We talk suspects. I expect Jacob to balk at us naming his friend as our lead suspect, but it seems “friend” is an exaggeration. Jacob knows Roger. He’s hunted with him, traded with him, even hung out with him, yet that only means he’s someone Jacob trusted.
“Shit,” he says when Dalton tells him what Cypher and Brent told us about Roger. He’s crouched in the snow, petting Storm. “He’s asked me about Rockton, too. I should have mentioned that, I guess, but it was way back, and I never thought much of it.”
“What exactly did he ask?” I say.
“Just the usual gossip-fishing expedition.” He pushes loose hair behind his ear. “He acted like he knew about the town. Which he would, if his family came from there, but he never said that, so I figured it was just what people do sometimes. They act like they know all about a thing so you’ll think you’re not giving away any secrets. Like Cypher a few months back—he tried talking me up about a fishing spot of mine, said he’d been there before but forgot where it was, maybe I could take him next time I went, refresh his memory.” Jacob snorts. “Like I’d fall for that.”
“Nothing specific with Roger, then?”
“No. I blocked, and he dropped the subject, never returned to it.”
“Next topic of conversation,” Dalton says. “Hostiles.”
Jacob tenses, and I go to cut in, but Dalton continues, “You told Casey hostiles aren’t capable of these abductions. That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
Jacob nods. “I do, and I was going to mention that before you left. Explain. Can I talk to Casey? Alone?”
Dalton’s face screws up. “What?”
Jacob speaks slower. “I would like to speak to Casey alone. I want to explain and apologize.”
“And I can’t be here for that?”
There’s confusion in Dalton’s voice, but a touch of hurt, too. I look at him and mouth, Please.
“If you’re worried I’ll hurt her again, I’m fine,” Jacob says.
“I’m not—”
“She has her gun, but I understand if you’re concerned—”
“No, course not.” Dalton rises from the log. “I just don’t see why—”
My look stops him.
“Fine,” he says. “At least you’re talking to her. Should be glad about that.”
“Stop grumbling,” I say. “Go study tree growth or something.”
He rolls his eyes and stalks off. When he looks over his shoulder, I call, “Keep going,” and I get another eye roll, but he continues until he’s out of sight.
I shake my head and turn back to Jacob. “He’s not worried about you hurting me. He just doesn’t like being excluded.”
“I know. I just said that to make him stop arguing.” He looks in the direction Dalton went, being sure he’s gone. Then he says, “Yes, I lied about the hostiles. I just … I panicked. I know how Eric feels about you, and he’s not going to want you anywhere near them. I don’t want you anywhere near them either. After you left, I realized how stupid that was. What if it is a hostile, and he takes someone else because you don’t expect it? Or comes back for Nicole?” He pauses. “How is she?”
“Resting mostly. The other day took a lot from her. She’s still asking when she can come back, though. Take the bear cub for a walk.”
He chuckles at that. “I’m still not sure they didn’t sell Eric some kind of bear-dog cross. But it seems tame enough.” He sobers. “You asked if a hostile could do this. Like Eric says, the answer is yes. I can’t give you much on them, though.”
“You stay away from them, like everyone out here.”
He shoves his hands into his pockets. “Even more than most. If I think I hear one coming, I take off. I know that makes me sound like a coward…” Another glance in the direction Dalton went.
“Eric would think it made you smart.”
His expression says he’s not listening. Or he hears, but it doesn’t make him feel better. He turns back to me. “You need to know if hostiles could do this. If they could take a woman captive and…” He inhales. “I know what this guy would have done to Nicole. I know … I know it happens. Even out here. Maybe especially out here. Not that I know what happens down south or … What I’m saying is that it does happen. And I … know that. There was this guy, when I was a kid, maybe fifteen, sixteen. A settler from the first community. I had skins he wanted. I’m good at curing. But what he wanted to trade…” He takes his hands from his pockets. Kicks snow off his boot. “He wanted to trade me for a woman. A hostile. He said he could catch one, and I could—But I didn’t. As soon as I realized what he was saying, I told him to get the hell away from me. I wouldn’t have anything to do with him after that.”
“This guy—”
“He’s gone or I’d have put him at the top of my list. His father went back down south, and he followed a couple of years ago. The point is that I got the impression he did that, and he didn’t think it was a bad thing, that those settlers didn’t consider hostiles human. So it happens out here. The question is whether hostiles would do it.”