Page 67 of At Midnight Comes the Cry
“We were partners. In the department.”
“Oh, yeah, I know that. Just… a strictly professional relationship isn’t the vibe I’m getting.”
She shook her head. “It’s complicated.” The clichéd phrase barely covered their situation. Sneaking around behind all their coworkers’ backs, only for Flynn to come face-to-face with one of the “adult” films she’d made when she was young and spectacularly stupid. She had meant to break it to him, sometime, in her own way, but instead the shock had broken him. The next day he was gone to Syracuse. Their attempts to explain themselves to one another had fallen apart in anger and accusations. Well, she didn’t need to tell all that to Paul.
“We weren’t ever officially going out. We kind of backed into the relationship. Against department rules, by the way. And then we had a… misunderstanding, and he was gone. I guess I want to find a way to make things right with him.”
“Which means getting him out of the mess he’s landed in.” He pushed back from the table. “Speaking of which, how about you show me this comfortable sofa bed I was promised? Monday’s coming at us fast.”
Hadley groaned. “Let’s hope it’s a little bit easier than today was.”
Paul’s voice was dry. “Oh, we can always hope.”
7.
MONDAY, DECEMBER 15
Clare had just finished packing Ethan’s diaper bag when she heard the knock on the kitchen door. Her first thought wasCal followed us,because if there was a parish emergency, someone would call her. Her next thought wasOh God, Russ.She flung open the door. Her heart stopped when she saw Hadley Knox and Paul Terrance. She covered her mouth.
Paul held up his hands. “Your husband’s okay, ma’am.”
“We think he’s okay.” Hadley shot Paul a look.
Clare nodded. She stepped away, waving them in. When she could speak, she pointed to the coffeemaker. “Help yourself. I need a moment.”
She went upstairs to the bathroom and splashed water on her face. She looked in the mirror, breathing in. Out. In. She was dressed for work, black clericals waiting for her to put the collar on. She looked a hundred years old.
Tiny and Yíxin were on the landing, both still in pajamas. Tiny was clutching Rose. “Is it Cal?”
“No.” Clare coughed. “Something’s happened with Russ. You two had better come down.”
Clare poured herself coffee—her hand only shook a little—while everyone introduced themselves in the living room. She gave Ethan, amusing himself in the playpen, a zwieback to chew on, wondering how she would survive if he never had the chance to know his father. She dragged a narrow chair beside the sofa and sat. “Tell me.”
Hadley told her. The militia camp, and Russ in it, and Kevin, too. Paul’s uncle, dead. The lieutenant at the sheriff’s office who needed more evidence.
She set her mug down. “If he needs more to go on, let’s give it to him. Yíxin, tell them about the license plates.”
“We found what looks like their vehicle depot and communications center yesterday, while we were, um, getting Tiny. There were four trucks with snowmobile trailers. I ran the plates; two of them are registered to people Tiny already identified as being associates of her husband. The other two don’t have any arrest records and aren’t on my watchlist.” She stood. “Let me grab my folder from the dining room, you can see for yourselves.”
“Tiny said the hunting shack belonged to her husband, Cal March.” Clare nodded toward where Tiny was sitting, Rose on her lap.
“What’s the communications part?” Hadley asked.
“There was a radio repeater.”
“That means there’s got to be another one somewhere else to receive the calls.” Paul nodded. “Ham radio makes sense as a workaround for the lack of cell signals in the mountains. They call for supplies, whoever the contact is gets the message, and he drops off food or whatever at the cabin.”
Yíxin returned and handed Paul her file. He flipped it open and started reading.
“Let’s summarize.” Hadley stood up. “There’s a militia called Noble Train operating in the area.”
“Knox’s Noble Train.” Tiny looked around the group as if waiting for someone to scold her.
“Thanks, yes. Cal March, known white supremacist, is a member. We assume, but have no proof, that some of his associates are also members.”
“We have at least two of them parked at his hunting shack,” Yíxin pointed out.
“Yeah, but we don’t have any solid link between the shack and the militia group. Just conjecture.”
