Free All Chickens Must Die: A Benjamin Wade Mystery by Scott Dennis Parker

that’s not all,” Peete continued. “The only true reason he’s
ordering the slaughter is obvious: he hopes to find the real diamond. Now, what
he plans to do with it is anyone’s guess, but if he’s passed off the fake to
you, he might just try and scoot out of town with the real one.”
    “Peete,” Kruger said, “I think you know what needs to be done.”
    Various images filled my imagination in the pregnant silence that
followed. It was in that silence that I heard the soft sound of shoes on grass.
     

Chapter Thirteen
     
    I whirled my head around and saw the legs
of a man moving slowly to my position from the rear of the house. Had he seen
me or was he just making a security sweep? When the legs slowed even more and
his pants indicated the man was kneeling down, I knew my answer.
    I bolted upright from my hiding place in the bushes and ran.
Unfortunately, the direction best for me to escape was away from my car. The
pace of the footsteps trailing me told me I’d never have a chance to get in my
car and start it even if I were going in that direction. The only thing that
mattered now was speed.
    Gathering momentum, I put shoe leather on the pavement and
sprinted away. I heard the footsteps of the man closing in on me, so near I
could hear his breathing. It was getting ragged so I poured on my speed.
Grinning, I heard him falling away.
    But then I heard the sound of an automobile starting up. Then
two. I slowed long enough to give a glance over my shoulder. The man who had
given chase stood in the middle of the street, his hands on his knees,
breathing hard. From behind him, two cars, their headlights knifing through the
night, raced up the street.
    That was enough for me.
    I immediately cut into the nearest yard, my progress shadowed by
tall oak trees. I hoofed it past the house and the car parked in the driveway
and vaulted the chain-link fence. Naturally, there was a dog there. His howls
pierced the stillness, giving my pursuers a clear idea of my location.
    There wasn’t anything I could do about the dog, but my hopes of
leaving him behind were dashed when other hounds took up the call. It was
almost as if they were working against me.
    I jumped over another chain-link fence and found myself on the
next street over. With the dogs baying, the homeowners now started to stir and
look out windows. If I wasn’t careful, I’d have a whole street full of
witnesses who could nail me with a jury. “Yeah, I saw a strange man, Officer.
He ran right through my gardenias.”
    My only consolation was that the cars still had to go half a
block to get to an intersection before they could reach me. Said consolation
was dashed when I heard the sounds of men on foot making their way through the
yards I had just crossed.
    “Damn.” I let my mind race for any advantage. The only thing I
had was distance and my own unpredictability.
    I realized that my flight was now taking me back in the direction
of my car, albeit on the parallel street. I had no way of knowing which house
on this street corresponded to the house in front of which I had parked my car.
I had just settled on picking any house when, through the trees, I saw the rear
second story of the house Holcombe had entered. Aha! I wondered if they’d think
I’d double back.
    Not wanting to take too many chances, I got off the sidewalk and
kept running on the grass. The grass dampened my footfalls, but a pursuer with
keen ears would hear my steps on the driveways when I passed them.
    No matter now. I counted five houses more and turned. It was
close enough. Stealthily, I slowed and crept past the windows of the house. Not
wanting to alert my pursuers to my climbing the fence, I opened the gate and
prayed for a cat. Or, at least, no dog.
    Thankfully, there wasn’t a dog. There was only a woman enjoying a
cigarette. She took one look at me, her eyes bulging from her head. I held a
finger to my mouth hoping there might be a shred of discretion in her soul.
    Her piercing