus on a plane?

Randy was thoughtful for a moment. Then, putting down his knife and fork, he said, I guess that just ruins my kids' vacation. There's no way I can spend a week out there before Spring Break and then bring them all out.

Kaitlyn, Ryan, and Stefanie all stared mutely at Randy. Then Kaitlyn was the first to speak. Dad, are you saying we can't go to Disneyland on Spring break?

I'll have to be out there for a week before you guys can come out. That's going to be pretty expensive.

Ryan finally caught on to what his sister already understood. We're not going to Disneyland?

Stefanie looked at MacFarland, her face reflecting her distress. Randy, I think this is something that we should discuss in private.

Randy glared at MacFarland. Thanks a lot, Mark. You really screwed things for me and my family. I hope you're happy.

That's when the fireworks really began.

Stefanie, with hesitant reinforcement from Cynthia Pierson, tried to re-establish calm around the table, but after fifteen minutes of shouting between Randy and MacFarland, crying and tears from the children, Cynthia and Stefanie finally brought the dinner to a conclusion. Pierson urged MacFarland out the front door as Stefanie pushed Randy back into the TV room.

It's always interesting at your in-laws house, said Pierson as they drove north to Observatory Park.

CHAPTER TWO

MONDAY, MARCH 5, 0845 HOURS

No matter how gloomy Mondays were, they were always good days after a visit to the Cooper residence. At least that was what MacFarland kept telling himself as the skies continued to drizzle rain at a steady pace. It felt like the rain would last forever.

Why are we out here? asked Rufus. Nobody in his right mind is going to come out on a day like today.

It's days like today that we are most needed, said MacFarland. If someone is out on the streets today, they are surely desperate and in need.

I know at least two people who will be desperate and in need, said Rufus. And one of them is in need of an umbrella.

We have an awning on the hot dog truck, said MacFarland.

Yeah, but then where do the customers stand?

MacFarland looked around. I don't think there's much danger of that problem, he said. The only people they had seen had been prospective jurors who raced through the steady downpour with the clear intent of remaining in the path of the rain for as little time as possible.

Least we won't run out of coffee, said Rufus.

MacFarland leaned against his cart, wishing he had brought his language CDs with him. It was chilly, but not really that cold, so his usual excuse for not listening to his language CDs was somewhat mute. It was just laziness on his part.

No, it was more than laziness. Something was bothering him.

He said as much to Rufus.

Rufus nodded in agreement. I know exactly what you mean, boss. I got the same feeling.

MacFarland frowned. You know what's bothering me?

Rufus shook his head. How the hell would I know what's bothering you? I know what's bothering me.

MacFarland sighed. Okay, I'll bite. What's bothering you?

It's my friend, Deshawn, you know, the one who sent me a letter last week. I don't get many letters. Actually, can't think of any I got in a long time. Oh, there was those letters about the Khe Sahn Trust thingie, but I don't count those.

Neither of us gets much mail. Everyone uses email or Twitter these days, said MacFarland.

I don't use Twitter, said Rufus. Or emails so much. But this is taking me away from what I wanted to talk about. Deshawn. I ever tell you about him?

Not really. You said he was a guy who you knew in Texas. I gather that you two joined the army together.

Yeah. I joined to get away from my Daddy. I think Deshawn joined to get away from all the girls who was sweet on him.

He was a ladies' man?

You could say that. When we was in high school, he was the one who had all the girlfriends. He was really a stud back then and was on the football team. He wasn't the quarterback, but a lot of us thought he shoulda been.

You went to the same high school?

Oh, yes we was. They made the schools integrate when I was in grade school, and when I was in High School, there was a lot of blacks in my school. But there was still lots of prejudice back then, and black kids still had many problems. Deshawn didn't let none of that bother him, though. He just did his thing, but his thing was always getting him in trouble with the ladies. So he said we should join the army and after I turned eighteen, we did. But we got separated in Nam, and lost touch with each other. I don't know how he figured out where I was or how to get a letter to me.

Did he know anyone else who was part of the Khe Sanh agreement?

Oh, he might have known some of them. But he wasn't at Khe Sanh with us. But now I think about it, he was friends with Larry Brown, I do remember that.

