Mei sighed. There was no clear shot on Chandler. He hadn’t come out of the Meeting House like everyone else. Two of his men had, and Dan watched on from the sidelines as they poked and prodded Bolton. The wheelchair bound man could stand, but evidently didn’t feel the need to. Nadia and the boy were stiff, stood on either side of him. Seriously, Dan was just going to do nothing?
Mei adjusted her angle and looked back at the ringleader of this little tiff. It was a real shame that neither the sheriff nor the mayor had stepped outside the Meeting House. But she did not like this guy one bit, either, and hadn’t since she’d seen him fixing the roof of a house in town, and he’d given her that look. The one he just sent in Nadia’s direction. He would do for now.
Mei did the calculation in her head. She pulled half a breath of air into her lungs and held it. Three. Two. One. Squeeze.
His head exploded.
Mei hopped up, rifle in hand and sprinted, a grin on her face. This gun was messy. She liked it.
For ten minutes she ran as hard as she could. When they searched the woods for her they’d find prints, maybe an indent of her weight in the mud. But she would be long gone. Her orders were to protect the people of this town, and that was exactly what she was going to do. Finding out about Hal and Dan’s father was secondary as far as she was concerned. At least she’d decided it was, and the boss man couldn’t argue because Ben couldn’t call her right now. When he asked, she’d show him the rock scrapes on her palms from climbing that mountain.
What bothered her most was why he thought they needed protection. Sure, this town had been through crazy stuff, but he couldn’t have known that the old sheriff—who’s file said he was dead—was, in fact, alive. That was a bone she intended to pick clean with Remy. Like the woman couldn’t spot a faked death? Mei rolled her eyes as she ran. They should have known he was still around.
And if the boss man knew Chandler was alive, and that he’d been planning on returning to Sanctuary, he should have just told her that. Ben should have stopped it himself. She could tell in about thirty seconds of meeting someone whether they were going to harm another person. Why she could do this, or how, she didn’t really know. But she could, and she’d spotted it with Terrence. Even Bolton, though it was muted. Then there was Ben. The fact her radar had pinged on him of all people wasn’t lost on her.
Ben Mason was not a good man, but their lives were so closely intertwined she couldn’t shake him off. She’d tried. Now she just avoided him instead. It was a good plan. Or she had been avoiding him until she’d seen his brother get killed. John’s body was gone, and Mei couldn’t even dispose of it respectfully for their family.
She was going to have to tell him what happened to his brother—what she’d allowed to happen. Because he would hold her responsible for it. They relied on each other like that, and it was good. Mostly, it was good.
It was all they had.
**
People scattered, but it was only a single shot. A sniper.
Dan waited for the horror of it to wash over him; the feel of hot metal in his hand. The ricochet. His mom as she fell to the ground. The gore. But the memory stayed tucked in his mind. Safe. Thank You, Papa. Dan shut his eyes for a second and then turned away from the sight of that man on the ground.
People ran away, Dan watched to make sure they got where they were going without being bothered by any more of Chandler’s men. An older man fell. When Dan ran over to help him the man cowered, as though Dan was going to hit him. He crouched and forced himself to move slowly. “Timothy, let me help you.”
The old man blinked and lowered his arms. “What are you doing?”
Dan took hold of his elbows and said, “Let me help you up.”
Timothy allowed Dan to steady him as he gained his feet. “We’re all in danger, aren’t we?” The old man and his wife both looked on.
Dan nodded. “It would seem so. I’m trying to figure this out, to fight it from the inside.”
Timothy said, “Well that’s good. But who is going to help?”
“I’m sure there’s a plan in place.” John wouldn’t have ignored the possibility this might happen. Even if the man was gone, there had to be a contingency. They’d had several for different eventualities when the federal government had been in charge. The committee must have put something in place, but Dan still prayed it hadn’t slipped through the cracks as they transitioned to take over everything.
Timothy’s wife said, “But the sheriff!”
