“Yes, we do.” She brings me inside and closes the door. She’s dressed now, as if she’s given up all hope of sleeping. On the table, one of her notebooks is open. I glance at it and see not words but numbers. A page filled with algebraic equations.
“One of Hilbert’s problems,” she says.
“Ah,” I say, as if I have any clue what that means.
She pushes the book aside and sits. “I do not know what happened tonight, Detective. There was a man in my room. I am certain of that.”
Her tone is too firm, telling me she’s actually not certain, not anymore, but Val isn’t the type to back down from an embarrassing mistake.
“I misidentified him as Sheriff Dalton,” she says. “I withdraw that accusation. I understand that you might have reason to believe I intentionally misidentified him, but I assure you that is not the case.”
“I don’t think it was.”
“Thank you.” She folds her hands on her lap. “I would not do that. When I realized my obvious error, I sat here working on an algebraic problem, attempting to set my mind at ease, and I realized I should not set it at ease. That my uneasiness was my subconscious telling me I have been making a grave and unforgivable error. You have treated me fairly, Detective. You clearly do not agree with many of my choices and opinions, but you have been able to rise above that in a way I find admirable.”
“Okay.”
“And I have not been equally fair in return. I have been keeping something from you. A secret that I did not reveal because I feared—” She clears her throat. “I feared—and still do—that you will take his side in the matter, and perhaps even go to him with it, and that will place me in danger.”
“By him, I’m guessing you mean Eric.”
She tenses even at his name. “Yes.”
“If he’s done anything—”
“Nothing that can be proven. That is the problem. I have reason to believe he is at the root of a larger conspiracy. That his actions—or inactions—led to my attack and to the attacks on the others. He did not play any direct role in them, but he allowed them to happen.”
“In what way?”
“I believe Sheriff Dalton permits and even encourages the hostiles to strike against our citizens as a method of control.”
It takes me a moment to unpack that. Even then, I have to respond with care, my incredulity kept in check. “You’ve said before that you think Eric should take action against the hostiles. You think he’s wrong to let people into the forest, and he should exterminate the hostiles for the safety of the town.”
“If they were animals, we would do it.”
“Putting aside that for a moment.” Please. “It seems to me that you’re accusing Eric of more than failing to take action.”
“That is why I saw his face on my intruder. I have reason to believe he actively encourages the hostiles, through his interactions with the so-called settlers. A conspiracy to maintain order in Rockton in the most heinous manner, one that allows residents to suffer as a warning to others.”
I don’t respond. Can’t for at least a minute. Then I find my voice with “You keep saying you ‘have reason’ to believe this. You have evidence.”
“If anyone had evidence, Sheriff Dalton would no longer be in this town. What we have is conjecture.”
“We?” My gaze moves to the radio receiver across the room. “The council suspects Eric of this? Phil is the one who told you to go on that patrol, Val. Eric warned you off and was overruled by the council.”
“They were testing him. Phil explained the situation later, in expressing his horror and regret at the incident I suffered.”
“So the council knows you were attacked?”
“Yes, as does Sheriff Dalton, who denied it happened. According to him, I didn’t wish to admit I’d simply gotten lost, so I made up a story.”
“Whoa. Hold on. You told Eric you’d been attacked?”
She smooths her blouse. “The council did. Initially, I decided to say nothing. Phil realized I was upset and persuaded me to tell the truth. He said he would handle it with the sheriff, to avoid any further embarrassment on my part. Given that I was recanting my earlier account, I could see how Sheriff Dalton might have been reluctant to believe the new version. That’s when I got the entire story from Phil—the council’s fears that the sheriff was more deeply involved. He counseled me not to discuss the matter with Sheriff Dalton for fear he’d realize the council was suspicious.”
I get up and walk to the door. Val bleats something I don’t hear. I throw it open and see Kenny on guard duty.
“Kenny? Can you find Eric for me? Tell him to bring the patrol logbook.”
FORTY-FIVE
I’m watching at the window when Dalton appears, moving quickly, with none of his usual swagger and stride. He looks like a schoolboy who’s been summoned to the principal’s office and has no idea why, only knows he’s in trouble.
I open the door and lean out to whisper, “It’s fine. We’re just going to straighten something out.” He nods, but that look stays in his eyes.