“So you’re offering to be my backup?”
“Yes. But you don’t trust me, not after I just admitted I know what you have done. I might not have killed these women, but what if I turn my attention on you, decide you deserve to be taken by this man? That makes no sense, though. If I have done what you think I have, then I would not decide your crime warrants slow death in a deep hole.”
I meet his gaze. “And what does my crime deserve?”
“Exactly what you’re doing to repay it. A life in service. Same as William. A life using your skills to protect others.”
“What exactly do you know?”
“Not a thing. I’m merely guessing.”
That’s bullshit. The council must have told him our backstories, as two of those potentially violent offenders he’s supposed to monitor.
He continues. “I will help you catch this imposter and get Nicole back. That is more in keeping with what you believe I’ve done, yes?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, just says, “Go send Diana back. Tell her to enter through the rear and come out the front door and talk to Paul. Keep him occupied.”
SIXTY-EIGHT
I tell Diana that Mathias is taking over. The odds that Diana will be targeted by Benjamin are exponentially higher than the odds Mathias will be. The odds Mathias could escape harm if he is targeted are substantially higher than the odds Diana could. And the odds that I’d feel suffer a lifetime of guilt if Diana got hurt helping me? Much higher than the chances I’d suffer that over Mathias. He understands what he’s getting into.
I’m back in the forest now. I pass Mathias, who’s where I left him. I resume my careful wandering as I call for Storm, my voice low as if I’m trying not to attract the attention of anyone from town. With every few steps, I stop and listen. Once he hears me, he’ll let me hear her. Allow her to whine or make some noise that’ll bring me running.
I hear nothing.
I circle the town, and I’m about two-thirds of the way around, passing the icehouse and the rebuilt lumber shed. I’m thinking I might have been wrong about Benjamin taking Storm. Yes, Diana agreed with my logic. Mathias did too, having figured out the same thing independently. But there’s been no sign that we’re right.
I’ll go as far as the main path. If I bump into militia there, I’ll take my lumps from Dalton. I just need to be sure—
A figure ducks behind a tree. I’m shining my flashlight beam toward town, and there’s someone in the strip between me and Rockton. I stop and hunker down, whispering loudly, “Storm? Is that you?”
It could be a local. Someone who saw my flashlight, came to investigate, and ducked behind that tree because, well, there’s a killer loose. If so, whoever it is should hear me calling for Storm and come out.
He doesn’t come out.
I make a show of looking to the left and right of where he’s hiding, bending and squinting and shining my light. I’m hoping he makes the next move, to save me the decision. The question is whether I pretend I can’t see him and lure him farther from town. That’s what I’d like to do. He’s too close and that worries me, fearing someone will come to my “rescue” and get caught in the middle.
Presumably Benjamin still has my gun. If I turn my back, I take a risk. Possibly a huge one.
Part of my brain tells me to take the risk. The only danger is to myself, and I’m doing it to protect others. That’s my thing, isn’t it? Others’ lives are worth more.
Except …
Maybe it’s Dalton’s brutal-honesty therapy. Maybe it’s Dalton himself. Dalton and Rockton and everything I have here. For the first time in my life, I see a future, and seeing a future means I’m in no big rush to cancel it.
I step toward where the figure hides. “Is someone there? It’s Casey. I’m looking for my puppy, and I’ll warn you that I’ve got a gun and I might have taken a few painkillers, so it’s probably not a good idea to play hide-and-seek. You’re not in any trouble for coming into the forest. Eric isn’t around. Just step out.”
I don’t honestly expect it’s a random resident. I’m trying to put Benjamin at ease. Also letting Mathias—wherever he might be—know I’m approaching a shadowy figure.
You said you’ve got my back, Mathias. You damned well better.
I take two steps. “You shouldn’t be out here. I don’t know if you slept through the commotion, but—”
The figure breaks from hiding … and runs toward town. That gives me pause. It looks like a man. I see jeans and boots and a parka, the standard winter uniform for everyone in town.
I break into a run regardless. I’m calling, “Hold up!” and “You’re not in trouble!” Then he glances over his shoulder. And it’s Benjamin. Looking right at me as he runs.
He wants me to see him. There’s no doubt of that.
So why the hell is he heading into town?
It’s still dark, but it must be nearly eight, and I hear the sounds of the town waking. I smell the smoke of wood fires and hear someone shouting, “Hey, wait up!” to some resident walking to work.
Benjamin’s running into town. Holy shit, he’s running into town. With my gun. While people are sleepily wandering about, heading to work.
I kick it into top gear, gritting my teeth against the old pain in my leg.
I have a clear bead on him. I can make the shot. I have no doubt of that. I can shoot and pray I don’t kill him, but if I do, that’s the chance I have to take. I’m sorry, Nicole. I’m sorry, Storm. I have an armed and desperate man running into a town full of people, and I must weigh the odds. Coldly and calculatedly run those odds, knowing I’m damned to a lifetime of nightmares either way.