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They punch out at three-thirty, half an hour before their usual quitting time.

Danny locks up the school for the last time, all seven doors.

Jesse gives Danny a man-hug and Danny returns it along with a couple of slaps on the back.

Danny tells Jesse to take care of himself and stay in touch.

Jesse says for Danny to do the same.

Danny drives to Oak Grove, keeping an eye on the rearview mirror, looking for cops.

He sees none.

When he gets home, he finds a note taped to his door.

It’s short and to the point: Move Out.

We Don’t Want You Here.

He pulls it off the door, tosses it in the kitchen trash, takes a quick shower, and puts on fresh clothes.

Then he calls Ella Davis.

“Danny Coughlin again, Inspector.”

“How can I help you?”

“By trusting me just a little.” Danny tells her what he wants her to do.

She doesn’t say yes… but she doesn’t say no, either.

He sets out for Great Bend and has covered about thirty miles when a KHP cruiser pulls out of a farm road and comes after him, lights flashing.

The trooper gives him a blurp of the siren, totally unnecessary because Danny is already pulling over and powering down his window.

Once it’s open, he puts both hands on top of the steering wheel where they can be seen.

The trooper’s name is H.

Calten.

He comes up to Danny with one hand on his Glock.

The strap has been unsnapped.

“License and registration, please.”

“My license is in my wallet,” Danny says.

“I’m going to reach into my hip pocket and get it.” He does so, moving very slowly.

Once he’s handed his DL to Trooper Calten, he says, “Now I’m going to reach into my glove compartment and take out my registration.”

“Do you have a weapon in the glove compartment?”

“No.”

“In the center console?”

“No.”

“Go ahead.”

Once again in slo-mo, Danny opens the glove compartment and takes out his registration.

“Do you have proof of insurance?”

“Yes.” He starts to reach for the glove compartment again.

“Never mind the insurance card.

Sit still, Mr.

Coughlin.”

Calten goes back to his cruiser and gets on his radio.

Danny sits still.

Five minutes pass.

He is going to be late getting to Great Bend, but that’s all right.

Jalbert doesn’t think he’ll be there at all.

Having verified that the 2011 Tundra he’s pulled over does indeed belong to Daniel Coughlin—a thing Calten already knew, Danny is quite sure—the trooper returns to the driver’s side with Danny’s paperwork.

But he doesn’t hand it over.

“Do you know why I stopped you, Mr.

Coughlin?”

Danny says he doesn’t.

“You were weaving all over the road.”

Danny knows that isn’t true but keeps quiet.

“Have you had anything to drink today, Mr.

Coughlin?”

“If you’re asking about alcohol, the answer is no.”

“How would you feel about a Breathalyzer test? Willing to take one?”

“Yes.”

“How about drugs? Been using any of those? Pot? Ecstasy? Cocaine?”

“No.”

“Would you consent to a search of your truck?”

“Don’t you need a search warrant or something for that?”

“Not if I have observed you driving in a dangerous manner.

You can consent to a search or I can impound your vehicle.”

“Okay,” Danny says, opening the door.

“I have an appointment, so I guess you better search.”

Trooper Calten makes a show of searching the cab, saving the underside of the driver’s seat for last.

He spends a long time looking under there, even getting his flashlight from his cruiser.

Then he slams the door and gives Danny a flat look.

“What about that Breathalyzer?” Danny asks.

“Sir, are you being smart with me?” Danny can’t tell if the cop’s cheeks are flushed or if it’s sunburn.

“No.

But I wasn’t weaving and we both know it.”

“I’m going to write you up for reckless driving, Mr.

Coughlin.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Danny says.

“If you do, I’ll see you in court.

Where my lawyer will ask if you spoke to Inspector Jalbert of the KBI prior to pulling me over.

Then you’ll have to decide whether you want to tell the truth or commit perjury.

Which might or might not come back to bite you in the ass.

Do you want that?”

Calten takes a minute while trying to decide if he wants to push this.

It’s not sunburn; definitely a flush.

Danny thinks it’s nice not to be playing defense for once.

Calten hands him back his license and registration.

“Try to keep on your side of the road from now on, sir.”

Danny almost pushes it a little farther, almost asks if Calten doesn’t at least want to give him a warning, and decides enough is enough.

Calten is armed, and he still hasn’t snapped the strap over the butt of his service weapon.

“I will, Officer.”

“Get out of here.”

Calten follows him for five miles, almost riding Danny’s bumper, then turns off.

The rest of Danny’s trip to Great Bend is without incident.