Tertiary Effects Series | Book 3 | Bite of Frost

by Allen, William

  “I know you want him gone, and I completely agree. We can’t have a security risk like that hanging around. He’s a threat to my wife and kids, and you know how I feel about that.”

  “Yeah,” I replied with a grim chuckle. “I think everybody now knows how you feel when somebody starts taking shots at Nikki.”

  “That’s fair, and I know you are starting to get the same way about Nancy. All I ask is wait until tomorrow and talk to Mike before you confront Charlie. Can you do that?”

  “I can restrain myself that much, Pat.” I replied reassuringly. “I can also promise you, I won’t kill him, not without provocation. If he makes a move on me with hostile intent, well…there’s always more room in the methane digester.”

  “Damn, Bryan, you’ve gotten cold in your old age,” Pat observed, but not with any malice. Just recognition.

  “Haven’t you notice, bro? It’s a cold world these days.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  After we completed our convoy back to our homestead, night had truly fallen, and the temperature fell with the passage of the sun. Wil and Ethan peeled off with their two vehicles, including the confiscated Ford F-250 and trailer, at the driveway for Wade’s house, while Pat and Nikki in Pat’s truck and Nancy and I in the Datsun, pulled around and parked our respective vehicles in the garage. This had proven to be a long day and I admit I was dragging by the time I hauled myself back out into the cold and hit the back door.

  Nancy had been quiet on the drive, and I wasn’t sure if it was from exhaustion or shock. I’d tried to engage her in conversation the whole way back, but other than short, one or two word answers, I wasn’t making much progress. I’d thanked her, twice, for watching our back when we assaulted the highwaymen’s hideout, and she accepted my kind words with a distracted air as she told me I was welcome. Something was up, and until she felt comfortable talking about whatever was bothering her, I resolved to give her the space.

  Letting Nikki and Pat go ahead with Nancy, I paused and checked the thermometer mounted on the door of the mudroom and I saw the number on the digital readout showed 29 degrees Fahrenheit. Another chilly night. We kept the household thermostats set at 62 degrees and made up the difference with heavy sweaters and quilts on the beds. The practice of removing our boots, jackets, magazine carriers and body armor in the mud room meant a good dose of goose bumps before we pulled on those heavy sweaters, since the attached utility room wasn’t tied into the heating systems for the rest of the house.

  “Want to split some more wood tomorrow?” Pat asked as he slipped an old Army sweatshirt over his long-sleeved pullover. We continued to shiver as I removed my heavy belt and threaded my regular belt through the loops and reattached the holstered Springfield to my hip.

  He’d intentional stalled changing so the ladies were done first, thus and leaving us alone for the moment.

  “Can’t,” I replied. “I’m on the calendar for hospital escort duty tomorrow.”

  The weather since the rains slackened remained unseasonably cold, though periodic checks on the solar-powered battery banks remained fairly consistent for cloudy days.

  “Ever think you’d need to do that while sitting at home eating dinner?” Pat asked wryly, gesturing to the pistol.

  “Not in my worst nightmares. But I don’t figure that’s what you stopped me to talk about.”

  “I can tell the thing with Charlie is eating at you.” Pat cautioned. “Just be careful. People around here look to you for stability, Bryan. Don’t let your anger drive them away. Deal with the problem, but do it careful-like is all I’m saying.”

  I drew in a deep breath, and then nodded my understanding. I needed to find a solution, and I didn’t need a hammer to do it, because Charles wasn’t a nail.

  “I know, Pat. Let’s get the whole gang together tonight and talk about it, then tomorrow we can implement whatever plan we come up with.”

  “What do you mean by the whole gang?”

  “Everybody except the kids,” I affirmed. “That includes Sally and Beatrice. Maddy and Cece as well. Are Charles and Mary still down at the Bonner place?”

  “I think so. I know we want to keep all the houses occupied at least during daylight hours. This place will be full to the rafters tonight, but we can cope with that if we use the beds downstairs. We’ll just call and tell them to enjoy the privacy for the night.”

