If he was never found； they would stay in Memphis。 If the feds caught him； they would hit the road； Jack。
Run； Mitch； run！
The rooms at the Blue Tide Motel were narrow and tacky。 The carpet was twenty years old and badly worn。 The bedspreads had cigarette burns。 But luxury was unimportant。
After dark Thursday； Ray stood behind Abby with a pair of scissors and snipped delicately around her ears。 Two towels under the chair were covered with her dark hair。 She watched him carefully in the mirror next to the antique color television and was free with her instructions。 It was a boyish cut； well above the ears； with bangs。 He stepped back and admired his work。
〃Not bad；〃 he said。
She smiled and brushed hair from her arms。 〃I guess I need to color it now；〃 she said sadly。 She walked to the tiny； bathroom and closed the door。
She emerged an hour later as a blonde。 A yellowish blonde。 Ray was asleep on the bedspread。 She knelt on the dirty carpet and scooped up the hair。
She picked it from the floor and filled a plastic garbage bag。 The empty dye bottle and the applicator were thrown in with the hair； and she tied the bag。 There was a knock at the door。
Abby froze； and listened。 The curtains were pulled tightly。 She slapped Ray's feet。 Another knock。 Ray jumped from the bed and grabbed the gun。
〃Who is it？〃 she whispered loudly at the window。
〃Sam Fortune；〃 he whispered back。
Ray unlocked the door； and Mitch stepped in。 He grabbed Abby and bear…hugged Ray。 The door was locked； the lights turned off； and they sat on the bed in the darkness。 He held Abby tightly。 With so much to say； the three said nothing。
A tiny； weak ray of light from the outside filtered under the curtains and； as minutes passed； gradually lit the dresser and television。 No one spoke。 There were no sounds from the Blue Tide。 The parking lot was virtually empty。
〃I can almost explain why I'm here；〃 Ray finally said； 〃but I'm not sure why you're here。〃
〃We've got to forget why we're here；〃 Mitch said； 〃and concentrate on leaving here。 All together。 All safe。〃
〃Abby's told me everything；〃 Ray said。
〃I don't know everything；〃 she said。 〃I don't know who's chasing us。〃
〃I'm assuming they're all out there；〃 Mitch said。 〃De…Vasher and his gang are nearby。 Pensacola； I would guess。 It's the nearest airport of any size。 Tarrance is somewhere along the coast directing his boys in their all…out search for
Ray McDeere； the rapist。 And his acplice； Abby McDeere。〃
〃What happens next？〃 Abby asked。
〃They'll find the car； if they haven't already done so。 That will pinpoint Panama City Beach。 The paper said the search' extended from Mobile to Miami； so now they're spread out。 When they find the car； they zero in here。 Now； there's a thousand cheap motels just like this one along the Strip。 For twelve miles； nothing but motels； condos and T…shirt shops。 That's a lot of people； a lot of tourists with shorts and sandals； and tomorrow we'll be tourists too； shorts； sandals； the whole bit。 I figure even if they have a hundred men after us； we've got two or three days。〃
〃Once they decide we're here； what happens？〃 she asked。
〃You and Ray could have simply abandoned the car and taken off in another one。 They can't be certain we're on the Strip； but they'll start looking here。 But they're not the Gestapo。 They can't crash a door and search without probable cause。〃
〃DeVasher can；〃 Ray said。
〃Yeah； but there's a million doors around here。 They'll set up roadblocks and watch every store and restaurant。 They'll talk to every hotel clerk； show them Ray's mug shot。 They'll swarm like ants for a few days； and with luck； they'll miss us。〃
〃What are you driving； Mitch？〃 Ray asked。
〃A U…Haul。〃
〃I don't understand why we don't get in the U…Haul； right now； and haul ass。 I mean； the car is sitting a mile down the road； just waiting to be found； and we know they're ing。 I say we haul it。〃
〃Listen； Ray。 They might be setting roadblocks right now。 Trust me。 Did I get you out of prison？ e on。〃
A siren went screaming past on the Strip。 They froze； and listened to it fade away。
〃Okay； gang；〃 Mitch said； 〃we're moving out。 I don't like this place。 The parking lot is empty and too close to the highway。 I've parked the U…Haul three doors down at the elegant Sea Gull's Rest Motel。 I've got two lovely rooms there。 The roaches are much smaller。 We're taking a quiet stroll on the beach。 Then we get to unpack the truck。 Sound exciting？〃
37