Grief threatened to overwhelm him, but Dan locked his knees. It still made him sick that they’d shot John in broad daylight. He couldn’t think about it, or he’d get lost in his own head. “Just keep praying.”
“Oh, we are,” Timothy said. The two both nodded, and Dan watched them go. He crossed back to the Meeting House and pushed his way through the heavy doors inside without looking at what was left of the man on the ground. Who had shot him?
The sheriff yelled, “Who shot him?”
Dan walked into the middle of the old Sheriff, the mayor and eight men all stood around. Most were armed.
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed when he saw Dan. “Do you know?”
Dan shrugged. “Had to have been a hunting rifle of some kind. I think it came from the trees but that’s a mile, easily. Maybe the ranch, or the lake?”
“One of you has to know who shot…whatever his name was!”
Someone said, “Cameron.”
“Who cares? Mount a search. I want the woods scoured until you find that sniper!”
Dan stayed where he was while men filed out. He’d tied up the horses in front of the sheriff’s office. When Dan wandered to the door to look out, he saw them race for his animals. Three men climbed on horseback and rode off.
Dan blinked. Where was Bay?
Peace flooded Dan like he’d jumped into a swimming pool full of it. He held his breath as it resonated through him. Okay, so… Bay was fine? Papa, is Bay fine? Dan heard nothing, but the sense of peace didn’t leave him. Bay was gone, but it wasn’t reason to panic. Did it have to do with the fact John’s body was now gone?
Dan didn’t want to entertain the false hope that the sheriff had somehow climbed on Bay and left. Someone would have seen him, wouldn’t they?
Peace.
Okay, so it was possible John was okay. Somehow. Dan shook his head. It was so hard to believe, but if there was anything he’d learned since he first heard about God it was to trust Him. So that was what Dan was going to do.
He turned to look at the sheriff, facing him, the mayor’s profile. The mayor only had eyes for Chandler. The peace retreated somewhat. Not fine. Dan reached back to touch the edges of the pages of the Bible tucked back there. He prayed.
The mayor had abdicated all authority to Chandler. The older sheriff was definitely in charge of this operation.
Collins said, “It was that deputy. Mei. It had to be her. Ben Mason probably trained her to kill and then sent her here to take care of all of us.”
The sheriff didn’t move his attention from Dan. “That infers he knew about the plan all along. Which he could not have, as the only ones who did were you and I and a select few others.”
“And they sent me here to take care of things. To give you the freedom to leave and formulate a plan since Bill Jones was dead. I should be rewarded for my part.”
The sheriff turned his head and faced the mayor. “I always knew you’d be a liability.”
“I’ve done my share. You would never have known what was happening in town if I hadn’t been here while you were gone. For two years I took care of business, I kept things running. I got you your own army!” The mayor huffed. “You need me.”
“Maybe.”
“I want to kill the Chinese girl myself.”
Dan took a step back. He didn’t want to be a part of this. He knew how to use a rifle, and if he could get his hands on one then he would end Chandler and Collins. He could do it.
The ricochet. His mom’s eyes flashed, and she
fell. Hit the floor with a sickening thud.
“Not so fast.” Chandler lifted a hand, palm out.
Dan’s feet halted. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to leave. Papa. The plan to stick around, to be in the inner sanctum and try to help from the epicenter of trouble was unravelling. They were looking for Gemma and Mei, and Dan wouldn’t be able to stop them from doing whatever they wanted to the two women when they were found. He had to kill these men, but he wouldn’t know if he could until it was too late. What if he froze? What if he couldn’t pull the trigger?
A million thoughts raced through his head. Would God help him kill these men? Would he be able to do it if it saved Gemma’s life?
Dan cleared his throat. He had to stall them until he figured out a plan. “This is about my father?”
The sheriff said, “Is there anything in this town that isn’t about your father?”