  “Works,” I agreed. “We’ll figure it out, but please understand, we can’t let him stay. He’s done here. You know Mike’s going to want to cap him as well, right?”

  “Pffft,” Pat dismissed. “The one you’ve got to worry about is Marta. She’d shoot his ass at the kitchen table and step over his body to clear the dishes. That woman knows how to hold a grudge.”

  “You ever have to deal with something like this?” I asked after I finished chuckling. “When you were still in the Army?”

  Pat stepped out of his boots and exchanged them for a pair of ratty house shoes that curled up at the toes like elven slippers. I knew they were a Christmas gift a few years ago from Hunter and Rachel, so I always gave him a pass.

  “Yeah. Different time and place, though. Iraqi interpreter in Ramadi,” Pat related, and all trace of humor was gone from his voice. “We caught him passing on notes at a dead drop outside the gate. Our LT sent a report up the chain, but he was the nephew of one of the city councilmen, and we got word to shadow him but not to engage.”

  “What happened?”

  “A week later, we lost half a convoy to an IED ambush,” Pat explained. Even after all this time, the memory was still fresh and jagged. “We were pretty sure he somehow managed to pass a message, because the convoys were always careful to marshal up out of sight of the camp watchers. Kept the MRAPS in a barn, kinda like the one the highwaymen were using. He was the only one outside the command group who could have known the timing and the route.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Well, we did what you want to do with Charles, and passed it off as enemy action. Our LT who’d been in the loop was one of the KIA, and nobody ever asked us lowly enlisted about what happened.”

  “But you don’t want me to take that approach?” I probed.

  “Different time, different place,” Pat repeated. “Don’t worry. We’ll come up with something tonight. That sister of yours is pretty clever, when she uses her powers for good.”

  “Hey, that’s your wife you’re talking about there, buddy,” I joked, and I realized that even with Pat sharing his terrible story, I still felt a little better talking about the problem. I finished getting my inside clothes on and went in the house to see what all was going on.

  I stepped into the kitchen to find controlled chaos, as Beatrice worked on getting dinner ready with the willing assistance of all the kids, including Billy. He looked much more chipper today, as if finally accepting his mom was going to get better. I know losing his dad, Edgar, had left a mark on both him and Sally. Tonight, he was all smiles as he helped Hunter set out the glasses for the dinner table while Lisa, Tamara, and Rachel helped get the stew and fresh bread ready for the first sitting of our meal. Second sitting for dinner would be when Marta and her escorts got home, as well as whoever had been on security watch once they were replaced.

  “Hey, Billy, how are the horses doing?”

  “Doing good,” he replied. “They don’t mind this cold too much, as long as they can go back in their stalls when I get through working them out.”

  “How about you? You like going back to your stall when you’re done?”

  “Ha! I wish. No, sir, I’m good in this cold thanks to those coveralls and heated gloves you gave me. I never seen nothing like those gloves.”

  Since he spent so much time outside, I’d gifted Billy with a pair of battery-heated hunting gloves after the temperature started dropping below freezing even in the daylight hours. They were designed as hunting gloves and adjustable, and the batteries were rechargeable on a little stand I’d set up in the mudroom. We didn
’t have heat in there, but we did have electric service. The low-watt LED lights and the little charging station were just about the only things drawing current in there.

  “Their coats are starting to grow out a little. Is that because of the cold?” Billy asked. We usually didn’t see enough of a real winter for winter coats to be a thing on our livestock, so this was just another sign of an impending bad winter.

  “Yeah, I think so. You need some help getting them curried?”

  “Oh, pick me, pick me!” Hunter cried out, and I found myself smiling despite the day I’d endured. Kids can do that to you. That was one of the reasons I loved my nieces and nephew so much.

  “We’ll see. Need to talk about adding assignments later.”

  “When?” Rachel queried, afraid of getting left out of having fun with the horses.