Larry Brown had been one of the signatories to the Khe Sanh Trust Agreement. Larry had been killed six months earlier by the son of one of the signers of the agreement. It was entirely possible that Deshawn and Harry had kept in touch over the years. So what's bothering you about your friend? asked MacFarland.

Why'd he say his doctor's trying to kill him? That don't sound right to me. Doctors are supposed to help people.

MacFarland shrugged. I suspect that your friend isn't in good health and sometimes sick people don't react well to what their doctors are trying to do. And many old people tend to get more ornery in their old age. It could be nothing more than that.

What if it is more?

What do you think it might be?

What if the doctor is trying to kill him?

MacFarland didn't know what to say to this. Have you tried calling him?

I don't have to call him. Patrice called me. Yesterday.

MacFarland frowned. You didn't say anything about it last night.

You was busy complaining about your brother-in-law.

What did Patrice--she's Deshawn's wife, right?--say?

She said that he's in the hospital.

What? Why didn't you tell me this already? Is it serious?

I am telling you. I don't know how serious it is. He got upset when they tried to kill him at the doctor's office and sort of lost it. Deshawn sometimes could be pretty violent. So the police came and got him.

So he's in jail now?

Not jail. They took him to a hospital so they can calm him down. We need to go help him, boss.

Didn't we agree that we would go to LA on the fifteenth? That's only ten days from now.

I guess we did. That was so we'd be there in time for the court date on the nineteenth.

Yeah, I wanted to leave plenty of time for us to drive out there. I think it should take us about twenty hours, unless we spend the night someplace. We should be able to see your friend on the weekend before the court date.

Is that enough time for us to find out why his doctor is trying to kill him?

MacFarland smiled. It'll be enough time for us to find out what's going on, Rufus. Once we have an idea what is really happening, then we can figure out if anyone's trying to kill your friend.

Rufus tugged on his beard. I guess that's the best we can do, he said slowly.

That's all we can do, said MacFarland. Just try our best.

Although Rufus seemed satisfied with that plan of action, MacFarland realized that his own problems hadn't even been addressed, much less resolved. Why don't we stay until noon, Rufus, and if the rain lets up, we can stay longer. Otherwise we can go home then.

Gee, boss, you're full of good ideas today!

CHAPTER THREE

MONDAY, MARCH 5, 0920 HOURS

Half an hour later, the rain had not let up, but the inclement weather didn't prevent Detective Cynthia Pierson and her partner Benny Lockwood from coming over to the cart and helping themselves to coffee.

Great weather for ducks! said Lockwood, his humor forced and unnatural.

MacFarland stared at him. Surprised to find you out in weather like this, he said.

Pierson gulped her coffee. At least in weather like this, the smart crooks are all inside keeping warm.

MacFarland nodded. Violent crime and robberies tended to go down during bad weather. Unfortunately, there was always enough crime committed during good weather to keep a cop busy no matter what the weather was. That doesn't explain why you two are out in this weather.

We need to talk to you, said Pierson.

MacFarland's ears perked up. He was always interested in the latest crime that Pierson and Lockwood were working on, since their coming to him often meant they were stymied in their investigation. He liked it when people admitted they needed his help. Okay, here I am.

Lockwood was the one who started speaking. On Saturday morning, Deanna was driving back to Grand Junction. I didn't know she was heading back then. I thought she was going to spend the weekend with her parents.

Skip to the exciting part, Benny, said Pierson impatiently.

MacFarland shared Pierson's impatience. Deanna Sparks and he had once dated, and while they weren't as compatible as he would have liked, he still had lingering hopes that some spark would rekindle the flames of their relationship.

Lockwood gave her an annoyed glance. It seems that as she was driving along, she was forced off the road by a trucker.

MacFarland became alarmed. What? Was she hurt?

No, she wasn't hurt. Not badly. Just banged up a bit, but nothing broken, no concussions, no broken bones.

This happened Saturday morning?

Yes. Deanna was just west of Elizabeth when she noticed a truck tailgating her. She said there was little traffic on I-70, so there was no problem of the truck passing her, but it didn't. When she changed lanes to allow the truck to pass, it changed lanes also. She tried to slow down so the truck could pass, but he didn't. Finally, the truck did try to pass her, but as it did so, it pulled into her lane and forced her off the highway.

