Blunt Darts

after you like that?” he asked.
    “I made a comment about his sexual preferences,” I replied.
    Stephen smiled sheepishly again.
    “And yours,” I added.
    Stephen laughed innocently. “I’m still too young to have preferences.”
    “Then why did you shoot him?”
    His smile froze. “Two reasons. One, he was killing you. Two, he helped the judge cover up the death of my mother.”
    “How?”
    Stephen straightened up and walked away. “That’s for me to speak with the judge about.”
    He arrived at the desk. He was packing his knapsack, his back toward me.
    “Why did you run away?”
    “Because I knew the judge would be after me. I found the proof.”
    I decided I’d better not even bend my promise to Kim. “What proof?”
    “The twenty-two. The gun. The judge had hidden it the night my mother was killed. He’d hidden it so well that it took me till now to find it, but I knew I would. And I did.”
    “Then why didn’t you go to the police?“
    “Smollett?” He laughed oddly. “He helped cover up my mother’s death.”
    “Your father killed her?”
    “That’s between us. Between the judge and me.” He continued packing. I got the feeling we might better talk about the judge later.
    “You going on a trip?” I asked.
    “Yes. You, too.”
    “Where?”
    “Back to Meade. To talk with the judge.”
    “Not without the county district attorney and maybe the state attorney general as well.”
    He left what he was doing and came around to squat on his haunches across from me.
    “No, it’ll just be you and me,” he said. “I need you to drive me back. I was stupid to think that the judge wouldn’t send people after me. After I found the gun, the judge must have realized it, he must have checked on it when I wasn’t around. He probably checked it every day because of what it could do to him. He sent Blakey after me, and I panicked and ran. Blakey’s dead, but he’ll always send people after me. If Blakey could trace you here a day after you arrived, then somebody else knows about this place and can come back here after me. And every other place I try to go.” Something jangled. Something wasn’t right, but I still couldn’t pull it together. Then I thought about Blakey talking to the hardware clerk. Blakey had probably called the judge then, before he came out here again. I would have. So the judge would know about the hiding place.
    “Why should I drive you? Because otherwise you’ll shoot me?”
    Stephen got somber again. He stomped over to his knapsack and came stomping back. I held my breath but he tossed the knapsack down in front of me. “No more guns! I buried them! Go ahead and search it!”
    I hefted the knapsack, then pawed through it. No weapons.
    “Then I repeat, why should I drive you anywhere?” He grinned. “Because of three things. One, I dragged Blakey out of here and down the hatch. I rolled him, really, across the floor with a rope around his belt, but I don’t think anybody would believe I had the strength to do it. He hit the ground below us. Then I pushed him until he rolled into some soft weeds downhill. Then I buried him.
    “Two, I took the twenty-two, wiped it off, and then put it in your hand. I squeezed your fingers around it and even fired a shot with your finger around the trigger. Then I buried the gun in a different place than I buried Blakey.
    “Three,” and he smiled broadly at this, “I hiked into town and mailed my grandmother a letter, describing how I saw you do all this.”
    I expect I failed to maintain a poker face. “I don’t believe you.”
    His smile faded. “Then don’t drive me anywhere. I’ll be leaving soon. Eventually I’ll be able to hitch a ride back to Meade. Meanwhile, I’ll take the car keys with me, and I don’t think you can hike out, hurt like you are. That leaves you to wait for the police. If they get here before you die from hunger or thirst.”
    “The police won’t be coming.”
    “Oh, yes, they will,” he replied. “My grandmother will call them when she gets my letter.”
    “You didn’t write any letter.”
    “Yes, I did. But even if I didn’t, I could still be gone and call the police before you could do anything about it. Or not call the police and leave you here to die.”
    I leaned back and faked a grimace to think it over. In his own organized way, Stephen had to be crazy, Dr. Stein to the contrary notwithstanding. Whether he had sent the letter or not, my past run-in with Blakey at the