A Pocketful of Stardust

by J P Barnaby

  It was a number he didn’t recognize, but he slid the bar across the screen to answer anyway. Maybe he’d won the lottery.

  “This message is for… Charlie Hitchens from… Prism Security Detection. An alarm has been triggered at… Stardust Books. We are sending emergency assistance. If this is a false alarm, please press zero to speak to an operator,” an automated voice read to him.

  Noah dropped the toothbrush into the sink and ran for the stairs. He all but leaped over Jake to get to the door and barely closed it behind him as he raced to the truck. The key was in the ignition and he was turning it with one hand and summoning Siri with the other.

  “Siri, call the bookstore,” Noah said, his voice frantic as he rammed the truck into Reverse and pulled slowly back to the street. It wouldn’t help Kyle if he got into an accident. Tires squealed when he dropped the truck into Drive on the road and sped toward the store.

  On a good day, it took six minutes to get to the store on the low-limit small-town roads. He made it there in three, the phone ringing over and over through the car speakers.

  Cooper hadn’t arrived when he reached the store to find a jagged hole in the glass door, which was slightly ajar. He couldn’t think about whether Hope or her companion had guns. He couldn’t think about whether they’d already taken Kyle. He couldn’t think about losing his life if he walked through that door. All he could think about was getting to Kyle.

  Noah flung the door open with a crashing of glass and ran in through the main part of the store. When he reached the end of the aisle, a book went whizzing by him, and he heard an unearthly shriek. Hope’s companion had Kyle by the arm, dragging him toward the door, but had stopped. Noah watched his face drain of color when more books flew at him, seemingly from nowhere.

  “Who’s there?” he demanded as he and Hope looked around wildly. They were both dressed in dark clothes, making their pallor more pronounced.

  The man jerked to the side like someone had jabbed him in the ribs, and he struck out with the hand not holding Kyle. Noah froze, hidden behind one of the displays.

  “What devilry is this?”

  “Elijah, maybe we should—”

  “Don’t presume, woman,” he said, clearly trying to maintain his composure.

  Henry batted him right between the eyes.

  He dropped Kyle’s arms, waved his hands frenetically around his head, and screamed. Hope careened sideways from the force of his blow.

  In a voice lower than Noah had ever heard, Henry boomed, “Be gone from this place and never return.”

  The man screamed and pushed past Hope as he ran. Hope glanced at her brother, who still looked shaken, and ran after Elijah. The remaining glass from the door’s pane crashed to the ground as they fled.

  Kyle slid to the floor, and Noah scrambled the last few feet between them to kneel beside him. “Are you okay?”

  “They didn’t even ask about the box,” Kyle whispered.

  “What?”

  “They came for me.”

  “Did they say anything?”

  “No, he just dragged me downstairs. I don’t remember him from the camp at all. I don’t know who he was.” Kyle looked up above the counter and said, “Thank you, Henry.”

  Henry flicked into existence about six inches from Kyle, also somewhat kneeling on the floor. Kyle jumped and listed sideways.

  “Sorry,” Henry said, his voice sheepish and rather pleased with himself. “I didn’t know what else to do, but this young man had been so disturbed by my presence, calling me evil and such. I took a chance that they would be as unnerved.”

  Blue light swam off and on around the books, and Noah looked up to see a police car pulling up in front of the store. He was about to get up and greet Cooper, but then he saw the man coming through the door, gun drawn.

  “They ran out,” Noah called. “It’s just me and Kyle here. You can put the gun away.”

  Cooper’s stance relaxed and he came up through the aisle. He looked disheveled, his hair at odd angles without the hat and his uniform askew. His skin and clothes were tinged with black, and he looked more harried than someone who’d shown up for a simple nighttime robbery.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. There was a fire out by Jonas’s place. Someone lit up the barn where he keeps his horses. We lost one but got the rest out, and the volunteer fire department has it contained. Gas cans were still layin’ out front.” Cooper leaned heavily against the counter.

