The Archimedes Effect

Partin’s Country Store

Near Damascus, Maryland

Lewis had picked the little country store because it had recently closed. She had happened across the place while out driving one day, feeling too cooped up after a long VR session and needing to move. The store was for sale, and there was a sign up over the front window saying so. Who owned it? Why had they shut it down? Where were they now? Those things didn’t really matter.

The place was not exactly the middle of nowhere—the sun didn’t come up between it and town—but it was an hour and some away from the District, half a mile from any other building, and the closest of those was a farmhouse off the road and mostly screened by trees. If she could get in and out fast, there wouldn’t be a problem. She rented a car, switched license plates with a vehicle parked in the back of an apartment complex that was the same make and model, and wore her standard disguise—baseball cap with her hair tucked under, sunglasses, dark T-shirt, jeans, running shoes, and a Windbreaker. Plus she had a new revolver, another S&W Chief .38 Special.

She didn’t want to be parked out in the boondocks long enough for anybody driving past to take notice. Her intent was to arrive five minutes before the meeting time, pull in, and wait for Carruth. As soon as he showed up, she would put two into his head before he could get out of the car. She hoped he had that big handgun with him, but if not, she would make sure there was something in the car to lead the state troopers who worked the case to his house. He’d rented that under a phony name, and she didn’t know if his driver’s license matched the address or not, but a wadded-up piece of paper with the street number and name on it dropped onto the floor would be enough, and they’d find it. They tended to search the cars of murdered folks very carefully. If Carruth still had the cop-killing gun, it would be on his hip, in the car, or stashed at his home somewhere.

She was tempted to run past his house and make sure there wasn’t anything she didn’t want the cops to find, but she didn’t think there would be. Carruth was pretty good about stuff like that.

Well, that’s what you thought about him before you found out about the two cops and that goddamned gun. . . .

So she drove slowly and carefully, and got to Partin’s Country Market four minutes before the appointed time. The sun was shining and it was cool, maybe forty degrees or so. Bracing . . .

Carruth arrived three minutes later.

She had been breathing slowly and deeply, but even so, her belly was roiling and her heart pumping faster than normal. It wasn’t every day you cold-bloodedly shot somebody to death. That thing in New Orleans hadn’t been planned, it had just happened, and yeah, she had been prepared, but she had not really expected, nor wanted, it to go down that way.

This was different. She was gonna smile at Carruth, a guy she had worked with for months, and knew, and then punch holes in his skull, bam-bam. Yeah, it had to be done, but still, it made for a dry mouth and fluttery bowels. She took a deep breath. Get to it, sister.

As she stepped out of her rented car, she looked up to see a state police patrol cruiser coming along the country road. And slowing down.

She went cold, but let none of her reactions show.

Unless she was willing to kill a state cop, Carruth was going to live to see another day.

She considered it.

Carruth was armed and he was good with a gun. She didn’t know how good the trooper might be. If she pulled her piece and blasted Carruth, the cop might be a danger before she could do him. Carruth certainly would be if she shot the cop first, though he would hesitate, trying to figure what she was doing, and she could nail him while he was trying to work it out. . . .

No. She didn’t need any complications—somebody might spot the dead police officer before she was out of range, and they would certainly throw up roadblocks every which way. Maybe he had already called in their license plates. Dead police officers were a major glitch, to be avoided if at all possible. She could screw up Jay Gridley’s search for a little while longer, and take care of Carruth later.

“Follow my lead,” she said to Carruth as the trooper pulled into the lot. “We’re thinking about buying this place,” she said.

The gravel crunched under the trooper’s tires. The cop eased closer and rolled his window down. “You folks okay?”

Carruth stepped of his car with a notepad. He looked at the for-sale sign and began writing on the pad. He smiled at the trooper and raised a hand in greeting.

“Yes, sir,” Lewis said. “My friend and I came out to look at the store. We heard it was for sale.”

“You live around here?”

“No, in the District. But we’re tired of the city,” she said. “And we’re thinking maybe about getting married and starting a business away from all the noise and traffic.”

The cop, who was maybe twenty-five, smiled. “Really nice country.”

“It is. We figured we’d get the Realtor’s number and see if we can set up a meeting.”

She smiled at the trooper, who grinned back. “Shame you had to come in two cars.”

Cops never just took anything at face value, the good ones. She leaned down closer to the cop. “My friend and I, we’re, uh, married to . . . other people right now. We’re going to, uh, take care of that, but we kind of don’t want to be seen together just yet.”

“Ah. I understand.”

She nodded. Give them a story they like, they’ll buy it.

“Well, you all have a nice day.”

Carruth turned and ambled over to where Lewis stood. He put his arm around her and smiled at the trooper. Pressed the tips of his fingers against her breast so the cop could see that.

The trooper pulled out of the lot and drove slowly away.

“Bet he turns into a driveway a mile down the road and waits to see what we are going to do,” Carruth said.

“If you don’t get your hand off my boob, he’s going to see me kick you in the balls.”

Carruth laughed. He moved his hand away. “I had to help sell it, didn’t I?”

“We need to leave,” she said.

“Why? We can talk for a couple minutes, walk around the place. Even if the cop can see us, it’s not like we’re trying to break into the place. We can hold hands, make out, give him something to tell the boys back at the station.” He grinned.

“Forget it.”

She hadn’t planned on having to lay out another base incursion, since she’d expected he’d be dead by now. She didn’t have anything to tell him. A mistake. “No, we’ll do it later. I’ll call and set it up.”

“Why’d you want to meet way the hell out here anyway?”

“I wanted a quiet drive in the country. What do you care?”

He shrugged. “I don’t. My last trip to the country involved shooting down a helicopter full of armed dweebos—not a real peaceful memory.”

“Go. I’ll call.”

He shrugged again and ambled to his car.

Well—damn. This certainly hadn’t gone the way she’d visualized it. A reminder that RW was messier than VR. She needed to keep that in mind. If that trooper had chosen to play it differently, maybe been in a bad mood and needing to feel powerful, if he’d wanted to see ID, maybe decided he needed to pat them down, it would have really been a bad scene. She supposed she ought to consider herself lucky it hadn’t gone that way. Carruth killing cops was why they were here—they didn’t need another dead one calling attention their way.

She climbed back into her car and started the engine.

As she did, she had a sudden inspiration. A way to get rid of Carruth without doing it herself. She smiled. It was perfect. She should have thought of it before.

Better late than never.