Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1

by Lisa Phillips

  Given what the town was established for, he’d expected to see more household names. But maybe the government had them change their looks when they went into the program. He’d have to find out who still needed to testify and learn how that worked. Find out who had been here longest, so he could pick their brain for how to do this job in a way which made everyone in town’s lives as safe as they could be.

  The previous sheriff might have upheld the law with a light touch, mostly leaving people to get on with their lives. On the other hand, he might not have tolerated even the slightest infraction. He’d have to ask Palmer. His deputy was sitting with a table of people who all had his red coloring—an older couple and two younger boys. John didn’t want to interrupt his family time.

  “Battle Night will commence at eight p.m. on Saturday. If you’re not part of the proceedings you are advised to stay in your homes after dark in order to avoid becoming a casualty.”

  The mayor was frowning at his paper. “Guns can be collected from the radio station after noon tomorrow and are to be returned after the operation is concluded. If you are under eighteen, you must have a signed permission slip on your person at all times and wear the appropriate colors.”

  John leaned in the Betty’s direction. “What’s this?”

  Her lip curled. “Paintball. But the Major General organizes everyone into teams and claims it’s all about strategy and mounting assault versus defense.” She shook her head. “It’s just an excuse to run around like hooligans if you ask me.”

  Judging by the looks on the faces of more than a few people, “Battle Night” was something to look forward to. Being cooped up like this probably got old. The chance to blow off steam, even with paintball of all things, could be seriously fun.

  The mayor continued, “Safe zones are the barn at the ranch and the marked area at the farm. But Dan says if you mess with the crops you’re disqualified and banned from participating for a whole year. Teams will meet at their respective zones at seventeen-thirty.” He moved the paper to the back of his stack, displaying precisely how he felt about “Battle Night.”

  Pat pulled on John’s sleeve. “Can I go to that?”

  “Let me find out more, first. Okay?”

  Pat nodded but slumped lower in his seat. John looked around again. The woman was still there, leaning against the back wall with her hands in the pockets of her coat. Her hair was swept over one shoulder, covering the side of her face.

  The mayor continued to make announcements about a raccoon getting into someone’s trash, and a church that met Sundays in the Meeting House. Probably that was a good way for John to meet people and be sociable outside of the times he was around town in uniform. People needed to get to know him as a man and a father as well as their new sheriff.

  “Father Wilson, would you like to come and pray over us?”

  A grizzled man stood. He had a minister’s collar on his black shirt and walked with soft steps to the podium, even though his craggy face said gangster. He held the sides of the podium with both hands. The ranch guys all removed their hats and all around the room people bowed their heads.

  The minister bowed his head and spoke in a voice that sounded like he had laryngitis. He thanked the Good Lord for food and fellowship and asked Him to watch over the town and keep each one of them safe. He prayed for Sheriff Chandler’s health and that John and Pat would feel welcome. At the end he tacked on an addendum that the B team would be victorious.

  The room erupted into cheers on one side and a chorus of “boo” on the other. Everyone laughed. The minister looked up a gap-toothed grin on his face. “Amen!”

  Most of the people in the room yelled back, “Amen!” But there was a lot of, “No way!” and “Not gonna happen!”

  People got up, dispersing with their plates to where Olympia stood beside a trash can and a cart of basins, one full of soapy water and one empty.

  Matthias clapped him on the back. “Did you meet my Momma?”

  “Olympia?”

  He nodded and motioned to the three Hispanic women behind him. Two were tall and slender and one was younger and plump. But all of them were beautiful. “These are my sisters, Maria who is married to Tom. They have two kids. And this is Antonia and Sofia. They run the nursery and organize all the landscaping in town.”

  John shook their hands.

  “That’s my brother, Diego.”

  The young man Matthias pointed to stood with the table of ranch guys but waved at him. Diego’s features differed from Matthias, his coloring darker whereas Matthias seemed to favor his mother.

  Matthias must have seen John’s frown since he added, “Takes after the Puerto Rican side of the family. Mama is Greek.”

  Olympia wandered over.

  John included her in his smile. “You have a beautiful family.”

  “They’re a handful, every one of them.”

  “Mama!” Plump Sofia’s hands shot to her hips.

  John laughed at the gleam in Olympia’s eyes. They might drive her crazy but she loved each one. He looked around, searching for Pat. He was at the back of the room in conversation with the lone woman who’d entered late. She’d crouched to Pat’s level and nodded at something he said.

  “Excuse me.” John made his way over and put his hand on Pat’s shoulder. “Hello.”

  The woman looked up and his breath caught. Her eyes were dark almost black and the same shade as her long, straight hair. “Sheriff. I’m Andra.”

  “Andra?”

  “Yeah, Dad. Like Alexandra, but without the Alex part.”

  She shot Pat a smile. “I should be going.”

  “Somewhere to be?”

  Her smile dimmed. “Yeah, home. And it’s a decent walk so I should head out before it gets too dark.”

  John nodded. He didn’t make a point to argue with a woman if he could help it and she seemed pretty determined to leave. Though, run away was probably a more accurate description.

  “It was nice to meet you.” She kept her eyes on Pat and then turned to the door.