  “Think they set that as a diversion?” Noah asked. He kept a hand on Kyle’s arm, not caring if their contact bothered the old cop or not.

  “Probably. I can’t imagine we’d suddenly have a crime wave in the middle of November. If kids were going to do something stupid, they’d have done it on Halloween. And this wasn’t a bunch of kids,” Cooper spat out. “Do you know who they were?”

  Kyle looked at Noah, who nodded to him, a silent reassurance that they could trust Cooper.

  “Almost six years ago, my mother put me on a bus to her sister’s in Chicago. Before that, I’d lived my entire life in a Montana compound with what you would call a cult,” Kyle began.

  “Okay.” Cooper cocked his head, his body leaning forward.

  “The girl is my sister, but I don’t know who the man is.”

  “So you were here when they broke in?” Cooper ran a hand down over his tired face.

  “Yes, we moved him into the room upstairs so he would be safe,” Noah chimed in. “They’d already been to Miss Sarah’s, looking for him.”

  “We thought they were here for the box, but they didn’t even ask about it when they dragged me down here.”

  “They must know that Yeira already has it and that’s why she’s there investigating,” Noah said. “I need to text—”

  “What’s in the box?” Cooper’s hands and jaw were clenched. Noah had seen that reaction plenty of times when he’d come home after curfew.

  “Pictures, videos, some birth and death certificates, and… receipts for bomb-making materials,” Noah finished in a whisper.

  “And you didn’t call me, why?” Cooper asked, his voice rising from annoyance to anger.

  “Policemen came to the camp a few times. They never did anything. And we were raised to believe that the government wanted to hurt us. That they would take us and throw us into prisons. We weren’t to trust systemites, ever,” Kyle explained. “Noah called a friend of his who is a journalist. He said she could help.”

  Cooper sighed, a tired and soggy sound. “Do you still have the box?”

  “Yes.” Kyle sagged back against the wall.

  “Go get it.”

  Noah glanced at Kyle, who heaved himself off the floor. They shared a long look before Kyle headed for the stairs.

  “Why didn’t you call me? Why? This is serious. These people could be getting ready to blow up half the Northwest.”

  “Kyle’s been gone for five years. Those receipts are at least that old, some more. And just because you bring injustice to someone’s attention doesn’t mean it stops. Cracking it open in the court of public opinion may pressure someone to do something.” Noah started picking up the books Henry had used as projectiles toward their intruders.

  “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “That means when I needed help because I was being tortured every day at school, no one did anything because of who Handley’s family was. Today we would call the shit he did to me assault. He should have been arrested. Instead, he just came back to school day after day,” Noah spat. He hadn’t realized how deep the hurt and anger went until it pooled like acid at his feet.

  Cooper closed his eyes, fatigue dulling his features. “You’re right. We gave him too much leeway, and things were different then. Back then it was ‘kids will be kids,’ but that wasn’t right. Today I’d haul the kid off, ask the parents if they wanted to press charges.”

  Kyle returned with the box and handed it to Cooper.

  “Is everything in here?”

 
“Yes. We scanned it all to send it to my friend,” Noah assured him.

  “I’m going to start going through this tomorrow. I may have more questions,” he said, looking at Kyle, who nodded. “In the meantime I’m going to call in a few volunteer deputies to keep an eye on this place and to look for your sister. I’m guessing they’re the ones creeping around in the old truck people have mentioned?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fantastic. Noah, head over to Home Depot in Douglasville tomorrow to get plywood for that door. It will take them at least a week to get out here and fix it. And Kyle, you don’t want to stay here,” he advised.

  “He’s going to come stay with me. I’ve got Jake and my dad’s guns.”

  “Can you shoot one?” Cooper raised an eyebrow.

  “I was going to YouTube it,” Noah admitted.

  “For God’s sake, ask Edna Mackey, then. She’s won awards for marksmanship. I’m sure she can teach you.”

