For Bennett, the last couple of months are a blur. He barely believes me when I tell him it’s May—he’d presumed this must be a freakishly early thaw, because there’s no way two months have passed. We’ll need to have a long talk about what happened and what to tell his community, but he’s a smart kid, and I trust he’ll help us out with whatever spin we put on it.
We don’t bring the hostiles into Rockton. That’s unsafe on so many levels. We put them in the hangar. Émilie, Phil, and the council arrange a swift pickup.
Do we trust the council with this? I can’t even begin to answer that. All I know is that our priority is Rockton and its residents, and I will grudgingly trust Émilie to oversee the hostiles’ proper care and rehabilitation.
As for the small group still left in the forest, any action there has been put on hold. Rounding them up and shipping them south for reintegration smacks of some very ugly history, but in this case—knowing that most have been unwilling participants in an experiment—it’s a move we must seriously consider.
Dalton and I are in the Roc. It’s two in the morning. Going on forty-eight hours without sleep, and now that the hostiles are gone, we should be in bed. But Isabel wanted a celebratory drink, in honor of solving the hostile mystery, and the truth is that I’m not sure I could sleep just yet.
So we’re in the Roc waiting for Isabel. A single candle lights the silent building. Storm sleeps nearby, a celebratory bone abandoned nearly untouched before she drifted off.
“You did it,” Dalton says, his arms around me as I stand with my back to the wall.
He hugs me so tight I can’t breathe. There are congratulations in that hug and there is pride and there is love, and there are all the things I desperately wanted from my family growing up and never got. I can wallow in self-pity about that, or I can accept that my family was unable to give what I needed. They did love me. They were proud of me. Whatever I lacked, I have it now, in this place, with this man, and my eyes flood with tears.
I look up at him and say, “Do you think it’s enough? That this will fix things?”
He hesitates, and then his smile falters. It doesn’t break or evaporate. One second of dismay, and it returns with a fierceness that sends pride and love coursing through me.
“It will be,” he says. “We’ll make sure it is.”
“I fear it’s not that easy, Eric,” says a soft voice from the shadows.
We turn to see Isabel, bottle in hand as she closes the storeroom door.
“Rey Sol Añejo,” she says as she lifts the tequila. “Bought specially for when you solved this mystery, Casey, because I knew you would.” She sets the bottle down. “You solved all the mysteries. Dead tourists who weren’t tourists at all. Dead settlers mistaken for hostiles. And the hostiles themselves—the biggest mystery of all. Solved in one fell swoop.”
She pours a shot of tequila and holds it out.
As I take it, she says, “But now comes the big question. Does it matter? Yes, I know what’s happening here. Phil told me your suspicions, and I think you’re right. They are shutting us down. The hostiles were the apparent reason but…”
“They were an excuse,” I say.
“Jury’s still out on that one,” says another voice, and I look to see the door open, Petra coming in, others following. Kenny and then April. Mathias and Anders. Phil bringing up the rear and shutting the door behind them.
“Surprise!” Petra says, throwing up her arms.
I chuckle, the sound a little ragged. “Not sure if this is a surprise party or an intervention.”
“Party?” April says. “I was told it was a meeting to plan—”
“—to discuss,” Isabel says as she passes out shots. “A meeting to discuss our future as a town. Or for now, just to say that we’re in.”
“You’re in…?” I begin.
“For your relocation plan,” she says. “Yours and Eric’s.”
Petra clears her throat.
“Yes,” Isabel says. “Some of us believe we’re jumping the gun, and it will all work out fine, but I’m told you believe in planning ahead. Having contingencies, just in case.”
“Who told…?” I look at Dalton.
He shrugs. “I said everything would be okay. I didn’t say how it would be.”
Phil says, “Like Petra, I believe this is indeed jumping the gun. But I also agree with you, Casey, that contingency plans are never a waste of time. I’m not saying I’d join you if you relocated, but I believe I can be of assistance on the management side of preparations.”
I look across their faces, and the tears well again.
April strides over, casting a cold look at the others. “Petra and Phil are correct. This discussion is premature, and it upsets Casey unnecessarily.”
I smile at her and shake my head. “I’m not upset, April. Just…” I’m not sure how to articulate what this means to me, seeing all these people—our friends—here to support the idea of Rockton, to support us and our ability to make it happen. So I just take a deep breath and say, “Thank you. It—it means a lot.”
“And hopefully will indeed be unnecessary,” Isabel says. “But in case it isn’t, I declare this the first meeting of the potential next Rockton. Drink up, and let’s talk.”
Also by Kelley Armstrong
Rockton
Alone in the Wild
Watcher in the Woods
This Fallen Prey
A Darkness Absolute
City of the Lost
Cainsville
Rituals
Betrayals
Deceptions
Visions
Omens
Age of Legends
Forest of Ruin
Empire of Night
Sea of Shadows
The Blackwell Pages (co-written with Melissa Marr)
Thor’s Serpents
Odin’s Ravens
Loki’s Wolves
Otherworld
Thirteen
Spell Bound
Waking the Witch
Frostbitten
Living with the Dead
Personal Demon
No Humans Involved
Broken
Haunted
Industrial Magic
Dime Store Magic
Stolen
Bitten
Darkest Powers & Darkness Rising
The Rising
The Calling
The Gathering
The Reckoning
The Awakening
The Summoning
Nadia Stafford
Wild Justice
Made to Be Broken
Exit Strategy
Stand-alone novels
Wherever She Goes
Aftermath
Missing
The Masked Truth
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
KELLEY ARMSTRONG graduated with a degree in psychology and then studied computer programming. Now, she is a full-time writer and parent. She lives with her husband and three children in rural Ontario, Canada. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Also by Kelley Armstrong
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
First published in the United States by Minotaur Books, an imprint of St. Martin’s Publishing Group
A STRANGER IN TOWN. Copyright © 2021 by KLA Fricke Inc. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Publishing Group, 120 Broadway, New York, NY 10271.
www.minotaurbooks.com
Cover design by Rowen Davis and David Baldeosingh Rotstein
Cover art: forest © Silas Manhood/Arcangel.com; man © Andrei Cosma/Trevillion Images
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Names: Armstrong, Kelley, author.
Title: A stranger in town: a Rockton novel / Kelley Armstrong.
Description: First edition. | New York: Minotaur Books, 2021. | Series: Casey Duncan novels; 6
Identifiers: LCCN 2020047432 | ISBN 9781250781727 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781250786593 (ebook)
Subjects: GSAFD: Mystery fiction. | Suspense fiction.
Classification: LCC PR9199.4.A8777 S78 2021 | DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020047432
e-ISBN 9781250786593 (ebook)
Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at [email protected].
First Edition: 2021
A Stranger in Town Page 32
