But Glock caught the open-ended nature of my statement. “You said ‘at least’ one more target. Do you have someone else in mind?”

Rising, I go to the door and close it. Their eyes follow me as I go back to my desk and sit. “Norm Johnston was involved with this group and had previous knowledge of the crimes.”

T.J. gapes at me. “Councilman Johnston?”

I tell them about my conversation with Johnston. “He had previous knowledge … to a degree. I sent everything I have over to the prosecutor, and this is something he’s going to have to look at. I don’t know if he’ll bring charges.”

“Even if he didn’t know at the time,” Glock says, “he found out shortly after. He could have come forward then.”

“It’s tricky.” I tell them about the beating Johnston endured. “There was intimidation involved. He was a minor at the time. Still, under Ohio code, that could mean a complicity charge.”

T.J. shrugs. “Hard to believe he kept his mouth shut all these years.”

I look from man to man. “In any case, Johnston could also be in danger from this woman.” I turn my attention to T.J. “I want you to keep an eye on Norm Johnston’s place tonight. Park out of sight. Keep it unobtrusive. Keep your cell and radio handy. Wear your vest at all times.”

“You got it.”

“Glock and I are going to take Blue back to his place and camp out there. Keep Blue visible and see if she bites.”

“Might get kind of dicey if she takes a shot at him through the window,” T.J. says.

No one has anything to say about that.

*   *   *

Glock and I find Blue lying on his cot with his back to the cell door.

“Rise and shine,” Glock calls out as he approaches the cell.

The preacher rolls to a sitting position, a crease from the pillow marring the left side of his face.

“Do not move.” Glock unlocks the cell door and steps into the cell. “Relax and keep your hands where we can see them. All right?”

“No problem,” Blue replies.

I step into the cell, the ankle monitor in my hand. “Roll up your pants on your left leg,” I tell Blue.

Never taking his eyes from mine, he leans forward and rolls up the hem of his slacks. A meaty white calf the circumference of a telephone pole comes into view. When the hem is rolled up to just below his knee, I cross to him and kneel. “I’m placing a GPS monitoring device on your person,” I tell him.

“I see that.” Blue watches me place the monitor around his ankle. “Aren’t those things for house arrest?” he asks.

“Sure. House arrest,” Glock says from his place at the cell door. “Only you’re going to have two armed babysitters. So keep your shit cool. You got that?”

“I got it. Where are we going?”

“Your place.” I roll down the pants leg. “We believe Wanetta Hochstetler’s daughter is going to attempt to murder you.”

“Her daughter?” Incredulity rings in his voice.

“Maybe she’s your daughter, Blue.”

He stares at me, blinking. His mouth forms words, but no sound emerges from his throat, and I feel a small, cruel sense of satisfaction.

“This is your chance to redeem yourself.” I move away from him and stand. “You interested?”

“I’m interested.” Regaining his composure, he bends to roll down his pants and then gets to his feet. “Whatever you think of me, I’ll help anyway I can.”

“That’s big of you,” I say.

Glock hands me the black Kevlar vest and I pass it to Blue. “I think you know what this is,” I tell him. “Put it on. Under your shirt.”

He stares at me as he unbuttons his shirt and takes it off. I keep my eyes on his as the pasty skin and sagging flesh of his chest come into view. “How do you know she has a daughter?” he asks.

“I went to Pennsylvania,” I tell him.

Setting his shirt on the bunk, he shoves his arms through the openings of the vest. “Are they together?” he asks. “Wanetta Hochstetler and her … daughter?”

Instead of answering, I glance over at Glock, who steps forward and tugs the vest closed and smoothes down the Velcro closures.

“So we go to my place and wait for them to show?” Blue asks as he buttons his shirt.

“That’s about the size of it.” I hand him the keys to his truck. “You’re driving. Officer Maddox is riding shotgun. And I do mean shotgun, so don’t do anything stupid.”

“I think I’ve used up my quota of stupid,” he says.

“You’re not going to get an argument from us on that,” Glock tells him.

*   *   *

I don’t like the idea of Blue getting behind the wheel any more than I like the idea of using him as bait. But despite the heinous nature of his past crimes, I don’t believe he has any intention of harming anyone or running. The one thing I do know is that if the sting is going to be successful, Ruth Weaver must believe Blue is alone and free of police surveillance.

We’re at the police station, standing outside the interview room. “Here’s how it’s going to go down,” I tell Blue. “Once you reach your house, you’ll pull into the garage and park just like you always do. Once the garage door is closed, you and Officer Maddox will go inside. Did you leave any lights on?”

“Nope. Never do.”

“Are there any curtains open?”

“Kitchen, I think. There’s a window above the sink, and I got a bird feeder out there.”

“Since those curtains are open, do not turn on any lights until Officer Maddox takes his position in the hallway outside the bedrooms. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“I want Officer Maddox’s eyes on you at all times, Blue. If you screw that up, the deal is off and we take you back to jail and I’ll lobby heavily when it comes time for the prosecutor to file charges. Do you understand?”

“I got it.”

“Once Officer Maddox is in position, I want you to turn on all the lights. I want you to open the drapes or blinds. Make yourself visible from outside. If there’s a TV in your living room, I want it on and I want you on the sofa, visible through the front window.”

He nods.

“What’s behind the house?” I ask Blue.

“Woods.”

“Lots of places to hide back there,” Glock puts in.

“Do you have a back patio?” I ask Blue.

He nods.

“We believe Jerrold McCullough was accosted on his back patio. We found pieces of a broken mug that had been swept over the side. If you want to move around, you can go out onto the patio, as if you’re enjoying the fresh air.”

At his nod, I address Glock, “I’ll be parked next door at Brewer’s Salvage Yard. I’ll have my cell and the radio. And a pretty good view of Blue’s house and front yard, but I can’t see the back from there.”

Blue speaks up. “You can see the backyard from the master bedroom.” He looks at Glock. “I can show you if you want.”

Glock frowns at him. “I’ll figure it out. You just do as you’re told.”

“Give me a few minutes to get into position at the salvage yard,” I tell Glock. “There are a couple of places I can park and not be seen from the street or Blue’s place.”

“You got it, Chief.” He gives me a let’s-do-this nod. “Watch your back.”

“You, too.”

*   *   *

Twenty minutes later, I’m in the Explorer with the vehicle wedged between a corrugated fence and the forklift used to move scrap metal. A foot-wide section of fence is missing, which gives me a decent view of Branson’s house and front yard. I’ve been there only a few minutes when I see the flash of headlights and then Blue’s Mustang barrels down the lane. The twin headlight beams play over the facade of the house. The security light blinks on and the garage door rolls up. I try, but even with the vehicle illuminated by the garage light, I can’t see Glock. So far, so good.

A moment later, the garage door rolls down. Another minute, and a light appears in the front window. My cell vibrates against my hip, and Glock’s name pops up on the display. “The eagle has landed,” he says.

“Roger that. I’m in place. How’s the view?”