  John looked at his son. “How’d you get all the way over here?”

  Pat shrugged. “She didn’t have anyone to talk to, so I came over to say hi.”

  “That was nice of you.” John squeezed his shoulder. “What’s she like?”

  “I think she’s lonely. Don’t you think so?”

  “Could be. We’ll have to find out.”

  “There’s no need to worry about Ms. Caleri, Sheriff.”

  He turned back and saw the doctor, one arm around his wife.

  “Caleri?”

  Harriet swallowed like there was a bad taste in her mouth. “Andra Caleri. She keeps to herself and in return no one bothers her. Except when she shows up at the medical center and yells at me for no reason whatsoever.”

  “Is there something about her I should know?” John could look it up in Andra’s file but it was better to get people’s opinions. That said more about someone than a report did.

  “Just give her a wide berth as much as you can. That’s what we do.”

  The doctor nodded. “It’s best that way. I’ve heard she’s not very sociable. People who show up at her house on accident don’t have anything good to say about the experience.”

  How did you show up at someone’s house by accident?

  The question must have shown up on John’s face because the doctor said, “She lives outside of town, up in the mountains some but no one knows precisely where.”

  Harriet nodded. “Some people think she’s lived by herself for so long it’s affected her mental state. If you know what I mean.”

  Right. She seemed sane enough to John, but how did you tell? “Well, I appreciate the heads-up.”

  “Goodnight, Sheriff.” They swept out the door as a single unit.

  “Why were they mean about Andra? She’s nice.”

  John looked down at Pat. “I’m not really sure. Maybe Andra doesn’t get on well with some of the people in town. Or maybe she jus
t likes her privacy.”

  “Like when you go in a stall because you don’t want to stand by everyone else at the urinal?”

  John laughed. “That is exactly what privacy means.”

  “But Andra’s a girl.”

  “Girl privacy is probably different, but she could still want that.” John ruffled Pat’s hair until the kid shifted his head from under his hand. “Let’s go see about the sleeping arrangements, yeah? It’s been a long day.”

  “Can’t we stay for the movie?”

  “Not tonight. It’s late and we still need to unpack.”

  They stepped outside, waving to those who called goodnight to them. John took Pat’s hand and they walked across the street. To the right of the Meeting House the doctor and his wife stood together, both looking up the street. A quarter mile up where the street ended, Andra walked along with a flashlight in one hand lighting her way as she stepped off the road toward the trees.

  A second later, she was gone.

  Chapter 5

  Just after nine the next morning John stood in the sheriff’s office with his second cup of coffee. He stared at the map of the town tacked to the wall. Sanctuary was shaped like a wrapped piece of candy. The buildings and houses in the middle were an oval and the sides fanned out—the ranch on one side and the farm on the other.

  He stepped closer and looked in the direction he’d seen Andra walk last night. The map showed nothing but trees, although a broken line delineated a path running from that corner of the town up into the foothills. It was possible a structure had been built but never added to the map. The previous sheriff must have known something, but John couldn’t exactly call him and ask.

  The bell over the door rang and Deputy Palmer strode in. “You’re up. I figured you’d be getting settled.”

  “Just getting a feel for the place.” He didn’t intend on working his first day. But there was a lot to this job he felt didn’t have much to do with office hours or procedure. Too much of it was human interaction and dealing with people co-existing alongside one another. He needed to do that in a way it would last.

  With Pat still sleeping, John had pulled on jeans and a t-shirt and dug up some clean socks before he slipped his sneakers on and came down for a look around. The apartment door was open, in case Pat called out. Especially since in the middle of the night he’d burrowed into John’s side. Again.

  Deputy Palmer sat at his desk and fired up his computer. “Questions?”

  John sat at his desk. The chair was huge and the stuffing had been squished into submission buy someone whose frame was considerably larger than his. “Sure. Was most everyone at the dinner last night?”

  “Far as I could tell. I think old man Jenkins is still at the medical center but he might have been sent home before the dinner. He has the flu but he’s like ninety.” Palmer grinned.

  There was a lot about him that reminded John more of a little boy playing dress-up than a man in uniform protecting his town.

  “You’re probably sick to death of shaking hands. I know I’d never remember all their names if I learned them in one night.” Palmer clicked his mouse and typed, his eyes scanned the screen and then he logged it off again.

  “The files are all back here?” John motioned to the wall of cupboards behind him. Each was locked with a padlock, the keys for which were in John’s safe. “For everyone in town?”

  “Families are grouped together, so you can find out who testified and who they brought into the program with them. They’re more like case files than personnel files and there are one hundred thirty-two which cover all the residents’ cases. Families are in one file, so there are more than that many people. Still, it’ll probably take a year to get through all of them.”

  John glanced at the cupboard doors. If he started with Andra’s, would it be obvious why? “And the reports filed by the sheriff’s office?”

  “All that’s computerized now, so you’ll find it on your desktop although Chandler liked paper so mostly he had Dotty type up his reports even though that’s not part of her job. She’ll be in on Monday.”