  “Wait, what? Miss Edna?”

  “Yep, she’s a hell of a shot.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “YOU’RE ABOUT as intimidating as Big Bird—how the hell did you scare off two would-be kidnappers in the middle of the night?” Yeira demanded from hundreds of miles away as she sat in some rinky-dink Montana no-tell motel.

  “Well, I pretended to be a ghost. I threw some books at them from where they couldn’t see me and made some ghoulish noises,” Noah replied lamely, and Henry snorted at the table next to him.

  “And that worked?” The skepticism in her voice rang clearly through the cellular airwaves. He glanced at Henry, who nodded.

  “Yeah, but the cops showed up like sixty seconds after they ran out anyway. Do you have any news?” Noah asked, changing the subject.

  “Well, I’ve found out several important things about Montana. One, they really don’t like the government out here. Two, they really don’t like foreigners out here. And three, two government offices and a school have had minor explosions here over the last five years. I got close to Kyle’s camp using the geographic indicators he gave me. Our local affiliate station said that this place is relatively quiet but doesn’t respond well to outsiders. They go into the bigger towns and try to collect donations. They sell some of the produce they grow. They’re pretty self-sustaining. It’s like a militia camp.” He could hear her moving around papers in front of her. Yeira had never been a fan of digital note-taking. He’d teased her about it a few times, but she said a pen in her hand made her think.

  She went on. “I verified the receipts and the certificates—they’re authentic. The guy at the store also agrees that it’s too much fertilizer for a small garden, and they compost anyway. I have most of what I need for a story, I want to round out some more details so that it’s bulletproof before going on air. Tomorrow I’m checking around with local healers to see if they’ve been out to the camp. People like this wouldn’t go to hospitals because they’re part of the system.”

  “You need to be careful. Like I said in the text, I think they know about you. They weren’t looking for the box when they came in, just Kyle. Oh, and when the police got here last night, Cooper asked about the people who broke in. We admitted to who they were and gave him the box,” Noah said.

  “Good, maybe they’ll start doing something about these people. I’ve been watching them bring little girls in and out of the camp as they go out and beg for money and food. They’re malnourished and cowed. I still have nightmares about being a little girl like that in Syria. Someone needs to help them—whether it’s the cops or us.” Pain laced her voice, and he hated it. He remembered how she’d wake up yelling in the middle of the night from her nightmares. She’d get up each morning after and call her little brother. Noah would eat breakfast while they talked, and she never mentioned the nightmares, just listened as he talked. Maybe it grounded her. Maybe the dreams were about him.

  “Okay, let us know. Hopefully Cooper can do something too. Setting a fire and breaking into the store were bold. I don’t want to know what else they’re capable of,” Noah admitted.

  “Will do. You guys keep your heads down,” she said with a gravity that made him shiver.

  “You too.”

  “And I’ll be through on my way back to New York to interview Kyle for the piece. Is he up for that?”

  Noah looked up at Kyle, who seemed to be concentrating very hard on his bowl of instant oatmeal. The tension in his shoulders betrayed his unease. Noah hated adding to it. He reached a hand across the table, and Kyle took it with his left, spoon still in his right.

  “Yeira is going to wrap up there in the next day or two and then head here when she’s finished to talk to you in person, maybe on camera. Would that be okay?” Noah squeezed his hand.

  “I guess I don’t have much of a choice if I want them to leave me alone,” he said miserably.

  “Yes, he’ll speak with you. You can stay with me if you want. The house has another bedroom,” Noah said, his eyes on Kyle.

  “It will probably just be an in-and-out trip. My boss is excited about this piece, especially the progress we’ve made on it. He wants to run with it as soon as everything is vetted.” She sounded distracted now, like she’d already started to plan her next move.

  “You think it will be that soon?”