“Yes, plenty. But you wouldn’t know that, because you haven’t been here.” Dan motioned behind himself. “These people have lives, and so do I. But you don’t care about that, do you? I don’t think you ever did, or you wouldn’t have ignored child abuse. You wouldn’t have let a million other things pass by un-investigated. You’d have done something good for this town. Now you want whatever it is you want, and nothing is going to hinder you getting it.”
Chandler said, “You’re beginning to figure it out.”
“Figure what out?”
The side of Sheriff Chandler’s mouth curled up. “Your father made me a promise, and he reneged on that deal. So I sold him out to the very people he was hiding from. Bingo. Dead in the lettuce.”
“And the town?” Him, Gemma—what about them?
“Sanctuary took forty years of my life. Now I’m going to get what I deserve.” He glanced once at the mayor. “Retirement in a place of my own making. And I choose here.”
“So you’ll torture and torment these people until they do whatever you say, and then you’ll kick back and live your golden years stuck here, just to spite us?”
“Life is what I make it. This town took a pound of my flesh, and now I intend to take back that pound from this town.”
Dan took another step toward the door.
“But the son of Bill Jones isn’t going anywhere. You see, I found something out while I was gone from this town. The CIA agents who were hunting your father? They are very much alive. And they might be old, but they still hate your old man for ruining their lives. They want the papers Hal kept to be destroyed—”
The mayor butted in with, “I took care of that.”
Sheriff Chandler shot him a disapproving look. “Any living family members, or any other persons with any knowledge of what happened, are to be taken care of. And the photo of the CIA agents that was in Bill Jones’s possession—a photo that was not in the radio station room—is to be found and turned over. They paid handsomely for the promise that I would take care of their problem once and for all. And I’m sure I’ll find time for their task while I set up my regime here in Sanctuary.”
He stepped closer. “Now tell me—”
The door behind Dan slammed back against the wall. “Sheriff Chandler!” Terrence Evangeline’s parents raced in, flushed and sweating.
“We didn’t know.” Mrs. Evangeline rushed to the mayor, completely ignoring Sheriff Chandler. “After you told us about Terrence and Gemma we decided that meant she—”
Chandler cut her off. “Get to the point.”
“We had Gemma.”
Everyone waited for more.
“And now she’s gone.” Mr. Evangeline pressed his lips together, more in tune with what was happening in the room than his wife, and knowing he should tread cautiously.
Dan stepped forward. “What do you mean you had Gemma?”
The mayor said, “She’s gone?”
Mrs. Evangeline nodded. “We went home to get her for you, so we could bring her back here, but when we got there she was gone. She broke free and escaped.”
Mr. Evangeline was a deacon in Dan’s church. “You were holding her captive?”
The sheriff said, “If you don’t know where she is then maybe you should go and look for her. That would be more useful than you standing around here trying to convince me I shouldn’t kill you for being imbeciles.”
“But the mayor said—”
Chandler didn’t let her finish. “Seems like Collins made a whole lot of promises. But I’m in charge here, and I want the two of you out of my sight. Bring Gemma to me, and I won’t kill you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir.” Mrs. Evangeline echoed her husband. They bowed and scraped their way back out of the door. The sight of two people he’d respected in a posture of obeisance to the man who was destroying their town made Dan sick. Where was Gemma? If she’d escaped there were only a few places she might go to hide.
“You know her.” Sheriff Chandler stalked toward Dan. “Where would Gemma be hiding? Where did she go?”
Dan wanted to shrug.
“I know you’re friends. Probably lovers, too, with a special place you go to be together.”
The tent.
For whatever reason it sprang to mind. He hadn’t been in that part of the woods for so many years. Not since he discovered how he felt about Gemma, realized it wasn’t okay for them to be alone for hours with no one knowing where they were—or what they were doing.
Chandler palmed his gun and waved it toward Dan in a loose grip. “Tell me.”
Dan wasn’t going to lie and say he didn’t know where she could be. He was pretty sure that even if he wanted to, he couldn’t lie that well. “The library. Her house. The radio station. My farm. She could have gone anywhere.”