  “Not tonight,” Nikki scolded, ruffling her son’s hair as she walked by. She’d gone upstairs, taken the world’s quickest shower, and was now wearing her fleece pajamas.

  I watched Nancy over dinner, but whatever was still bothering her didn’t come up in conversation. After dinner, I went into my office, dug out one of the old-style ‘pay as you go’ cell phones I’d picked up at WalMart and made a call to the Sheriff’s Department. I used the non-emergency number and simply reported shots fired at the old Delaney hog farm. Sheriff Bastrop could take it from there.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Early the next morning, I bid Marta and Pat a safe journey as they set out for the hospital before grabbing Mike and Nikki to formulate a plan for dealing with Charles and Mary that didn’t involve a fatal solution. Pat, before turning in the night before, had graciously offered to take my place on escort duty, and I thanked him for giving me the poisoned chalice. He chuckled his way out the door.

  As expected, the house had been packed with the addition of Maddy and Cecelia, but no one complained about the tight conditions. The added bodies made the chill temperature more bearable.

  I asked Nancy if she wanted to come with us to the Bonner place, and I was relieved when she declined my offer.

  As expected, Mike had been nearly apoplectic when he’d arrived home the night before and found out Charles had tried to sell us out. His anger fed mine in a spiral that only Nikki could extinguish.

  “Pull your big boy panties up, children, and let’s get this done. I’m tired and I want to get some sleep. We’ll figure this out in the morning.” Our little sister chastised up like we were two of her kids.

  Now, over cups of herbal tea, the three of us were using my office cum bedroom for our brainstorming session, and the rest of the household, those who knew of the betrayal, had wisely declined to participate. We would thrash something out and then put the plan to a vote. Pat and Marta had given their proxy to their respective spouses.

  Mike, once his anger settled, had the best idea, and a quick phone call to the Sheriff confirmed my brother’s idea as viable. We would need to pick up the appropriate paperwork later, but this plan beat the alternative all to pieces. Well, if the goal was to make sure Charles left the county alive, anyway.

  We geared up like we were heading over to storm the highwaymen’s barn once again, and Mike continued to pump me for details about the fight while Nikki remained quiet. I think hearing the crescendo of gunshots in the barn as we kicked things off, and then seeing her man charge into the middle of the fight, was starting to wear on her nerves once the action was over. Hearing about something and experiencing it were two very different things, after all. Thinking on that subject gave me some ideas about what might be bothering Nancy, but I shelved those thoughts as we drove across the frozen fields between our place and what we still called the Bonner farm. We took Mike’s truck, because even with the windshield spiderwebbed, the seats were still the most comfortable.

  Sally was kind enough to call ahead for us, letting Charles and Mary know that some of us were coming over this morning. She kept it vague, just letting Mary know we had some things to talk about regarding upcoming work assignments. For her part, Sally wanted to go as well, but I talked her into staying behind due to her still-healing wound. I didn’t want her jostling around Mike’s truck until she was cleared for action, but I appreciated the offer for backup and told her so.

  As soon as Mary welcomed us into the house, I think she could sense something was wrong.

  “What’s up, guys?”

  “Uh, hey, Mary,” I stumbled. I really liked Mary. Growing up, Mary’s mom frequently dropped her off with us for free childcare, and Mike and I both spent hours playing dolls with our little cousin. She called us Uncle Bryan and Uncle Mike back then, since we were both more than ten years her senior. Nikki, closer to her in age, was just another playmate for her.

  “Mary, Charles, it has come to our attention that Charles is having some trouble understanding our situation here,” Nikki announced. “He’s said some pretty hurtful things to people, spreading rumors that could have gotten all of us in a lot of trouble if they were believed.”

  “Uh, what?” Mary nearly cried out, and then she turned her attention to her husband, and her volume rose to epic proportions. “Charlie, what have you done!”

  “Honey, I can explain…” Charles Brewer started, but I cut him off.