Did the truck hit her vehicle at all?

Yeah. That's why she lost control.

Good, said MacFarland, looking happy for the first time.

Good? Lockwood couldn't hide his surprise.

If the truck hit her vehicle, explained Pierson, there will be paint transfer from her vehicle to the truck and vice versa. We should be able to get paint evidence from the truck and help identify what make of truck it was.

Oh. I didn't think of that, admitted Lockwood.

It's basic, Benny, said MacFarland. I think maybe you're too close to the case to see things clearly. Did Deanna see the driver?

Lockwood, feeling chastised, shook his head.

What about a license plate? Did she get that?

Again Lockwood shook his head. She didn't think about doing that until after she crashed into the drainage ditch on the side of the highway.

What about the truck itself? Did she what trailer it was pulling?

It didn't have a trailer. It was just a black cab.

Have they found the truck? It may have the evidence we need to prove it hit Deanna's car.

They are still looking for the truck, said Lockwood, morosely. We've even asked the Utah authorities for help in finding the truck.

How is Deanna?

She's getting better. Unfortunately, I think she blames you for the attempt on her life.

Me?

Yes, you, Mac. You're the one who caused all sorts of problems with her job.

That's absurd, protested MacFarland. I need to talk to her.

Lockwood shook his head. I don't think that's a good idea. Give her time, Mac. Let her get over the accident.

But the accident wasn't my fault. There's no way to tie the accident to me. And I can't believe that Deanna's involvement with me and the murder investigation was sufficient to get someone to try to kill her. I think if you go down that route, Benny, you will miss out on what's really going on.

Don't shoot me, Mac, I'm just the messenger, passing on how she feels.

Who's investigating this right now? asked MacFarland.

The Highway Patrol is looking into it, but primarily as an instance of road rage. They're not looking into any aspect of an attempted murder.

Pierson got another cup of coffee. Benny and I are convinced that it was a botched attempt at homicide, she said. Even if that is not the official interpretation. We're going to keep looking into it. Your help would be appreciated.

I want to help, said MacFarland, But I have this trip to LA that's coming up in a couple of weeks. I'll do what I can before then.

That would be good, Mac. Just don't try to see Deanna. Give her time, okay?

MacFarland looked at Lockwood. If that's what you think is best, he said.

As Lockwood and Pierson headed back to Police Headquarters, Rufus stepped over to stand close to MacFarland. You're going to see her, aren't you, boss?

You're damn right I'm going to, said MacFarland, his voice tense with determination.

CHAPTER FOUR

TUESDAY, MARCH 6, 1145 HOURS

Tuesday was a much better day than Monday. MacFarland and Rufus were quite busy with the early morning traffic, providing coffee, donuts, and Danish to those hurrying over to their rendezvous with court. The clear skies and the warmer temperatures put everyone in a better mood.

I'm going to go see Deanna today, announced MacFarland.

Rufus nodded. Figured you'd do that, said the Vietnam Vet. When you going to see her?

I'll try to be back before the noon rush, said MacFarland.

Rufus cocked his head to one side. His attitude indicated his doubt about MacFarland's ability to meet that commitment. Just be back before dark, said Rufus.

MacFarland stared at Rufus in disbelief. Rufus, of course I'll be back before dark. I said I'd be back before lunch.

MacFarland got into his truck and headed north towards the home of Deanna Sparks' parents. When MacFarland had been dating her--it was only a few dates, he reminded himself--she had lived with her parents, but often used the apartment in the building where the Democratic Party had its campaign office. At least that was the place where she and MacFarland had rendezvoused a couple of times.

Then she had dumped MacFarland and took up with Benny Lockwood.

It wasn't because she liked Benny better than MacFarland.

She left MacFarland because she just couldn't take the tension of dating a man who courted danger day after day. Now, while it was true that Lockwood courted just as much danger as MacFarland, the young detective had the advantage of being partners with Cynthia Pierson. Pierson was a more than adequate protector of novice detectives.

It took him half an hour to drive to Arvada and find Deanna's parents' house. He parked on the street and knocked on the door. A middle-aged woman, presumably Deanna's mother, answered the door.

Hello, Mrs. Sparks, I'm Mark MacFarland. Is Deanna home today?