“We’ll find her.”
“I’m sure you will.” He hoped that wasn’t true, because when Chandler did they would both be dead.
**
Gemma collapsed between two trees. Twigs dug into her knees as she crawled, her breath heaving, into the spot where the tent had been tucked. This was the right place. She looked around, but there was no material left. Even more bizarrely, branches covered with leaves had been woven together to obscure the inside.
She collapsed onto the ground. Soft grass, cleared of rocks and sticks. Gemma rolled over, uncaring that grass and mud were going to cling to her hair. She wasn’t going to get caught, and she’d had to dodge two sets of men out searching. For her? For someone else?
Now she just wanted to rest.
She hadn’t been out to the site of her tent for years. What had happened to this place? Someone had cleaned it up, for sure. Did they use it? Probably she couldn’t lay claim to it anymore, given how long it had been. Still, part of her would always think of this place as “hers.” Gemma lifted up on her elbows and looked around. Four-by-six, the light was dim but still peeked through the tightly woven branches. Whoever they were, they’d spent a phenomenal amount of time here perfecting the design to keep the person inside hidden.
When she found out who, she needed to give them a gift basket. This was a wonderful place to hide.
In the corner sat a lantern, one she remembered immediately. Dan had given her that smiley face sticker. Now it was worn on the edges and the yellow had dulled. Gemma sat up and looked around. Nothing else remained, though at the edge behind her head there was a spot which had been cleared and then layered over with pine needles. The difference was purposeful, and she moved toward it.
Leaves rustled.
Gemma’s hand halted four inches from the pine needles so purposefully arranged. She waited, hardly daring to breathe for fear of being heard. And what was she going to do, stay here forever? It would get dark in a couple of hours, and really cold tonight. She had no food. No water. And meanwhile the town was under siege with no one to save them.
Gemma wasn’t a hero, or a fighter, or even that good at making plans. When she wrote, she could brainstorm for an hour the best way to get the hero out safely. There was no such luxury to save Dan. She ne
eded help. She just didn’t know how she was going to get it, or where to get it from. So Gemma prayed and asked God to help her and the town of Sanctuary because as far as she could see there might not be a way out of this. Sheriff Chandler wanted the town he wanted, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.
Leaves. A branch shifted, and foliage to her left was disturbed. She’d been in here with small animals before, but the movement lengthened. Stretched from her left all the way to in front of her.
She reared back. Was there someone in here? It looked like they were emerging from beneath the ground.
There was a low moan, and the movement dropped back down to the ground.
“There you are.”
Gemma squealed and fell aside onto her hip. Mei crouched in the entrance, one knee to the dirt and the biggest gun Gemma ever saw in her hand. She set it down in the far corner. “Man, that thing is heavy. There’s one thing they don’t tell you, that you’ll end up tromping around with tons of gear that makes you feel like you weigh another hundred pounds.”
Gemma whispered, “What are you doing here?”
“Duh, helping.” The Chinese woman frowned. “Obviously.”
Gemma touched pine needles on the ground. She swept them back with her hand to reveal the dirt underneath.
“Hey, there’s something I should tell you.”
Her fingers sank into the soft earth, and whisked around the frame of something cold. Metal.
“Gemma? You listening to me?”
She dug the box from the ground with their bare hands. Little bigger than the cash box she kept at the library to collect late fees, it was heavy. She set it down and clicked the latch. It popped up. Gemma stared at the lid but didn’t move to open it.
Mei reached past her and grabbed it. She flipped the lid. “Letter. Some papers. Whoa.” Mei lifted a gun. “It’s a Barak.” She caught Gemma’s gaze and said, “Not an American weapon. Whoever got this wants something with power and zero flash.” She held it out. “Guess it’s for you.”
Gemma stared at it so long Mei set it on the dirt in front of her.
Sanctuary Forever WITSEC Town Series Book 5 Page 28
