Page 34 of At Midnight Comes the Cry

“My partner,” Knox interjected.

“He transferred to the Syracuse PD, and then got loaned to a combined task force for an undercover operation—”

Knox cut him off. “Which brought him back to our area.”

Russ looked at her. “Is that relevant? Anyway, the operation was an investigation into potential domestic terrorist groups.”

“But,” Knox held up her finger, “it got pulled because someone up the ladder didn’t like what they were finding out.”

Russ pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. It got pulled because the funding was reallocated. So Kevin went back to Syracuse—”

“And disappeared.” Knox threw her hands out as if Kevin had performed some magic trick. “No contact with his friends, no calls to his parents—he didn’t even call us about the election.”

“That’s true,” Russ acknowledged, “but he was still in contact witha novice lawyer from the state AG’s office. The two of them cooked up this harebrained scheme to continue the investigation on their own dime, as it were.”

Knox shook her head. “Communicating through a dead drop. That’s actually just the damn mail.”

Russ turned toward the ranger. “The only leads we have are to this post office. He’s mailed a few letters from here. So… we’re following up on that.”

Terrance looked… either inscrutable or dazed, it was hard to tell. He opened his mouth, closed it, and finally said, “This sounds like one of the stories my old tóta tells. Very detailed, and yet also somehow impossible to understand.”

“Look—” Knox began.

The ranger held up his hand. “Just let me, please.” He shrugged off his parka and hung it over the back of one of the barstools. He turned to face them. “A Syracuse detective named Kevin—”

“Flynn. And he’s not a—”

Russ laid his hand on her arm. “Knox. Let the man think.” What he didn’t say was,He could skunk our whole half-assed investigation, such as it is, if he’s not happy with us.

“Kevin Flynn is undercover with a militia group that you believe is in this area because of contacts through the post office.”

“Yes,” Russ said firmly.

Terrance looked at them. “And neither of you have any investigative authority to be here.”

Russ didn’t want the ranger going down that path. “How about you, Officer? What’s your interest in the militia group?”

Terrance pressed his lips together. “We’ve had reports of unsanctioned activity around the Santanoni Preserve. Suspicious groups. Gunfire during nonhunting hours. Possible unpermitted camping. And then four days ago, the ranger in charge of this area dropped out of communication.”

Knox looked at Russ. “I hadn’t heard anything about a missing peace officer.” Normally, any suspicious activity involving a cop went out to every department and branch of law enforcement in the state.

“It’s not unknown for us to lose contact. Pierre’s an old hand, and if he had radio problems or his truck broke down, he knows how to survive and trek out of these mountains.”

Russ opened his hand. “But…”

“But he hasn’t walked out. Hasn’t shown up at any of the fire towers and hasn’t been seen by anyone at one of the trailheads.”

“Could he have made a lean-to and hunkered down?”

“He could. But the weather’s been good these past several days.”

“So why wouldn’t a woodsman who knows the terrain hike out.” Russ nodded. “You think he’s been injured?”

“That was my first thought. But there’s this so-called militia that I keep hearing about.” Terrance shifted his weight, exposing his sidearm. “You two are here looking for them; what can you tell me? Are we talking about your average Meal Team Six wannabes? Or are these people serious?”

“That’s… one of the things we want to learn from Kevin.”

“We saw the information from the terminated investigation,” Knox said. “There were a number of guys who had assault or domestic violence arrests. But there’s no way to connect any of them to whoever is—might be—camping out here. All I can say is I know Flynn, and he’s smart, and if he’s been with them for a month or more, it’s because there’s a good reason to keep eyes on.”