The woman looked cautiously at MacFarland and nodded. She's in the kitchen making lunch. She pulled the door open wider. Do you want to come in?

MacFarland nodded and entered the house. The front entranceway was rather grand, accentuated with an immense chandelier. Right in front of him, an immense stairway led to the second level. To his left, a large archway led to a sitting room. On the right, the archway led to a living room. From where he stood, he could see the open floorplan that led to the kitchen. He followed Mrs. Sparks through the living room into the kitchen.

Deanna looked up, surprise clearly on her face. Mark! What are you doing here?

I came to see how you were doing, said MacFarland.

I'm...fine, she said. Oh, Mom, this is Mark MacFarland. He's that detective I told you about. Mark, this is my mother, Luanne.

MacFarland smiled at Mrs. Sparks. Pleased to meet you, ma'am.

Mrs. Sparks responded with her own broad smile. I'm glad to meet you. Are you investigating who forced my daughter off the road?

I am one of many people looking into that, Mrs. Sparks. MacFarland hoped his statement was true. He did not have confidence that the CHP would really do more than the cursory minimum investigation. He could count on greater effort from Pierson and Lockwood, but their hands were tied. How much time could they spend outside of the greater Denver area?

Deanna finished making a sandwich for her mother. Mom, do you mind letting us talk?

Mrs. Sparks nodded. No problem, Dee, I'll go to the study.

After her mother left the room, Deanna turned to stare at MacFarland. I didn't expect you to show up, she said.

Why wouldn't I show up? he asked. According to Benny, someone tried to kill you.

It seemed that way to me. I did everything I could to get out of his way, but he kept changing lanes to remain behind me. And then when he finally did try to pass me, he pulled right into my car, forcing me off the road.

MacFarland frowned. Benny said that his vehicle actually banged into your car. Is that correct?

Yes, he hit me. I was trying to get over to the right, but he kept coming. When he hit the side of my car, I lost control of it and it veered off the highway. They said that I had skidded at least several hundred feet before my car finally landed in the drainage ditch. I'm lucky that the car didn't roll over.

Yes, agreed MacFarland. That would have been terrible, though cars are built much better these days. You could have survived a rollover.

That's encouraging. I'm just glad I didn't have to test the strength of modern cars.

I didn't mean it like that, said MacFarland. Did you get a look at the driver?

Deanna shook her head. All I saw was the truck. It was huge! I couldn't see inside the truck.

Do you think it was someone from the Democratic Party, trying to send you a message?

Deanna laughed. What an absurd idea! Why would they do that?

I'm just considering all options, Deanna.

Those people are my friends. They wouldn't hurt me. And why? It's not as though I caused the problems. I was just part of the scenery.

MacFarland wasn't sure how to respond to that comment. He considered telling her that she was a very attractive part of the scenery, but decided that it was too corny to utter. Benny said that you blamed me.

She frowned. No, I don't blame you, Mark. You were just doing your job. You're certainly not the cause of someone trying to force me off the road. Don't pay attention to what Benny says. He's just jealous of you.

That observation was mildly reassuring. Is there anyone who might want to hurt you?

These are all questions the police and Benny asked me already, Mark. I can't think of anyone like that. I don't have any enemies! Certainly not any enemies that own a truck. I don't even have friends who are truck drivers! Deanna was starting to get choked up as she spoke, and by the time she finished, tears were forming in her eyes.

MacFarland approached her and held his arms open. Deanna leaned into his arms and let him hug her. While he was never sure exactly how it happened, a short while later, MacFarland discovered that Deanna did have her own room in the house...and she had no qualms about inviting MacFarland to spend the afternoon with her.

CHAPTER FIVE

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 7, 1815 HOURS

MacFarland and Rufus parked the hot dog cart, still not speaking with each other. MacFarland had returned to the cart late the previous day, with only a lame apology to Rufus for not making it back for the lunch hour rush. Rufus hadn't said anything, but merely started shutting down the cart. Nor had Rufus said anything all of Wednesday. When it came to being stubborn, no one in the universe was more adept at the skill than Rufus Headley.

Pierson looked up at the two men who were cleaning the pots and pans, rigorously avoiding talking to each other, but just as vigorously trying to bump into the other every chance they got.

What is wrong with you guys? she demanded after five minutes of jostling and elbowing. You're acting like children!

