Rescue

against the wall near an interior archway.
    Footsteps, and then Tidyman went by me, wearing old chino pants and a T-shirt, no place for a firearm except in a calf holster of his own.
    I said to his back, “Hold it right there, Sergeant.“
    He stiffened but didn’t tarn around, and his voice was steady. “I suppose I got to assume you’re armed.“
    “You already found one, remember?“
    “Actually, Deputy Sherman found it, and it was locked in your car as I recollect, but I suppose you having another is still a good bet.“
    “The percentage one, anyway.“
    “Your play, then.“
    “Pull up your pant legs, high to the knees.“
    “I’m not carrying.“
    “Humor me.“
    He did. No weapons or even holster marks on the skin.
    I said, “Don’t surprise me with one in the chair cushion or anything, huh?“
    “You can always leave me standing.“
    There was a bare rocking chair in a nonwindowed corner of the room. “Walk to the rocker and have a seat.“
    Tidyman moved easily, but straight to it, no attempt at a detour. He didn’t turn until he was lowering himself into it. “Looks like the percentage bet paid off.“
    “They usually do, which is what makes them—“
    “—the percentage bet. Now what?“
    I watched him. Tidyman was good, very good to be this steady under the circumstances. I began to feel some optimism.
    Lowering the revolver a little, but not much, I said, “I was set up.“
    “Never met a killer yet who wasn’t.“
    “I didn’t kill Dawna Adair.“
    “You expect to convince me of that at the point of a gun?“
    “A captive audience tends to pay better attention.“
    Tidyman crossed his arms, slowly. “Go ahead.“
    “First, I don’t think anybody could have put Adair up there by himself. She was a strong young woman, and the condition of the body says she was alive when they did her.“
    No response.
    “I think that lets Jay off the hook, since he has a bad arm thanks to me, and his friends looked like a brawl was about the peak of their violence curve.“
    Still nothing.
    Second, I decide to kill her, I’m not going to do it that dramatically and obviously in a house you knew I’d stayed in, so my prints would be all over it.“
    Like talking to a statue.
    “Third, they tried to get Dawna to tie me to it, but they botched that part, too.“
    Tidyman finally blinked. “Tie you to it? How?“
    “Before I show you, I need an answer to a question. A straight answer.“
    “Maybe.“
    “Did anybody on your team show unusual interest in anything at the house?“
    Tidyman was blinking rapidly now. “Interest?“
    “Yes.“
    “Well…“ He seemed to look inside himself. “Deputy Billups, he kept trying to bring me back to the kitchen.“
    “And her tote bag, right?“
    Tidyman stiffened. “Boy, you realize that’s the second way you’ve admitted to being at the scene?“
    “I was there, all right. A better question is, how did I know somebody—Billups—wanted you to look in the bag?“
    A shake of the head.
    I reached into my pocket, took out the note. “I don’t think they’d have been stupid enough to handle this without gloves, but you’ll see, it doesn’t affect the thing itself.“
    I crossed to Tidyman, then sailed the note the last four feet to him, backing up as he caught it.
    “Read what it says.“
    He looked down, reading, then stopping himself, going back over it. Then another shake of the head. “Misspelled words here.“
    “Three of them.“
    “And even her own...“
    “That’s right. Spelling bee champion, leaving an important clue to who might hurt her, and she misspells—“
    Tidyman said, “All right, all right. I get your point. But how did you know all this?“
    “Dawna had helped me out with some people to see. Never mind just who. I decided to thank her before driving back to the Lodge. Good thing, too.“
    Tidyman shook his head again, this time like he had a crick in his neck. “I don’t get you.“
    “I tried the bar where Adair worked first. A guy in Pinky’s recognized me from when I handled Jay on Friday. I asked the barkeep about Dawna.“
    “So? You could’ve been trying to set up some kind of alibi.“
    “Could have, but wasn’t. The point is, Charley the barkeep told me she was probably home, so I stopped by there and found her before getting back to the Lodge for my message.“
    “Your message?“
    “Yeah. As I’m crossing the lobby, the clerk—a guy who knows me by sight—spots me, says I got a