  “They’re sending out a white guy from the affiliate station to see if he can get into the camp or talk to a few of the members as they’re leaving. We’re also trying to track down any ex-members to see if they’ll talk to us. Kyle didn’t remember anyone leaving, but he was a kid then. We’re talking to people who live nearby. I’ve also spoken to family members like Kyle’s aunt Mary in Chicago. If I had to guess, I’d say two weeks, maybe a little less. Reinterviewing Kyle with more informed questions from our investigation will be my last bit, unless he can get his sister to talk to us?” She ended the phrase on a question.

  Noah thought about Hope and the fierceness in her eyes when she looked at her brother. “I don’t see that happening, plus the police are looking for them. They may be in jail by the time you get here,” he said, letting a little bit of the fear creep into his voice for the first time.

  “Good point. Okay, I’ll keep you up-to-date if I have more, and when I’m going to be there.” Her papers were shuffling again.

  “Okay. I can pick you up if you need me to.”

  “No need. I’ll schedule a car service. The network will take care of it,” she said lightly.

  “Thank you, Yeira,” Noah told her earnestly. “We didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Don’t thank me. You guys may have gotten me a promotion, which makes me feel both guilty and elated.”

  They hung up the phone, and Noah glanced at Kyle, whose face had drained of color. It stood out stark and white against his flaming hair and vibrant blue shirt. Noah took a step forward and opened his mouth to tell Kyle that it would be okay, but he spun on his heel and fled into the coffee bar.

  Noah looked up at Henry, who floated just above him.

  “Tell you what, why don’t you go and talk to them diner folks about buying pastries for the store to go with his coffee? I’ll go talk to him,” Henry said. “I know a little bit about being different.”

  “Because you’re a ghost? I’m not sure that relates here,” Noah said, cocking his head to the side.

  “Because I’m black, child. In the South, during my time, that made you different. To most folks, it made you scary too,” Henry said and started to float off toward the coffee bar. Then, abruptly, he turned. “That’s really the first place your mind went? To the ghost, not the black?”

  “Henry, I don’t think about you being black. It’s not something that makes me look at you differently than I would look at Thad or Miss Edna. The ghost part, on the other hand….”

  “Touché.”

  Noah hollered after them both that he was headed out for the diner and that he’d bring back lunch. Henry grumped about not being able to eat, and Noah set out down the street.
Ananda waved from the front of her store as he passed. Her rings glittered in the morning sun when she shielded her eyes. Thad wasn’t outside, but Noah could see him through the window, talking with a customer. Smiling and animated, he was explaining something in his hand. Noah relaxed. Walking along this street made him feel good. It gave him a sense of belonging, and he could keep it for a bit since the bank was behind him and the diner lay ahead.

  He didn’t see the truck in the lot when he headed for the door. At least he wouldn’t have that constant knot in his stomach while he talked to Miss Jessie about a partnership that would be in both their interests.

  His stomach twisted anyway when he opened the door to see Matt Handley sitting at the counter. He’d taken hold of Miss Jessie’s hand, and she looked at him like he was something on her shoe.

  “Come on, Jessie. I’d give it all up for you if you just give it up for me,” he said with one hand over his heart while the other held hers tightly. She wasn’t struggling to get away, but it did look like she was struggling not to punch him in his smug, laughing face.

  “Hey—” Noah started, but Jessie beat him to the punch. She pulled a long butcher’s knife from under the counter.

  “Normally I use this to cut through them pies in the case when someone asks for a slice.” She pulled the knife in a long slicing motion as she said it. Handley’s eyes got as big as the saucer his coffee cup sat on. “I reckon if it works on them pies, it’ll gut a pig. Don’t you?”

  She stared right into his face as it drained of color. The only coloring in it were the red tinges around his eyes and a faint bruising beneath them. He released her hand and glanced around.

  “Well, if it isn’t the wannabe librarian. Where’s your boyfriend? Is he—”

  This time it was Handley who didn’t get to finish his sentence, because Miss Jessie slammed the knife hilt down on the counter so hard he nearly fell out of his seat. Handley spun to face her, and she smiled an angel’s smile.