Nothing! spat MacFarland.

Nothing here either, said Rufus, using his hips to push MacFarland away from the sink. MacFarland shoved back.

Okay, that's enough! said Pierson. Leave the damn pans!

We're almost done, said MacFarland.

Rufus can finish up by himself, said Pierson. You have to come with me.

MacFarland put down the pan he was drying and looked at Pierson. Where?

Out to dinner.

Dinner?

Yeah, asshole. You know what the concept is? Taking someone out for dinner?

But it's Wednesday. I have to go to my AA meeting. I've missed going for the past couple of weeks. I even got a call from my sponsor asking where I was.

There are AA meetings every day of the week. You can go tomorrow. Right now, you're coming with me.

MacFarland frowned with concern. It was not like Pierson to interfere with his sobriety program.

Rufus stared at MacFarland and Pierson, his face reflecting his puzzlement. He's acting like an asshole and you take him out to dinner? That seems like you're rewarding his bad behavior.

Pierson laughed. Don't worry, Rufus, going out to dinner with me is hardly a reward. Mac knows he's going to get chewed out.

MacFarland's face showed that was fully what he expected. Rufus shrugged and went back to cleaning the pans.

Pierson drove them to Poppies Restaurant on Colorado. As usual, the restaurant was crowded, but after waiting a few minutes, Pierson and MacFarland were seated at a table for two. MacFarland had never been in here before. He looked around at the generally older crowd. He was surprised that Pierson came here. She explained that it had been one of her father's favorite restaurants and she came here when she wanted to re-establish her roots.

What did you want to chew me out about? asked MacFarland after they had placed their orders.

Why are you and Rufus not talking?

He's just being a jerk.

Mac!

I said that I would be back at the cart, and I was a late.

How late?

I was gone all afternoon.

Their salads arrived and Pierson focused her attention on the lettuce. Then, between bites, she asked, You don't have a case, do you?

No, not now.

Then what were you doing all afternoon? Did you go out to see Deanna?

MacFarland tried not to look at Pierson. He nodded his head slightly. She doesn't seem to blame me for what happened to her, he said.

Pierson laughed. You believed that nonsense from Benny?

I was worried about it.

So what did you do with her that took all afternoon? No, wait. Don't tell me. I don't want to know.

MacFarland hadn't been planning on telling Pierson, but he was bothered that she interpreted whatever happened in a questionable light.

Pierson changed the subject. When are you going to LA with Rufus?

Next week. We're going to drive out on Thursday. That'll give us the weekend to figure out what we're doing. Rufus needs adjustment time.

Is Randy going to join you?

I don't think so. He hasn't mentioned anything about it.

Pierson smiled. And you haven't told him what day you're leaving, have you?

We sort of told him. He knows what day the court appearance is. If he's so interested in helping, he can travel over the weekend. Though, to be quite honest, I'm not sure what he can contribute to the case. He's not a lawyer, after all.

Neither are you or Rufus. I'm not sure why Rufus hasn't gotten a lawyer.

He can't afford one, Cyn.

Pierson looked pained. I would have paid for a lawyer, she said.

MacFarland couldn't hide his surprise. Lawyers can be expensive, Cyn. Would you be that committed?

Rufus is my friend, said Pierson. Of course I would do whatever it takes to help him.

CHAPTER SIX

THURSDAY, MARCH 8, 1020 HOUR

We really need to put a plan together, said Billie Wiznezski. Without a plan, you can waste valuable time and resources.

Rufus nodded solemnly. I don't have much resources, though I got a lot of time. I probably got more time than most people, ‘cause all I do is stand around doing nothing.

Yes, but when we're in Los Angeles, you won't be standing around doing nothing.

What will I be doing? asked Rufus.

That's what we have to figure out, said Wiznezski. I've made a list of the things we need to do. He pulled a paper out of his pocket and started reading off of it.

First, we need to check into the hotel. It's got to be a good hotel, one that will keep up appearances.

Why do we need to keep up appearances? asked MacFarland.

Part of winning our case, said Wiznezski, is intimidating the opposition. If they find out we're in a cheap motel, then they will know we're desperate...

I ain't desperate. I don't really need the money, so it don't bother me if we don't get it, said Rufus.

