not sure there’s a guard out there.”
“I’ll call—”
“But if there is, and he pokes his head in the door, you and I are going to ram this log in his face.”
She didn’t reply, then said, “What if there are two guards?”
“There won’t be.”
“Scott… we’re actually chained to this log.”
“He’ll have the keys.”
“Please. Let it rest. Think about what to say to Kyle Mercer.” She added, “We could be seeing him in ten minutes.”
“Right.” He stood, then crouched and looked at the chains, which were long enough for them to get the log up to waist level and still have freedom of movement with their legs. “Stand up.”
She hesitated, then stood.
“Okay, crouch, and on three, lift.”
“Scott—”
“We need to see if we can do this before we get too weak from hunger.” He asked, “Do you remember what you were taught about escaping early?”
“I do, and I also remember that you forget everything you’ve learned except what suits you.”
“Right. Okay. Ready?”
She took a deep breath and crouched, and they both dug their hands into the palm fronds and under the log.
“One, two, lift—”
They lifted, and the log rose from the floor; they were able to get it up to hip level. It was heavy, but not as heavy as Brodie had anticipated. “Okay?”
She nodded.
“I’ll swing it around. You just hold.” He took small steps, swinging the log so it was pointed at the door. “Let’s step forward. Ready?”
“Okay…”
“Step.” He took a step toward the door, which was less than four feet away. “Okay, if I charged that door—or someone standing in the door—could you keep your end up and follow?”
“I think… it’s getting heavy.”
“Okay. Good practice run.”
Brodie moved his end of the log back to where it had been, and Taylor held on as he positioned it. “On three, we drop it. One, two, three—”
They let go of the log and it dropped to the ground, making a dull thud, and the chains rattled.
“Sit.”
They both sat with their backs against the wall and their shackled feet up on the log.
They waited to see if a guard had heard the noise and came in. But there was no sound outside the door.
Brodie drew a deep breath. “Okay… that is a weapon in our arsenal.”
She didn’t respond.
“We’ll use it at the right moment.”
“When is that?”
“Always after dark.” He reminded her, “Dark is the great equalizer. The friend of the fugitive.”
“You’re impressing me with your sudden textbook recall.”
“It all comes back to you when you need it.”
“True. All right, now that we’ve done that your way, can we talk about Kyle Mercer before we see him?”
“Okay.”
“Can you tell me why Mr. and Mrs. Bowman would ask for Señor Kyle by name?”
“Because Scott Brodie didn’t want Maggie Taylor raped or himself murdered.”
“Okay… so we can drop the Bowmans.”
“I didn’t like them anyway.”
“So we are Warrant Officers Taylor and Brodie, CID.”
“Correct.”
“All right. You and I need to be on the same page. We need to present ourselves as the tip of a great iceberg that is coming toward him. He can kill us, but he can’t kill what we represent.”
“He knows that. And by the way, he doesn’t like what we represent,” Brodie pointed out.
“We represent justice. That’s what we can offer him.”
“It’s hard to reason with a man who has crossed every line there is.”
“We have to convince him that he can cross back. We have to offer him a way to redemption. To salvation.”
“Is that from Sunday school?”
“It is.”
“Well, then you should ask yourself how you crossed those lines before you ask Kyle Mercer.”
“I know what I did. I lost my way. And I know that confession is good for the soul. And Kyle Mercer is no different from any human being in that regard.”
“I don’t know about that, Maggie.”
“Ask yourself why he didn’t kill Al Simpson. Or why he didn’t kill Carmen.”
“He should have. And by now he knows or suspects he should have.”
“But why didn’t he kill them?”
“He didn’t think he needed to. He’s arrogant.”
“I believe there is still a spark of humanity in him.”
Brodie thought about Mercer in the Hen House, buying a night of freedom for Julieta. What was that about?
“And if we find that spark, we’ll know what we can offer him.”
“Maggie, the only thing we can offer him is a long stretch in Leavenworth. He knows that, and if we try to bullshit him, he’ll get pissed, and if we try to save his soul, he’ll laugh. Either way, he’s not buying what you’re selling.”
“All right, how would you