JOEY Morolto and his squad of storm troopers landed at the Pensacola airport in a chartered DC…9 before sunrise Friday。 Lazarov waited with two limos and eight rented vans。 He briefed Joey on the past twenty…four hours as the convoy left Pensacola and traveled east on Highway 98。 After an hour of briefing； they arrived at a twelve…floor condo called the Sandpiper； in the middle of the Strip at Destin。 An hour from Panama City Beach。 The penthouse on the top floor had been procured by Lazarov for only four thousand dollars a week。 Off…season rates。 The remainder of the twelfth floor and all of the eleventh had been leased； for the goons。
Mr。 Morolto snapped orders like an agitated drill sergeant。 A mand post was set up in the great room of the penthouse； overlooking the calm emerald water。 Nothing suited him。 He wanted breakfast； and Lazarov sent two vans to a Delchamps supermarket nearby。 He wanted McDeere； and Lazarov asked him to be patient。
By daybreak； the troops had settled into their condos。 They waited。
Three miles away along the beach； and within view of the Sandpiper； F。 Denton Voyles and Wayne Tarrance sat on the balcony of an eighth…floor room at the Sandestin Hilton。 They drank coffee； watched the sun rise gently on the horizon and talked strategy。 The night had not gone well。 The car had not been found。 No sign of Mitch。 With sixty FBI agents and hundreds of locals scouring the coast； they should have at least found the car。 With each passing hour； the McDeeres were farther away。
In a file by a coffee table inside were the warrants。 For Ray McDeere； the warrant read： escape； unlawful flight； robbery and rape。 Abby's sin was merely being an acplice。 The charges for Mitch required more creativity。 Obstruction of justice and a nebulous racketeering charge。 And of course the old standby； mail fraud。 Tarrance was not sure where the mail fraud fit； but he worked for the FBI and had never seen a case that did not include mail fraud。
The warrants were issued and ready and had been fully discussed with dozens of reporters from newspapers and television stations throughout the Southeast。 Trained to maintain a stone face and loathe the press； Tarrance was having a delightful time with the reporters。
Publicity was needed。 Publicity was critical。 The authorities must find the McDeeres before the Mob did。
Rick Acklin ran through the room to the balcony。 〃They've found the car！〃
Tarrance and Voyles jumped to their feet。 〃Where？〃
〃Panama City Beach。 In the parking lot of a high rise。〃
〃Call our men in； every one of them！〃 Voyles yelled。 〃Stop searching everywhere。 I want every agent in Panama City Beach。 We'll turn the place inside out。 Get all the locals you can。 Tell them to set up roadblocks on every highway and gravel road in and out of there。 Dust the car for prints。 What's the town look like？〃
〃Similar to Destin。 A twelve…mile strip along the beach with hotels； motels； condos； the works；〃 Acklin answered。
〃Start our men door to door at the hotels。 Is her posite ready？〃
〃Should be；〃 Acklin said。
〃Get her posite； Mitch's posite； Ray's posite and Ray's mug shot in the hands of every agent and cop。 I want people walking up and down the Strip waving those damn posites。〃
〃Yes； sir。〃
〃How far away is Panama City Beach？〃
〃About fifty minutes due east。〃
〃Get my car。〃
The phone woke Aaron Rimmer in his room at the Perdido Beach Hilton。 It was the investigator with the Baldwin County Sheriff's Department。 They found the car； Mr。 Rimmer； he said； in Panama City Beach。 Just a few minutes ago。 About a mile from the Holiday Inn。 On Highway 98。 Sorry again about the girl； he said。 Hope she's doing better； he said。
Mr。 Rimmer said thanks； and immediately called Lazarov at the Sandpiper。 Ten minutes later； he and his roommate； Tony； and DeVasher and fourteen others were speeding east。 Panama City Beach was three hours away。
In Destin； Lazarov mobilized the storm troopers。 They moved out quickly； piled into the vans and headed east。 The blitzkrieg had begun。
It took only a matter of minutes for the U…Haul to bee a hot item。 The assistant manager of the rental pany in Nashville was a guy named Billy Weaver。 He opened the office early Friday morning； fixed his coffee and scanned the paper。 On the bottom half of the front page； Billy read with interest the story about Ray McDeere and the search along the coast。 And then Abby was mentioned。 Then the escapee's brother； Mitch McDeere； was mentioned。 The name rang a bell。
Billy opened a drawer and flipped through the records of outstanding rentals。 Sure enough； a man named McDeere had