“We should.”
No further explanation was necessary. “I’ll let you see to it.”
Michael got in the pickup and placed his Beretta in the bracket under the steering wheel; a short-barreled shotgun with a pistol grip and a sidesaddle of extra shells was clamped between the seats. His rucksack rested on the passenger seat: more rounds, a change of clothes, matches, a first-aid kit, a pry bar, a bottle of ether and a rag, and a cardboard folder sealed with twine.
Michael started the engine. “You know, I’ve never been in jail before. What’s it like?”
Greer grinned through the open window. “The food’s better than it is here. The naps are sensational.”
“So, something to look forward to.”
Greer’s expression sobered. “He can’t know about her, Michael. Or about Carter.”
“You’re not making my job any easier, you know.”
“It’s how she wants it.”
Michael regarded his friend for another few seconds. The man really did look terrible. “Go sleep,” he said.
“I’ll add it to my to-do list.”
The two men shook. Michael put the truck in gear.
41
“Everybody, settle down!”
The auditorium was packed, all the seats taken, with more people crowded into the back and along the aisles. The room stank of fear and unwashed skin. At the front of the room, the mayor, red-faced and sweating, pointlessly banged his gavel on the podium, yelling for silence, while behind him, the members of the Freestate Council—as ineffective a group of individuals as Eustace had ever laid eyes on—found papers to shuffle and buttons to adjust, guiltily averting their gazes like a group of students caught cheating on a test.
“My wife’s missing!”
“My husband! Has anybody seen him?”
“My kids! Two of them!”
“What happened to all the dogs? Did anybody else notice that? No dogs anywhere!”
More banging of the gavel. “Goddamnit, people, please!”
And so on. Eustace glanced at Fry, who was standing on the other side of the room and sending him a look that said, Oh boy, ain’t this going to be fun.
Finally the room quieted enough for the mayor to be heard. “Okay, that’s better. We know everybody’s worried and wants answers. I’m going to bring up the sheriff, who can maybe shed some light. Gordon?”
Eustace took the podium and got to it. “Well, we don’t know much more at this point than everybody else. About seventy folks have gone missing over the last couple of nights. Mind, these are the ones we know about. Deputy Fry and I haven’t gotten out to all the farms yet.”
“So why aren’t you out looking for them?” a voice yelled.
Eustace parsed the man’s face from the crowd. “Because I’m standing here talking to you, Gar. Now just button it so I can get through this.”
A voice barked from the other side of the room: “Yeah, shut your mouth and let the man talk!”
More yelling, anxious voices volleying back and forth. Eustace let it run its course.
“Like I was saying,” he continued, “we don’t know where these folks have gone off to. What seemed to have happened is that, for whatever reason, these individuals got up in the middle of the night, went outside, and didn’t come back.”
“Maybe somebody’s taking them!” Gar yelled. “Maybe that person is right here in this room!”
The effect was instantaneous; everybody started looking at everybody else. A low murmuring rippled through the room. Could it be … ?
“We’re not ruling anything out at this point,” Eustace said, aware of how weak this sounded, “but that doesn’t seem so likely. We’re talking about a lot of people.”
“Maybe it’s more than one person doing this!”
“Gar, you want to come up here and run this meeting?”
“I’m just saying—”
“What you’re doing is scaring people. I’m not having you start a panic, people looking sideways at each other. For all we know, these folks have gone off on their own. Now, pipe down before I lock you up.”
A woman in the front row rose to her feet. “Are you saying my boys ran away? They’re six and seven!”
“No, I’m not saying that, Lena. We just don’t have any more information than what I’m telling you. The best thing people can do is stay in their homes till we sort this out.”
“And what about my wife?” Eustace couldn’t see who was talking. “Are you saying she just up and left me?”
The mayor, stepping forward to retake the podium, held up both hands. “I think what the sheriff is trying to express—”
“He’s not ‘expressing’ anything! You heard him! He doesn’t know!”
Everybody started shouting again. There was no taking this thing back; it was spiraling out of control. Eustace glanced across the stage at Fry, who tipped his head toward the wings. As the mayor resumed banging his gavel, Eustace slipped backstage and met Fry at the door. The two men stepped outside.