Gotcha.Julia tucked the water bottles under her arm, took herphone from her pocket, and snapped a picture of the license plate. She left the staging area, passed the restrooms, and headed to the spectators’ side.
She picked up the pace, excited. She had a phoneful of incriminating evidence. She wasthisclose to figuring out who killed Kay, and why.
But she wasn’t leaving the reenactment.
She had a better idea.
48
The afternoon wore on, and Julia rejoined Herman for the rest of the reenactment, keeping the binoculars on the staging area. She lost track of Glushenko and Novak, but the black pickup hadn’t moved.
The reenactment ended, and Julia still didn’t see Glushenko or Novak. The black pickup remained parked. The spectators around her folded their chairs, picked up their blankets, and gathered their children to leave. She expected Glushenko, Novak, and any legit reenactors would take longer to leave, and she would wait in the parking lot to avoid suspicion. Her plan was to follow the black pickup. She could only hope that Novak was inside.
Julia helped Herman to the parking lot, then bade him a quick goodbye and went to her car. The exit road went past the parking lot, so she would bide her time. They wouldn’t suspect she was following them because they didn’t know her car. They used Courtney’s car for their sleuthing.
Julia called Paul, but his voicemail came on, so she left a message: “Paul, I’m at the reenactment, and I saw Glushenko andNovak, plus the black pickup. I’m going to follow it and I’ll keep you posted. I’m texting you the license plate. Bye.” Julia hung up, then texted him the photo of the license plate.
The parking lot was emptying onto the main road. She spotted trucks that she’d seen in the staging area on the road, which told her that the reenactors were leaving, too.
She checked her phone. 7:15 p.m. Her battery was at twenty-two percent. She didn’t have her charger. She put it on low power mode.
Suddenly the black pickup appeared on the main road, and Julia spotted the flag on its back window. So she knew it was the pickup that had followed them last night, but she couldn’t be sure that it was the pickup used by Kay’s killer. Still she was working on a hunch. She started her engine, left the parking lot, and joined the traffic. It was go time.
Julia kept an eye on the pickup two blocks ahead and remembered that the militia was partying at Blaine’s Bar. She checked Google Maps for the place, and it was three miles up ahead.
She kept going, following the pickup from a safe distance and passing a few houses, then spotting a lighted sign that readBLAINE’S. The pickup turned into the lot, and she breathed a relieved sigh. So Novak and the others were going to party. She followed, hoping to tail them when they emerged.
She watched the pickup park and could see men getting out, but it was too far away to see any details. She scanned the parking lot as she pulled in, and it was packed. She spotted a space near the dumpster and headed that way, realizing it would give her a good view of Novak and the others when they left.
She reversed into the space and cut the ignition, slinking down in the seat. She had no idea how long Novak and the others would stay, but she was here for the duration. Twilight fell, washing the sky with indigo fringed with gold from the last of the sun.
Julia watched darkness come on, and the noise inside the bar got louder, mostly music and laughter. Paul hadn’t called back, and her battery was down to fifteen percent, so she didn’t call him again.
She waited in the car, watching people flowing in and out of the bar. One hour passed, then two. She stayed alert, still energized. The light over the bar’s entrance was bright, so she should see Novak and whoever was with him when they left. These would be even better pictures than before. She could barely wait.
Hours passed, and soon it was past midnight. The black pickup was still in its parking spot and most of the other cars stayed, too. The laughter and music stayed loud until almost two in the morning, when things finally began to wind down. Groups left the bar, couples with their arms around each other, and there was more than one drunken regimental soldier.
Julia shifted up in the seat and kept an eye out for Novak. In the next moment, her patience paid off. A man with brownish hair left the bar with three other men, visible in the light cast by the fixture. It was Novak.
She grabbed her phone and took a photograph of him and the others. Her battery ticked down to eight percent.
Excitement surged through her. She watched as Novak got into the driver’s seat and the others piled into the pickup, then Novak left the space and turned right down the main road.
Julia took off.
49
Julia followed the black pickup as it left Buckley, taking Route 42 South. It was pitch black, and she couldn’t see anything except what was in the path of her highbeams. Insects buzzed in crazy patterns in jittery cones of light.
They drove until they turned onto Route 61, continuing south. In time they turned onto Route 901, then 183, going farther south. The area was wooded and rural, with modest houses clustered around small towns.
Julia checked the clock. 4:30 a.m. They were continuing southeast, but she didn’t know why. Maybe Novak lived this far from Buckley. Her battery was four percent. She prayed it would last.
She followed the pickup onto a highway and passed signs for state game lands. The terrain was a patchwork of farms, silos, horses, cows, and woods. They were heading far enough south that she began to wonder if they were going directly to Valley Forge.
Suddenly the pickup took an off-ramp onto a single-lane road andeventually wound its way through thickening woods. The asphalt became rutted with potholes, and the other traffic disappeared.
Julia checked her car’s GPS screen. She was in the middle of the woods, cut through with private roads. She spotted a black mailbox and realized that the roads led to houses that she couldn’t see.
