J is for Judgement

There was a computer glitch at the Perdido County Jail. Brian Jaffe was released this morning and nobody's seen him since."
    18 I HIT THE road again. I was beginning to think the real definition of Hell was this endless loop between Santa Teresa and Perdido. As I came around the comer into Dana Jaffe's neighborhood, I spotted a Perdido County Sheriff's Department car parked in front of her house. I parked across the street and down a few houses, watching the front porch for signs of life. I'd probably been sitting there for ten minutes or so when I caught sight of Dana's neighbor, Jerry Irwin, returning from his afternoon jog. He ran on the balls of his feet, almost on tippy-toe, with the same stooped posture he favored in his leisure moments. He was wearing plaid Bermuda .shorts and a white T-shirt, black socks, and running shoes. His color was high and his gray hair was matted with sweat, his glasses secured with a length of rubber tubing that made a circular indentation. He finished the last half a block with a little burst of speed, his gait the mincing, irregular hopping of someone running barefoot over hot concrete. I leaned over and rolled down theie window on the passenger side.
    "Hey, Jerry? How're you? Kinsey Millhone here."
    He leaned forward, gasping, hands on his skinny knees while he caught his breath. A whiff of sweat-wafted through the window. "Fine." Huff, puff. "Just a minute here." He was never going to look like an athlete doing this. He seemed like a man on the brink of a near death experience. He put his hands on his waist and leaned back, saying, "Whoool" He was still breathing hard, but he managed to collect himself. He peered in at me, face wrinkling with the effort. His glasses were beginning to fog up. "I was going to call you. Thought I saw Wendell hanging around earlier."
    "Really," I said.
    "Why don't you hop in?" I leaned over and popped up the lock, and he opened the car door, sliding onto the seat.
    "'Course I can't be sure, but it sure looked like him, so I called the cops. Deputy's over there now. Did you I see that?"
    I checked Dana's porch, which was still deserted. "so I see. You heard about Brian?"
    "Kid must lead a charmed life," Jerry remarked, "You think he's headed for home?"
    "Hard to say. It'd be foolish. . . that's the first place the cops are going to check," I said. "But he may not have any other choice in the matter."
    "I can't believe his mother would tolerate that."
    We both peered at Dana's, hoping for activity. Guns going off, vases flying through the window. There was nothing. Dead silence, the facade of the dark gray house looking cold and blank. "I drove down to see her, but I thought I better wait until the deputy leaves. When did you see Wendell? Was it just recently?"
    "Might have been an hour ago. Lena was the one who spotted him. She called me in quick and had me take a look. We couldn't quite agree if it was him or not, but I thought it was worthwhile to report. I didn't really think they'd send somebody out."
    "They might have dispatched a deputy after Brian came up missing. I didn't hear the newscast myself. Did you happen to catch it?"
    Jerry shook his head, pausing to wipe his sweaty forehead on his T-shirt. The car was beginning to smell like a locker room. "Might be why Wendell came back," he said.
    "That occurred to me, too." Jerry gave a little sniff to his armpit and had the decency to wince. "I better head for the shower before I stink up your car. You let me know if they catch him."
    "Sure. I'll probably cruise by Michael's house just to make the rounds. I'm assuming the cops will advise him about aiding and abetting."
    "For all the good it'll do." I left the car windows down after Jerry got out. Another ten minutes passed and the sheriff's deputy emerged from Dana's. She followed him out, and the two of them stood on the front porch, conversing. The deputy was staring out at the street. Even at a distance, his expression seemed stony. Dana looked trim and long-legged in a short denim skirt, a navy T-shirt, and flats, her hair pulled back with a bright red scarf. The deputy's stance suggested the effect wasn't lost on him. They seemed to be winding up their conversation, body language cautious and just a shade antagonistic. Her telephone must have rung because I saw her give a quick look in that direction. He gave her a nod and moved down the steps while she banged through the screen door and into the house.
    As soon as he'd pulled away from the