Page 71 of Death on Gallows Path

“Same here, Sheila. Same here.”

Suddenly shy, I nattered on about Teague enjoying the conference.

Quincy let me wind down, then asked, “You know about him leaving the department here?”

Automatically, I responded to his bluntness. “Because of his eyesight, which helped him realize he didn’t want to keep working for the police chief.”

“Can’t think of anybody who did,” Quincy said cheerfully. “O’Donnell didn’t tell you that chief’s gone?”

“No.” Among other things he hadn’t told me.

“As of a couple months ago. The current chief knew Teague before. Would have him back in a heartbeat.”

Oh.

“But Teague’s made it clear he’s there now.”

Oh.

“Because you’re there. You know that, right?”

Oh.

After not voicing any of my variations on that syllable, I said, “Being able to teach, too, is important to him.”

“Sure it is,” he agreed equably and in a way that made me think he had opinions he wasn’t expressing.

“He told me some about not knowing where his sight would end up, adjusting to the damage,” I said, possibly to reorient the discussion.

“Glad he’s talking about it. Wouldn’t let anybody in his hermit cave when it was going on. We kept knocking on the door, but he kept it closed. Thought sometimes that was the reason he moved down there — to make it harder for people to knock.”

“But he got the credentials to teach up there, took courses . . .”

“Uh-huh. Classes with strangers. Can’t say the guy doesn’t know how to achieve what he wants.”

I was thinking of Teague’s doggedness in teaching, in carpentry, and in getting back into law enforcement in a context that suited him, when Quincy spoke again, with an edit of his own words.

“What he’s persuaded himself he wants.”

That opened a lot of potential directions to head.

I inched closer to one of my core questions. “He did say there was an incident.”

“Yeah.” Talk about a syllable packed with unknown meaning . . . Before I could respond, he said, “I have someone you should meet.”

I accepted his judgment on that without question. I wasn’t as sure about his geography.

We were five to six hours apart, depending on traffic, stops, and strict adherence to speed limits.

“Okay, but . . .”

“Let me check on this end and we can set up a day, since best would be to meet around lunch if you can. Lafayette, Indiana’s about halfway.”

Interesting he knew that off the top of his head. Was I going out on a limb to think he’d met Teague?

Teague never mentioned such a meeting — or meetings. On the other hand, he had no obligation to tell me, especially if there’d been a professional impetus and equally especially earlier in our relationship, much less before we crossed into acknowledging we had a relationship.

“That works.”