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know wants to drive a Rambler? That alone takes balls.”
    “I don’t think Leonard likes the Rambler,” I said. “He got it cheap.”
    “Yeah. Well, add this shotgun stuff in with the other stuff. The boyfriend business, Leonard not being home. It kinda adds up big-time nasty, don’t it?”
    “What about Raul? Any word there?”
    “Zip. Which don’t look good neither.”
    “Any charges filed against Leonard?”
    “Not yet. I’m the only one that’s put any of this together. Incorrectly, I hope.”
    I got out of bed and started for the closet.
    “What are you doin’?” Charlie said.
    “Keep what you think might be to yourself, will you, Charlie?”
    “I’m an officer of the law, Hap. I can’t — You’re not goin’ anywhere. It’ll fuck up your insurance if you leave.”
    “I got to find Leonard. I got a better chance than anyone else. All you got to do is not tie things together just yet. Give me a little time. This way Leonard isn’t forced into hiding if he didn’t do this business.”
    “Didn’t do it, he won’t need to hide.”
    “State he’s in, he might think he needs to. But I can tell you now, he didn’t do this. Well, he probably did beat the hell out of that guy and shoot up the bar. And he probably drove that Rambler with a sense of pride. That’s his style. But ambushin’ some guy. Blowin’ off his head like that. That’s not his style.”
    “There’s one other thing.”
    “What?”
    “A Rambler, formerly white, before it was gutted by fire, was found in a pasture off Highway Fifty-nine.”
    “Was it Bill Duffin’s pasture?”
    “It was. And if I remember right, wasn’t that the pasture where the squirrel jumped you? We’re gettin’ lots of coincidences here. Black guy knockin’ knots on a biker guy’s head, shootin’ a twelve-gauge, drivin’ a Rambler.”
    “Then I’ve really got no choice,” I said. “I have to leave.”
    I slipped on my pants without underwear, pulled the gown over my head and tossed it on the bed. I put on my T-shirt.
    “All I’m asking, Charlie, is you give me some space here. Okay?”
    “Hap, I’ve done you guys a lot of favors. But—”
    “Do us one more.”
    “You see how it looks. He went in there, lost his temper, knotted up a biker’s melon, ran off in the Rambler, bikers chased him down. He shot the guy off the bike from the car. Then the others overtook him, burned the car to slow down identification . . . then . . . well, I don’t think they took Leonard out to dinner.”
    I pulled my socks and shoes from the closet. I said, “They didn’t find a body, so I’m going to figure on Leonard being alive. He isn’t indestructible, but he isn’t any pushover either. Did they find a shotgun and a revolver in the car?”
    “No, but so what? Bikers could have taken that before they burned it. Why not? Good shotgun and a revolver. They’d want it.”
    “Maybe. But I’m thinking he got away, and he’s out there somewhere, needing help.”
    “Hap, man, say he is alive . . . I’m crazy about the guy. Leonard, me and him are tight. But we’re talkin’ murder here. I don’t never get that tight with nobody. Hear what I’m sayin’?”
    “Sounds like self-defense to me.”
    “What? He goes in and beats a guy up and the guy goes after him and Leonard kills him. Biker wasn’t armed, Hap.”
    “You say the Rambler was found in Duffin’s pasture. That isn’t near where the biker was killed, is it?”
    “So they chased him. He tried to dart into the pasture and hide. They caught him. It stands to reason.”
    “He certainly ran them a merry chase from Old Pine Road all the way out to Duffin’s pasture.”
    “Yeah. All right. That’s a point. But it could have happened way I said.”
    “Bikers say they saw Leonard shoot this guy? Anyone say that?”
    “No. They just say they chased him. But a lot of questions haven’t been asked yet. They caught up and killed him, they ain’t gonna admit it right away. For all we