That's not the right attitude, Rufus. You have to go for the jugular, otherwise, the opposition will eat you alive. Besides, don't you want that flat screen TV?

I already have a TV, said Rufus.

You mean that piece of junk you dug out of the dumpster? asked MacFarland. Does it even work?

I don't know, admitted Rufus. I ain't turned it on yet. I don't really watch television.

We'll get you a great TV that you will love to watch, said Wiznezski. But to do that, we need to win in court. So we have to impress the court, and we can't do that if we're staying in a dump.

MacFarland shook his head. I don't think the people in court will know where we're living, he said.

Wiznezski tried to ignore MacFarland. Second, we need to get you a suit.

A suit? Rufus looked worried. I don't have a suit. I never worn a suit.

We'll get you a suit, Rufus. You'll look so smart! It's all part of going for the jugular.

Seems like I should keep my army jacket if I'm going for the jugular. Why would I want to get blood on a suit?

Wiznezski looked over at MacFarland. He does realize that it's just a figure of speech, doesn't he?

MacFarland shrugged. Sometimes Rufus is quite literal. If he tells you he's going for your jugular, I'd suggest you back off.

Wiznezski frowned, then looked at his sheet of paper. Third, we need to get a good meal Sunday night.

What about Saturday night? Shouldn't we eat good then too?

Yes, of course. I just thought it was important to have a good meal the evening before we go to court.

What if I eat a puffer fish?

Why would you eat a puffer fish?

Because you said I should have a good meal. I heard that Japanese people think puffer fish is really special.

Wiznezski shook his head. We won't go to a Japanese restaurant. We'll get true American steaks.

Steaks from Texas beef?

Wiznezski frowned. How would I know? We'll be in California, so I imagine that it would be California beef.

Then I wouldn't eat it. I only eat Texas beef. That's what Randy eats.

Randy eats Texas beef? Wiznezski looked at MacFarland for support.

Don't look to me, said MacFarland. I'm still sorting out the puffer fish.

We'll look for a Texan Steak House, said Wiznezski, starting to feel a bit beaten down. Number four. The day of the court hearing. We have to arrive early.

Why not on time?

What do you mean on time?

Why do we have to arrive early? Why not just arrive when it starts?

It starts when the judge arrives.

Then we should arrive when he arrives.

Wiznezski lowered his head. Yes, we'll arrive when the judge arrives. Maybe a few minutes earlier so we can get good seats.

I forgot about getting good seats, said Rufus. Okay, we can arrive a little early. That makes a lot of sense, Billie. I'm glad I talked to you about this. Planning is a good idea.

Wiznezski looked pleased. I've got some more items on my plan, he said.

Oh, I think that's enough planning for one day, said Rufus. Too much planning can just get you confused.

I know I'm confused, said MacFarland, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

But what about the rest of my plan? asked Billie.

We'll have plenty of time during the drive down to Los Angeles, said Rufus.

Hey, wait a minute! interrupted MacFarland. Who said anything about him travelling with us?

Oh, I thought we had agreed on that, said Rufus.

Yeah, I thought we had agreed on that, said Wiznezski.

We hadn't agreed on anything, said MacFarland. The only discussion we had was that we were all going to LA on our own. You go however you can, Billie, and if Randy wants to go to LA, he can do it on his own.

How's Rufus going to get to LA? asked Wiznezski.

I'm driving to LA. It'll cost the same as flying, but at least I'll have my truck in LA. So Rufus is going with me.

Thanks, boss, said Rufus.

No problem, Rufus. We're a team, said MacFarland.

I'm part of the team, insisted Wiznezski.

A small annoying part of the team, muttered MacFarland.

What? asked Wiznezski. I couldn't hear what you said.

I said you still have to get there on your own, said MacFarland. Sorry, but there's no room in the truck.

How can there be no room in the truck? It's a Ford F350. That's a big friggin' truck!

We might have lots of luggage, said Rufus.

Wiznezski looked at Rufus, then at MacFarland. Ah, you guys are just pulling my leg. Very funny! Well, see you around, Rufus.

After Wiznezski left, Rufus stared at MacFarland. It wasn't much of plan, was it?

MacFarland laughed. No, Rufus, it wasn't. But we will probably let him come with us if he wants to.

