Watcher in the Woods (Rockton #4)(21)

The horror on her face makes me sputter a laugh, and she frowns again in confusion.

“Yes, April, I am well aware of our need for a physician. We lost ours last year, and we’ve been pestering for a new one ever since. Right now, though, I need you to stay put.”

I make it halfway to the door before there’s a shout. An angry shout. Then a gunshot.

“Was that—?” April begins.

“Yes, it was. Now stay put.”





EIGHT

I race out the door. There’s a distant commotion, and I have a flash of deja vu, of running out of the station what seems like only minutes ago.

No, it was only minutes ago.

This time, this disturbance is Anders and a couple of others. Dalton’s voice booms from another direction. “What the hell is going on?”

I ran toward Anders, which is also the direction of that shot. I see someone on the ground, and I catch a flash of dark skin, and my heart jams in my throat. It’s not Anders, though, I see that in a second, as I notice dread-locks.

“Sam?” I say as I race over.

He’s getting to his feet.

“Are you okay?” I say.

“No.” He gives an angry shake of his head. “I’m not. I’m a goddamn idiot. That’s what I am. He got away.”

“Garcia?”

“He—” Sam tries to take a step. His leg buckles, and he swears.

“Where’s Will?” I ask.

Sam gestures toward the forest, and I pick up the sound of people running through it.

“I heard a shot,” I say.

“That was Will,” Sam says. “Trying to spook the guy into stopping. It didn’t work and—”

I cut him short. The point is that Garcia hasn’t gotten hold of a gun. He’s just escaped, and he’s running. Which means I don’t need to know how this happened—I just need to bring him back.

I’m taking off when I spot Dalton running toward us.

“Garcia’s gone,” I say. “He bolted. Will’s giving chase.”

“Along with a few of the guys,” Sam says.

“Is your leg hurt?” Dalton cuts in.

“It’s fine. I—”

“It’s hurt, and you can’t run. So get your ass to the station. We’ll talk later.” He turns to me, Sam already dismissed. “I’m going after Garcia. You stay here. Town meeting. Now.”

“Do I get to use my bell?”

He gives a strained smile. “You do.” He leans down for a peck on the cheek and then looks around. “You!”

The only person in his sightline is Mathias, casually walking his wolf-dog cub toward the forest, as if nothing is happening. When Mathias doesn’t turn, Dalton booms, “Atelier! I’m talking to you!”

Mathias looks at us. “Me?”

“Get your ass over here.”

“Raoul needs to relieve him—”

“Do you want to keep that mutt?”

Mathias scoops up the cub and comes over.

“Town meeting,” Dalton says to Mathias. “Go door to door. Tell people to get their asses into the square now.”

I brace for Mathias to make some crack about not being the town crier. He only nods. Before he can leave, another figure comes around the corner, moving fast.

“Sheriff,” Phil calls. “Whatever is going on here, I should have been notified—”

“Yeah, that’s not how your job works. Go with Mathias. He’ll tell you what to do.”

Dalton starts leaving. Phil grabs his arm—the bad one—and Dalton wheels. Mathias pulls Phil away.

“Do you see that look?” Mathias says. “It is not the sheriff’s this - is - negotiable look. Or his I - wish - to - chat - about - it look.” Mathias purses his lips. “To be honest, he does not have either, so it is safest to . . . I believe the English would be: shut up and do as he says.”

Dalton strides off.

“Detective—” Phil begins.

“Here,” Mathias cuts in. “You may hold Raoul as you follow me.”

He extends the cub.

Phil falls back. “That’s the rabid—”

“Not rabid. Not dangerous.” Mathias smiles, showing his teeth. “Not yet.”

Mathias hefts the cub under his arm as he leads Phil away. “Do you know what we wish for most in this town? A council representative with an iota of competence. A mere iota. Is there any possibility we might find that with you, Philip? The early signs are not promising.”

I shake my head and jog off to ring the bell.

*

I hold the press conference. I explain that we found a stranger in the forest and tracked him to his camp, and we’d just initiated a militia search party when the man began approaching people in their homes. I say that he’s claiming to be a U.S. Marshal seeking a fugitive. I leave out the part where he broke into our home, and we questioned him and let him go again. That opens our actions to far too much second-guessing.

The only other option would have been to throw him in jail. Take a supposed officer of the law, treat him as a criminal and hope for a peaceful negotiation.

Yeah, the “throw him in jail” part would have annihilated our chance for a quiet resolution. We had hoped for quiet resolution. Tell us who you came for. Tell us why. Let us figure out what to do about it. If it turned out we were harboring a dangerous criminal, then the answer might have been to let Garcia arrest his target the safety and protection of others.