  Palmer filled a hot cup from the pot John had brewed and set his hat back on his head. Was John going to have to wear one of those? It was clearly part of his uniform but Grant hadn’t included one. Was that because he figured John wouldn’t wear it anyway?

  “I’m off to walk around a bit, stretch my legs.” Palmer zipped up the jacket over his uniform. “I don’t take the car unless it’s an emergency. Mostly I can get anywhere in town in ten minutes if needed, but it’s still quicker to run here from wherever I am and then grab the car.” His face fell. “Still, it’s been two years at least since anything remotely interesting happened.”

  “I see.”

  “The worst thing that happened recently was a bunch of people’s lawn gnomes got stolen before thanksgiving. But then they showed up in Hal’s Christmas display over at the radio station all dressed up as little elves, so everyone got a good laugh about it.”

  “There’s a radio station?”

  “Sure.” Palmer indicated the small radio over by the coffee pot. “Broadcasts most of the day and into the night. All old school classic rock and nothing else. Absolutely no girl music, he says.” Palmer chuckled and it sounded like a mouse squeaking. “Hal’s a hoot and the best source for the weather. He just knows when it’s gonna turn. And if you need to get an announcement out people will hear, most everyone listens in just after dinner. Other than that we’ve got a weekly paper and we get limited channels from the satellite. That’s why Betty started movie night.”

  “And this Battle Night they were talking about last night?”

  “The Major General started that up. He decided if there was an invasion then we should probably be ready. He runs training three days a week, running and push-ups and all that.” Palmer blew out a breath. “I tried it for a while. I thought it would be fun but it wasn’t.”

  Given the obvious paunch in Palmer’s middle, John figured being out of shape and not inclined to work out might have something to do with it. The guy needed to start working out instead of just sucking it in, or he was going to hit a downward slope when he reached forty and things wouldn’t be pretty.

  “Twice a year they have Battle Night and the teams are split into squads, some attacking and some defending. It’s basically capture the flag, which the kids do. But with masks, and black clothes and paintball guns.” He puffed out his chest. “It’s all in fun.”

  “How many people do it?”

  “Like thirty, maybe? Bolton heads up the A team and they usually win. But Dan Walden from the farm took over the B team, since Tom broke his foot. There’s a rumor going around about some secret weapon but no one knows what it is. Or who.” He headed for the door. “Should be fun. I’ll see you there?”

  “Maybe.” John leaned back in his chair. “I might hang around, check it out.”

  While probably a whole lot of fun and the dream evening for practically every male in town, John couldn’t help mentally listing all the things which could go wrong.

  Palmer lifted his coffee cup in salute. “See you later, then.”

  “Sure. You need anything today?”

  He shook his head. “Y’all just get settled in.”

  The man seemed content to run the show for as long as John needed to get unpacked. Sure, John needed to figure out getting Pat enrolled in the school and it would take a few weeks to settle in. But he didn’t need Palmer to act as his crutch in the meantime.

  When the door shut behind the deputy, John grabbed up the phone and dialed Grant’s number.

  “Hey brother.”

  “How’s things?” John turned on his computer and logged on.

  “How are things in town?”

  Grant was going to brush off John’s question? “The town is fine. I want to know what’s going on with Genevieve and the girls. Did you call the therapist I recommended?”

  “Yeah.” Grant sighed. His steps echoed through the phone
line and then a door shut. “Brenda’s going to call Genevieve first thing Monday and ask her if she’d be amenable to sitting down with me and us talking. But she recommended I come in alone also.”

  “That’s good.”

  Grant huffed. “The director of the marshals does not need to sit down in a…what did she call it? Oh, yeah. A safe place to talk about his feelings.”

  “Be that as it may—”

  “No. I don’t want to do it.”

  “Do you want your family back?”

  Grant sighed but didn’t answer.

  Pat emerged from the apartment stairs and John waved him over. “I’ll take that as a yes. Do this, Grant. Suck it up and get them back.”

  The kid stumbled over, his eyes unfocused. He climbed onto John’s lap, burrowing in the same way he’d done during the night.

  “Fine,” Grant said. “But you know there’s a therapist in town. It’s customary for new residents to meet with her at least once so she can file a report on how they’re acclimating.”

  “Good luck with that.” John wrapped his arm around his son. “I’m way too busy. Maybe next month.”

  Grant laughed. “Door swings both ways, brother.”

  “Not here it doesn’t. Didn’t you know that?” John laughed. “Did you approve Battle Night? Apparently it’s this thing they do here.”

  “Sure, what’s the harm? The Major General wants to re-live his glory days commanding troops and the rest of them are just blowing off steam. It’s mostly harmless.”

  That seemed to be the party line.

  John clicked his mouse and pulled up the sheriff’s office reports for the past month. There were less than twenty entries. “I’ll check it out. If it’s not in the best interest of the safety of the town, I’m pulling their authorization. I’m not condoning something that creates mobs of people racing around trying to injure each other, a mess of stuff to clean up the next day, or more than a minimum of five minor injuries logged at the medical center. They can get their jollies elsewhere.”

  “Your call.”

  “You’re right. It is.”

  Grant chuckled. “I think you’re going to do fine. Check in with me next week, yeah?”