Page 62

62

Matt

STU PETERSON WASN’T ALONE.

He stood in the center of Main Street, a rifle cradled in his hands. Four people to his left, another five on his right. All people Matt knew and respected. With a couple of feet between each of them, they’d effectively blocked the road. Matt couldn’t get through unless someone moved.

Peterson wore a Boston Red Sox cap, and he inched the brim up with the tip of his finger before breaking rank, walking over to Matt’s side of the car, and motioning for him to roll down his window. Matt pressed the button.

“Abandoning ship?” Peterson leaned down and studied the faces of those in Matt’s car, his gaze lingering on the girl between him and Gabby. “Maybe you should leave her with me.”

Something in the man had changed, Matt couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Stu Peterson had never frightened him. For the most part, he liked the guy, but the edges of his face somehow seemed harder, and the warmth had left his eyes. There was a calculating flatness to his voice Matt had never noticed before. This wasn’t the Stu Peterson he’d grown up with; this was the Stu Peterson who’d spent far too much time in the streets of Kabul questioning locals about IEDs. This was the Stu Peterson who’d once told him in confidence he couldn’t bring himself to stand next to a stranger wearing a bulky winter coat for fear of what might be underneath. “PTSD never goes away,” he’d told Matt. “If you’re lucky, it sometimes sleeps. Never soundly, but it can sleep. You make do when it does.”

The wind kicked up, swirled the thick smoke. Glowing embers fluttered around like manic fireflies.

“This fire is out of control,” Matt told him. “You and your people need to get someplace safe.”

“And where would that be? This someplace safe ?” Peterson scratched the side of his nose. “Maybe we should all come with you to your someplace safe . You can deputize my little posse, make us official. Help you keep an eye on things.” As he said this, his gaze never left the girl. He took in every inch of her. “You watch that video yet?”

“Not yet.”

“You’ll want to watch the video.”

“I will. When I get to—”

“—when you get someplace safe.” He nodded. “I understand, Deputy. Busy day.”

Another window blew out on the second floor of the library, followed by a cloud of black smoke.

“The fire will take everything on Main Street,” Matt told him. “Probably jump over to Hampton next. That’s what, two blocks from your house? You want to help? Get these people to rig up some hoses. Do what you can to slow it down until we can get trucks from North Hollow or Barton in here.”

“Ain’t nobody coming. I think you know that. If you haven’t figured that out yet, maybe you shouldn’t be wearing that uniform.”

Gabby leaned across the seat, partially blocked his view of the girl. “Have you seen my daughter?”

Peterson’s gaze lingered on the girl a moment longer. Then he looked over at Gabby. “She run off on you? When?”

Gabby told him about the open window.

“Stu!”

The shout came from John Hicks. He was standing at the door of the sheriff’s office.

“He’s got Eisa Heaton in the holding cell,” Hicks told him. “She’s dead—fucking mess—head bashed in against the bars or something!”

Peterson’s face grew red, and he leaned deeper through the window, looking first at the girl again, then at Josh in the back seat, the cuffs on his hands. “Did you hurt Eisa?”

Josh shrunk away from him, shaking his head.

“I’m not so sure I believe you.”

“He’s in custody, Stu. He’s not going anywhere,” Matt nodded out the windshield. “I need you to tell everyone to clear out of my way.”

“I think you already know I can’t do that.”

“I don’t want to arrest you.”

“I’m not so sure you have the authority to do that anymore.”

Matt’s hand inched toward the gun on his hip, barely moved, when Peterson said, “That’s the wrong move, Deputy.”

“What would you consider the right move ?”

“Leave the girl with me and my friends. I think I’d like you to leave Josh here, too, so I can get a handle on what exactly happened to Eisa. Then you take Sally and your girlfriend to your someplace safe and wait this out.” He looked over at Gabby. “We’ll comb every inch of this town. When we find your daughter, we’ll bring her to you. You got my word on that.”

While they were talking, Peterson’s men had spread out. Several of them rounded Matt’s cruiser and flanked them from both sides. Their weapons were all pointing at the ground, but Matt caught Rodney Campos flick off the safety on his 9mm as he edged over toward the sidewalk.

Matt eased his hand away from his own gun. “Okay. But if you hurt Josh, make sure it looks like some kind of accident. Eisa Heaton’s not the only one he hurt today. He’s got it coming.”

Peterson’s eyes narrowed. “Who else did he—”

Matt brought up his elbow and caught Stu Peterson under his chin with enough force to send the top of his head into the door frame with a hard thunk! Then he yanked the gearshift down into drive and stomped the gas. “Hold on!”

The engine screamed and the car shot forward, straight for the men in the street. Still in the window, Peterson twisted, cracked against the side of the car, and vanished behind them as the other men dove out of their way. They were still picking up speed when the gunfire started. Matt yanked the wheel hard to the left, and they skidded off Main to Thornily, but not before their back window blew out as the shots tore into the car.