I waited until we were off the hill and nearly in town before pursuing my thoughts. “Is Sleeveless on the list?”

It took a moment for my question to register, perhaps because we hadn’t spoken since she mentioned the list. “Oh, Appleton. I doubt it. Jackie gave me the list of people she had invited to the signing. The author kept the guest register. But isn’t that better? I mean some people never sign those registers. I know I don’t. Well, maybe at a funeral service, but for the most part, I just ignore them. Like those guest registers at all the welcome stations you see across the country. You know when you cross a state line. It’s really none of their damn business where I’m from or where I’m going. You ask me, it’s just another way for Big Brother to keep track of us.”

Now I knew she had been drinking. She tended to babble on about nothing when she got together with Jack Daniels. I would have to find a way to get her keys on the ride back. “You’re forgetting about the flyers and the ad in the paper, Bon. Remember how upset Craig was when he claimed the paper said Wilson was supposed to tell where to find hidden treasure, and he demanded that Wilson get to the point? I’ll bet Fred’s next meal that’s how Sleeveless found out about the event. Something tells me he wouldn’t be on any book-club reading list.”

“Well, you can check for yourself. Its right here somewhere,” she said, taking her eyes off the road to rummage through her purse.

I grabbed the wheel just in time to save a head-on when she drifted into the oncoming lane. I would have had her pull over then and there to let me drive, but we were already at the auto parts store. Bonnie would have made NASCAR proud; she did the twenty-minute drive in just under ten minutes.

The argument over me driving home never happened. Bonnie had stayed in the car with Fred, and I found her in the passenger seat after leaving the auto-parts store. A State Patrol car, that wasn’t there when we pulled in, was parked next to us with no one in it.

“Maybe you better drive, Jake,” she said when she saw me. I later found out that she had nearly wet her pants until she saw the cop go into a nearby coffee shop.

***

The sun had gone down behind Mount Evans creating an eerie, red glow by the time the three of us made it back to Bonnie’s. Fred and I left after making sure she got into her house safely, and then we hurried up the trail to our cabin before it was too dark to see. I couldn’t wait to start checking on the list Bonnie gave me. It was the best lead I had to get a name and address for Sleeveless.

After feeding Fred and throwing a frozen pizza in the microwave oven for myself, I sat down to begin my search. I started by eliminating feminine names. Not because I’m a chauvinist like my ex called me, but because a guy with biceps that would put Hercules to shame probably didn’t have a girl’s name. There was the possibility he had a name like Robin, but I didn’t see any of those on the list. There were at least ten pages of results for every name I had chosen from Bonnie’s list. By the time I finished, I knew less than when I started.

***

Fred woke me somewhere around two or three in the morning. I had fallen asleep at the kitchen table while clicking through promising links during my search. He was pacing back and forth at the front door. I had forgotten to let him out to do his thing, and he couldn’t hold it any longer. “Maybe I should trade you in for a cat. I hear they can be trained to use a toilet; some even know how to flush it when they’re done.”

He stopped pacing, laid down by the door with his head on his paws, and stared at me with the saddest brown eyes.

“You know I was just kidding, Freddie,” I said, patting him on the head while opening the door. There was enough light from the waxing moon for me to watch him from the porch. I told myself I was checking for any nocturnal critters, but the truth is I was a little paranoid about someone lurking outside my cabin. There’s something about having a home burglary that makes a person extra cautious. Fred must have been scared too. He finished his business and came back to the cabin in record time, but not before it dawned on me how to find Sleeveless.

CHAPTER FOUR

I had been searching all the wrong places. If Sleeveless was truly the crook I suspected, he undoubtedly had a record. I didn’t have access to any criminal databases, but I remembered reading an article awhile back about some websites that published pictures of known felons and sex offenders, and in the case of sex offenders they even pinned their location on a map. The author of the article was trying to get these websites shutdown because she thought it was an invasion of their civil liberties.

After fifteen minutes of my renewed search, I found a rogues' gallery hosted by the Denver Post. Two hours later, I had a name and last known address for Sleeveless.

Thankfully, sleep came quickly once I lay down again. I was too tired to work out the details or devise a plan on what I should do next, but my subconscious wasn’t. When I woke the next morning, I knew exactly what to do.

***

Once I heard the morning news blasting on Bonnie’s television, Fred and I went down for coffee and to tell her I’d found Sleeveless, or as I knew him now, John Appleton of Pine Junction. I needed to borrow her Cherokee because my Jeep was still out of commission. The fuel pump I’d bought the day before could wait until I got Julie’s ring and book back. The thought of breaking into his house to retrieve my property would have never crossed my conscious mind, but the subconscious didn’t have the same principles and it couldn’t wait until I fixed my Jeep.

“I’m going with you, Jake. You can drive if you want, but no way am I going to stay here while you go after the creep,” Bonnie said after I told her why I wanted to borrow her Cherokee.

I wished I hadn’t told her about Appleton. My subconscious didn’t tell me she would want to come along. “Are you crazy, Bon? This guy is dangerous. He was arrested last year for armed robbery.”

She walked over to the key-rack she kept next to her front door and removed her car keys. “It’s my car and I go where it goes,” she said, clutching them in her hand.

I felt like I was six again, arguing with my sister. “Bonnie, listen to me. I’m only asking to borrow your Cherokee because I don’t have time to fix my Jeep right now. I need to make sure it’s him before he goes to work, or whatever he does for a living.” I failed to mention the part about breaking into his house.

“That’s stupid, Jake. You just said how dangerous he is. Do you want him to shoot you with that gun he stole from you?”

“I’m not going to confront him. I’ll park your Cherokee where it can’t be seen from his house and walk back and hide behind a tree or something. Once I see it’s him, I’ll call the sheriff.”

Her fingers relaxed their grip on the keys, but just when I thought she was going to hand them over, she reached for her purse and coat. “All the more reason why I’m going with you guys. You know your phone won’t work over there. I promise I won’t do anything stupid. I’ll stay in the car with Fred and wait for you. I can be your backup and call 911 if something goes wrong.”

“Great. A dog that can’t catch squirrels and a sixty-nine-year-old granny covering my back. I’ll be lucky to live long enough to see my own grandchildren.” The words no sooner left my lips when I realized I’d said the wrong thing.

Bonnie’s eyes dimmed, and she turned away. I’d forgotten how many times she had cried after a few too many drinks over the lost hope of grandkids. “I’m sorry, Bon. I suppose it won’t hurt if you come along. You can even help by keeping my mutt quiet while I play hide and seek.”