“You’re supposed to be keeping us safe!” shouted a man in the front row. The crowd was restless, some muttering, some shaking their heads. Their terror was quickly turning to anger, now that Officer Davis was making himself a focal point.
“That’s what I want to talk about next,” said Davis, shouting over the low rumble of voices. “Just stay calm, stay calm. Let me talk.” The room quieted. “That’s exactly what I want to talk about next.”
“I’m sweltering,” Brooke whispered, fanning herself.
“Just listen.” I wiped the sweat from my forehead and watched Officer Davis carefully.
“As you know,” he said, “this town has had five deaths in less than a week. We have no clear evidence linking any of them to each other, and one of them might even have been an accident, but the fact remains that this volume of deaths has very few precedents. The nature of those precedents suggests two courses of action, and I’m afraid you’re not going to like either of them.”
“It’s too damn hot in here!” shouted a frail voice behind me. The crowd looked over, and I turned to see Beth standing in the back row, shaking her cane. Ingrid tried to pull her back into her seat.
“Well,” said Ingrid, laughing drily, “everyone’s thinking it.”
The crowd laughed with her, some of the tension broken, and Beth eventually started laughing too. I looked back at Davis and hoped the laughter would ease the blow of whatever he said next.
“Number one,” said Officer Davis. “The presence of a possible spree killer, or even a mass murderer, has garnered national attention. This is good because it means the cavalry is coming: within the next twenty-four hours we will have national guard, active army, and the police SWAT team in from Oklahoma City. Do any of you remember the manhunt for the Boston bombers? That’s the kind of protection we’re talking about—dozens, if not hundreds, of boots on the ground, patrolling your city and rooting out this killer. You’ll be as safe as we can make you.”
“Dammit,” I whispered. “We’re going to get another Fort Bruce.”
“Boston was a lockdown,” said a woman in the crowd. “Are you going to trap us all in our homes?”
“That’s the bad news,” said Officer Davis. “There are only two ways to keep you safe in a situation like this, and if we evacuate you, we’d just be letting the killer slip out with you. We have to keep you here and, for your own safety, we have to keep you under lockdown.”
“No one’s told me about this yet,” whispered Mills, pulling out his phone. “Excuse me.” He got up and walked to the door, holding the phone to his ear.
“This is going to get ugly,” said Brooke. By the murmurs in the crowd I could tell they had similar thoughts. Even Beth was cursing under her breath, more harshly than I’d have expected.
“I know you’re not happy about this,” said Officer Davis, “but please remain calm. We will be bringing in food and water and other emergency services. While you remain—”
“What about our jobs?” a man asked.
“You get a day off,” said Davis.
“You can’t call in sick to a farm,” growled another man.
“I understand that this is difficult,” said Officer Davis. “But what do you want us to do? Martial law will give us the breathing room to catch this killer before any more of you die. We’re doing this to protect you.”
“You’re doing this to control us!” shouted Beth, and the crowd shouted in agreement. A mob was forming, and she was their voice.
“We have leads we are following as we speak,” shouted Officer Davis. “Chemical samples from the Glassman’s house. Footprints and weapon marks from the attack on Jessica Butler. Forensic data from the truck that crashed into Corey Diamond’s bedroom.”
“What’s to stop another truck from crashing through my window?” shouted a man in the back. “You can’t even keep us safe in our homes!”
“If anyone is on the street they will be seen,” Davis shouted. “If anyone starts a truck or walks through an alley or even picks up a weapon, they will be seen.” He pounded his fist as he talked. “Do what we tell you and no one will get hurt. And for the love of God, do not take the law into your own hands. Don’t open your doors for anyone but my men, but don’t shoot anyone, either. I know you all have guns and I want you to be able to protect yourselves, but if people start shooting each other through their windows I will come down on you like the hammer of heaven. Stay in your homes, enjoy your vacation—mandatory as it may be—and let us do your jobs. The army gets here tomorrow, but martial law begins in one hour. Meeting adjourned.”
“This is terrible,” said Ingrid.
“It’s a necessary evil,” I said. “Go home and get Beth home and just do what they say.”
“Are you coming?” asked Ingrid.
“Maybe just to stop by for our clothes,” I said. “I’m sorry I don’t have time to explain.”
“Marci?” asked Ingrid, looking at Brooke.
“Not anymore,” said Brooke.