Page 76 of At Midnight Comes the Cry
“A combined force of DEC rangers and sheriff’s deputies are going to hit the militia camp today. They’ve got a warrant for a weapons search, but we’ll get Russ out of there.”
“Oh, thank God!” She looked out the diamond-paned window next to her desk. Through the wavy glass, gray skies promised more snow soon. “How are they managing the risk? These are people who fired on an airplane circling overhead. If that’s not trigger-happy, I don’t know what is.”
“Everyone’ll be in protective gear, and they’ve got two snipers embedded, just in case. They’ve had an extensive briefing; the goal is to come in fast and establish communications right away. Let the militia know it’s just a search.”
“And if they start firing anyway?”
“Then they back off, set a perimeter, and call in the staties, because that’ll be a much bigger deal.” His voice gentled. “But, Reverend, you and I both know Russ. If everyone in that camp is focused on keeping our guys out, they won’t be spending time keeping him in. He’ll use that.”
She sighed. “Okay. What’s thebadnews?”
“We haven’t been able to locate Cal March.”
Her wooden chair creaked as she leaned back. “Ugh.”
“Warren County’s checked his house twice. The only friends your gal identified were other suspected militia members, and none of them are home, either. I went to his depot myself. There was one guy working there, said he hadn’t seen March in a couple days.”
“Could he have taken one of his trucks?”
“Maybe. We’ve got an ATL—an attempt to locate—out on his personal vehicle, but I’ll need a separate warrant for his business registrations.”
She stood up. Oscar, curled on his bed, lifted his head to check if they were going anywhere. “Are you keeping an eye on Margy’s place?”
“Wealwayskeep an eye on Mrs. Van Alstyne’s house.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “And on the rectory.” He grew more serious. “You shouldn’t be at St. Alban’s. It’s too open.”
“Christmas is coming at me like a runaway Zamboni, Lyle. I have to be here for a few hours, at least. We’ve got the doors locked, and anyone who needs to come in either already has a key or can call the church office. I’ve also let the wardens—they’re responsible for the physical plant—know what’s going on. If the alarm goes off, they can be at the church in minutes.”
“You’re not going back to the rectory when you’re done, are you?”
“Nope, I’m headed straight for my mother-in-law’s. And yes, she has security alarms, too.”
“Give me a call when you leave and when you get there.”
She grinned. “You sound just like Russ.”
“Who do you think taught him everything he knows?”
She was as good as her word. As she pulled away from the church, she left a message on Lyle’s phone and also let Margy know she was coming back. “Do you need me to pick up anything on my way?”
“No thanks, sweetie, I’m taking Tiny out shopping as soon as you get here, if you don’t mind staying with the babies. The poor girl—your clothes are too tall, and mine are too wide, and she’s been wearing the same panties for three days. We’re going to the Target to set her up.”
Margy’s car was already warming up when Clare pulled into the driveway of her mother-in-law’s pocket-sized Greek Revival. She opened the gate to the fenced-in backyard and Oscar bounded through, happy to spend a half hour or so snuffling around the drifted leaves and peeing on every bush and tree.
The two women were pulling on their parkas when Clare entered the kitchen. “Ethan took a whole bottle and passed out like a python who ate a pig.” Margy picked up her recyclable shopping bags from the table. “He and Rosie are upstairs in the crib.”
“It’s her usual afternoon nap time, too.” Tiny looked toward the stairs. “Are you going to be all right with both of them?”
Clare smiled up from where she was pulling off her boots. “I think I can handle two sleeping babies.”
“This is the first time I’ve been away from her since she was born.”
Margy took her arm. “Then it’s high time. Let’s get going. Clare, we’ll see you later. You’re making dinner, text me and let me know if you need anything.”
Clare was laughing as she went upstairs to change out of her clericals. There were only two rooms tucked under the eaves: one for adult guests and one for the grandchildren, with two twin beds jammed foot-to-foot beneath the window and a crib against the other wall. She peeked in on the babies. Her mother had told her the utter cuteness of sleeping infants was what kept their parents from exposing them on a mountainside, and Clare thought it might be true.
She put on jeans and a sweater and went back downstairs to figureout what she was going to cook. Oscar was barking furiously; the squirrels in Margie’s oak tree must be taunting him again.
She was looking in the pantry when the door opened. “What did you forget?” She turned around.