Now it was Rufus' turn to laugh. You are way too kind, boss.

CHAPTER SEVEN

FRIDAY, MARCH 9, 0730 HOURS

MacFarland and Rufus had just finished setting up their cart. The day promised to be much warmer than the previous several days, and MacFarland was anxious to get a good start to the weekend. After all, within a week, he and Rufus would be off on an adventure that might take up a lot of their time. During that period, MacFarland wouldn't be there for his homeless friends. Going to Los Angeles was not a decision that MacFarland took lightly.

Boss, there's something I got to talk to you about, said Rufus.

Sure Rufus. Let's get the hot dogs on the rollers. As MacFarland placed the hot dogs and brats on the rollers, he looked over at his friend. You look upset. What's bothering you?

You know how we're supposed to go to Los Angeles next Thursday?

MacFarland nodded. That's the plan.

What if we change the plan?

MacFarland cocked his head, questioningly. Was the court appearance postponed?

Not that I know of, said Rufus. Why would it be postponed? Oh, because Randy wants it later on. No, that's not what I meant.

What did you mean?

Can we go to Los Angeles today?

Today! You want to go today?

Rufus nodded. I got a call from Patrice this morning.

This morning? California is an hour later than us. She must have been up at dawn.

Before dawn, I'd say, said Rufus. I don't think she went to bed last night.

What's wrong? Is her husband back in the hospital?

No, he got let out of the hospital. On Wednesday. They decided he was okay, I guess.

So what happened?

He got arrested yesterday.

For threatening the doctor?

Rufus shook his head. No, not really that. He got arrested for killing the doctor.

What? Are you serious? What did she tell you?

She told me that he got arrested for killing the doctor.

I mean, are there any other details that she mentioned?

Oh, yeah. She said that he didn't do it.

And?

She also said that he don't own a gun, so he couldn't have done it.

The doctor--what's his name?

I don't remember. I don't know if she said the name. But it was the doctor who's trying to kill him, so actually, I can understand why Deshawn would want to kill him. But he didn't really do it.

Any other details?

Hmmm. I wonder if his initials are important.

What do you mean?

The reason the police picked up Deshawn was because the dead guy used his own blood to write the initials D C on the floor when he was dying.

MacFarland whistled. That's not a good thing, but it doesn't necessarily mean Deshawn did it.

That's what I thought. He needs my help, boss. I got to go help him.

Does he have a lawyer?

I don't know.

Do they have any other evidence against him?

I don't know.

What do you know?

I know that we got to go to Los Angeles. Right away.

I understand, Rufus, but we can't just drop everything and race off to Los Angeles.

I can. I can hitch a ride to Los Angeles.

No, you're not going to do that, Rufus. I'll take you. I just need time to make arrangements. You should have told me about the call before we came downtown.

I would have, but we was busy getting the hot dog cart set up. I thought I should wait until we had more time.

No matter, said MacFarland. We will handle the morning crowd and then head back home.

When are we going to go to Los Angeles?

How about tomorrow morning? We can leave real early and drive all day. Who knows, we might get there tomorrow night.

Will that be soon enough?

The wheels of justice turn very slowly, Rufus, said MacFarland. We will help your friend, don't worry about that.

So you'll find out who the real killer is?

MacFarland frowned. I can't promise that, Rufus. I'll do whatever I can, but I can't promise anything. Let's get there first and see what's going on.

Rufus seemed to relax. I knew I could count on you, boss. You'll find the killer and free Deshawn.

MacFarland nodded uncertainly. He wasn't sure exactly what he had committed to.

CHAPTER EIGHT

SATURDAY, MARCH 10, 0630 HOURS

Get out of the way! yelled MacFarland.

No! I'm going with you! yelled Billie Wiznezski, standing in front of MacFarland's truck.

MacFarland seriously considered just running the man over, but he realized that the idiot might not get out of the way. We're already running late, shouted MacFarland. We don't have time for you to get your things.

Wiznezski hoisted a large suitcase up in the air. I'm already packed, he said.

How did he find out that we're leaving? muttered MacFarland, more to himself than to Rufus.

I mighta mentioned it, admitted Rufus. You did say he could go with us when we drove to Los Angeles.

