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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 acalculating 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? Thissomeplace safe?” Peterson scratched the side of his nose. “Maybe we should all come with you to yoursomeplace 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 considerthe 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 fromboth 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—”