  “I think you and I need to have a conversation first. In private,” I added the second part in a manner that clearly telegraphed this wasn’t a request. I knew Mike and Nikki would fill Mary in on the pertinent facts while I laid the law for Charles. Mike had wanted to do it at first, but I insisted. My anger, while very real, was a cold thing, while Mike was still burning hot.

  I waved to the back bedroom, where Maddy and Cecelia slept when they stayed here. Would likely stay here again, after Charles was history.

  “I know what you did, but I want to know why you did it,” I said, after closing the door to the back bedroom. Even though Mike and Nikki agreed to let me speak to Charles alone, I could feel their eyes on me as I stomped away down the hall, but they didn’t interfere.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I had a long conversation with Sheriff Bastrop yesterday,” I revealed, no longer feeling the need to conceal the source of our information from this man. “He told me how you tried to implicate my family in Sheriff Landshire’s death, and how you asked for a reward for the information. He also warned me that you accused us of being some kind of terror cell.”

  “You…He couldn’t have told…”

  “I’m a reserve deputy, a sergeant, Charles,” I continued, as if his protestations meant nothing. “He knows we are only trying to protect ourselves and our neighbors. He knows if we hadn’t acted the other day, as concerned citizens, Wade and his family would likely be dead now. He knows about those two young ladies who are hiding out here, worried about being targeted again by men like the late sheriff. My question remains, Charles. Why?”

  “Why? You’re asking me why?” Charles nearly shouted, his anger overriding good sense. “Mary and I are practically prisoners here, stuck out here in the middle of nowhere. There’s work I could be doing back home, if we weren’t confined to this damned shack, cobbling together your little water traps while you play your stupid survivalist games.”

  Charles Brewer’s voice rose as he explained, pacing back and forth along the length of the room, and I could tell he was getting worked up as the veins in his neck began to protrude. He was a big ‘un, eight inches over six feet and heavily built, but I’d never thought of him as a threat until now. The problem was, he was getting my temper up as well.

  “You think we are playing games here? After we had a dozen men creeping up to kill our neighbors just down the lane, and you think that’s a game?”

  “Yeah, like something like that could really happen,” Charles sneered. “That’s just some bullshit you guys made up after Sally got hurt when you idiots were playing Army in the woods. You’re always out there goofing off when the real work is being done. You might have that slut girlfriend of yours foo
led but…”

  “Say it again.” I growled, my voice cold and menacing. “Call her that again. I dare you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Charles Brewer might be angry and frustrated, but the pause, the hesitation, meant he still had some sense of self-preservation. I think he sensed my killing intent at that moment.

  “I promised the sheriff I’d let you walk away from here alive, unless you provoked me. Calling my friend that slur, that’s just about enough to qualify you for a third eye, right in the middle of your forehead. Do you understand?”

  Charles gulped then, nodding his head. He was bigger and no doubt stronger than me, but if we threw down in this tight bedroom, even though he might get some licks in, he just realized he’d brought his fists to a gunfight.

  Reaching into my jacket pocket, I pulled out my cell phone and absently punched in my password, then thumbed the icon for gallery. I’d transferred all the pictures taken at the site behind Wade’s house into one file, as well as the ones taken at the highwaymen’s barn after the dust settled. In normal times, I would never have those photos on me, but I knew they might come in handy as part of our ongoing investigation of the rogue militia group.

  I handed Charles my phone, then cued up the photos. They were like mugshots, except all of the subjects were dead. In some cases, very dead. By that, I mean missing parts of their skulls and similar damage.

  “Those look like Photoshop, Charles? Surely those guys are wearing makeup, right?” I chided him as I flicked over the images.

  Charles gagged after looking at just the first few photos, then turned his head away.

  “That’s sick,” he gasped. “That just goes to show…”

  “That we’re serious,” I interrupted him, overriding his words. “The Sheriff has all these photos, numbnuts. We are working for him. We aren’t some survivalists bent on overthrowing the government. We’re trying to protect the county, and what law enforcement we have here. What the heck else is it we were supposed to do when he asked for our help?”