Yeah, but I was thinking that would be next Thursday. I don't see why he's coming with us now. It's more than a week before the court trial.

I don't think he's gonna move, boss. Are you going to run him over?

Oh, hell, I guess we might as well let him get in. Just so you know, Rufus, I'm against this whole idea.

Of going to Los Angeles?

No, of bringing Wiznezski with us. Nevertheless, MacFarland gestured for Wiznezski to get into the truck and sit in the back seat.

Wiznezski jumped into the back seat of the truck and stored his suitcase on top of the duffle bags that MacFarland and Rufus had already tossed there.

Be careful you don't crush the chips, warned MacFarland, a tad late as he heard the crunch of the bag of snack food.

Oh, is that food? asked Wiznezski. Sorry, didn't see it.

You didn't look, snarled MacFarland, pulling his truck out into the alley.

The day had hardly started out the way MacFarland expected.

MacFarland had wanted to get an early start. As early as three in the morning. But when he went down to the kitchen, he didn't find Rufus waiting for him.

Scowling, MacFarland went down to the basement to see what was taking Rufus so long.

Rufus was still soundly asleep.

Rufus! Get up, we've got to go.

Rufus peeked out from under a pile of blankets. I just fell asleep, boss. Just give me a few more minutes.

I told you I wanted an early start. Come on, get up!

Just a few minutes more?

MacFarland sighed. He went back upstairs and made a pot of coffee. After two hours of waiting, MacFarland went back down to Rufus' sleeping area. The Vietnam Vet was finally getting out of bed.

I feel much better now, he said.

Good, let's go.

Can't, said Rufus. Rufus still had to pack up his duffle bag.

I told you last night to pack up, said MacFarland.

I couldn't figure out what to take, said Rufus. That's what kept me up so late.

Well, how much do you have?

Not much, admitted Rufus.

Then it shouldn't be hard, Rufus. Come on, we need to leave! We're wasting valuable time.

The three men were finally on the road, heading towards the mountains by six-thirty in the morning. The first fifteen minutes passed in silence, a condition that MacFarland found conducive to the long trip ahead. Unfortunately, as they passed Lookout Mountain, the silence came to an end. Rufus and Wiznezski began to argue about something. MacFarland wasn't even sure what the topic was. After a few minutes of the annoying banter, he turned on the radio, searching for a station to drown out the two old men.

Can we stop at Idaho Springs? asked Wiznezski.

Why? MacFarland didn't want to stop until they got past Vail.

I have to pee, said Wiznezski.

Why didn't you go before we left?

I did. But at my age, you have to pee a lot more often. You'll discover that one of these days.

MacFarland groaned, but pulled off I-70 and found a gas station. While Wiznezski used the facilities, MacFarland sat in his truck, fuming about the delay. He considered just abandoning Wiznezski, but realized that such an action would not go down well with Rufus.

A short while later, they were passing the Georgetown Reservoir. Sure would be nice to go fishing, said Rufus, stretching to look at the water out the window.

You can go fishing in California, said MacFarland.

They passed through the Eisenhower Tunnel with constant arguments over the crushed potato chips. Boss, we gotta stop at Silverthorne, said Rufus, as the truck sped downhill from the summit of the mountain.

Why Rufus?

So we can get more chips. This idiot crushed the bag we had.

They're still potato chips, Rufus. Just smaller chips. Eat those.

I like to lick the salt off the chip before I eat it, said Rufus. It's hard to do that with tiny chips.

Ugh, that's disgusting, Rufus. I'm not stopping.

What if I have to pee? You stopped for Billie so that he could pee.

Oh, crap, okay, I'll stop!

And stop he did. At Vail, at Rifle, at Grand Junction, at Green River, at Salina, at Richfield, at Beaver, at Parowan, and at Cedar City. Now they were approaching St. George in southern Utah.

Can't you guys coordinate your peeing? demanded MacFarland.

It's not healthy to hold it in, said Wiznezski. Are you trying to kill us?

I'm considering it, muttered MacFarland.

So far, a trip that should have taken at most twelve hours had taken almost fifteen hours. It was already past nine-thirty. MacFarland estimated that he could get to Los Angeles in another five or six hours, but that would have them arriving in the wee hours of the morning. "We should get a hotel here, then get an early start tomorrow