Page 73 of At Midnight Comes the Cry
“But you keep her restrained. For her own good. Think of this as putting your husband in a car seat.”
Tiny covered a giggle with her hand. “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry. It’s just a funny image.” She sighed. “Do you promise he won’t go to jail?”
“He may be in the county lockup for a little while until he makes bail. But it’s not a bad place. The chief’s mother? Who you’ll be staying with for a bit? He put her in there, once.”
“Wow. Okay.” She stood. “All right, let’s do it. Let’s start getting him back to the way he was before.”
The deputy chief had refused the title of “acting chief,” but that didn’t mean he wasn’t, well, acting like one. “You’re leaving me shorthanded, here, Hadley.”
Reverend Clare, Tiny, and their assorted babies and baggage had all departed from the station for Clare’s mother-in-law’s house after making their statements. Now MacAuley had her on the carpet—metaphorically speaking, since his office was a converted coat closet floored with peeling vinyl tiles. Along with the title, he had also refused to use the chief’s office.
“It’s ten days before Christmas. I’ve got merchants screaming about foot patrols to help prevent shoplifting, the resort wants more traffic control, and DUIs are up from everybody getting a little too merry at their parties. You’ve been off duty for the better part of a week, and now you want to go haring off to Lewis again to sit around the sheriff’s office and hope they’ll apply for a warrant?”
“Dep, if this wasn’t a cross-jurisdictional case before, it’s for sure one now.”
“Yeah. Between us and Warren County, not up north.”
“Well, the chief is up north. And Flynn. And we do not leave our people behind.”
“This isn’t the marines, Hadley.” MacAuley rubbed his face. “Goddammit, when Russ gets back, I swear I’m going to put him under house arrest.”
“Ranger Terrance and the assistant state attorney are up there presenting their evidence. I’m the only one who was an eyewitness to the militia camp and to the chief being captured. If I need to make a statement directly to the county judge, I’m going to do it.”
MacAuley stared at the fax machine for a moment. “Okay,” he finally said. “You can go. But you’re making up the time. And you’re working Christmas Day this year.”
“Christmas Day!”
“Take it or leave it.”
Ugh. Well, the kids were always begging to open their presents the night before anyway. Maybe this was the year to give in. “I’ll take it.”
Paul and Yíxin arrived from Plattsburgh just after Hadley pulled in to the sheriff’s office, so she had the pleasure of seeing the assistant state attorney’s reaction to Betty Beavers Fuel Stop.
“Get the fever, fuel with the Beaver? What the hell are you people doing up here?”
“Don’t ask.” Paul pulled a zipped folder out of the car.
“Dude, I cannot get to DC fast enough.”
“Did you get my text?” Hadley asked.
“Yeah. What a shit show. I mean, I’m glad you’ve got confirmation Van Alstyne’s safe, but…”
“But now we’ve got to worry about Reverend Clare and March’s wife.”
“You two aren’t seeing the opportunity.” Yíxin stopped taking photos of the Betty Beaver sign. “If they can bring him in, we can lean on him to roll over on his Nazi crew.”
“Ifthe MKPD or Warren County can find him.” Paul slammed the door. “We know where a whole collection of those scumbags are. Let’s focus on bringing them in.”
The first hint that might not be as easy as they had hoped was Lieutenant Pelletier’s unhappy expression. He was waiting for themin a comfortable conference room lined with whiteboards and corkboards, perfect for displaying evidence. After greeting them and meeting Zhào—who, Hadley noticed, used her “Joy” alias—they all took their seats.
Pelletier slid an open laptop toward the lawyer. “You can access our booking photographs here. I understand you’ve got photos of POI; hopefully, you can connect a few dots.”
Paul held up the document bag. “I’ve got Ranger Laduc’s autopsy results here.”
“Plattsburgh faxed us the papers. And I got your voice mail, Officer Knox, confirming Chief Van Alstyne was safe up to this morning.”
Yíxin looked up from the laptop. “Lieutenant, you don’t sound like a man getting ready to apply for a search warrant. Is there a problem? We’ve got first-person testimony connecting several known white supremacists to the militia and an eyewitness to Van Alstyne being held against his will. Plus, an autopsy report that shows Pierre Laduc was shot with a solid-point bullet, which I understand isn’t commonly used for hunting.”
