“And things might have turned out very differently if you weren’t here,” Reyn added.
“Tell us what happens,” Dror requested.
Gary nodded. “We will.”
“Tomorrow,” Reyn promised.
The entire group walked back toward the center of campus, splitting off into different directions once they reached the buildings, and Gary led Reyn, Stacy and Brian to his parking spot and his car. Fifteen minutes later, they were at the police station and being ushered up the stairs to the detectives’ area. Williams was at his desk and on the phone, but there was no sign of Tucker, the other policemen or the two men they’d captured, who were hopefully sitting in some cell right now.
Williams saw them and held up a finger, motioning for them to wait a moment. “Yes,” he said into the phone. “I understand.” There was a pause. “I’ll make sure they do. What’s that number?” He fumbled around on his paper-strewn desk for a pen, then grabbed one of the pieces of paper and wrote something down on it. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll be in touch.”
Williams hung up the phone. “That was Sheriff Stewart, from Bitterweed, Texas. I told him what had happened, told him we have an escaped abductee”—he nodded toward Gary—“as well as three young women—two missing, one a hit-and-run victim—and that we have reason to believe the perpetrators of these crimes are located at the address we were given. I spelled out the details, then described the appearance and behavior of the two men we have in custody, though I couldn’t provide any positive ID because they refused to furnish their names, they had no forms of identification, and we have not yet been able to match their fingerprints with any on file.
“Turns out the sheriff and his department know these guys. They’ve tangled with them before. They’re part of a cult based in Bitterweed, known as the Homesteaders, and they’ve been accused in the past of using terrorist tactics against their enemies, including drugging people and kidnapping them.”
“That’s them!” Gary said excitedly. “We’ve got ’em!”
“Not so fast. None of them have ever been convicted, and there’s a pending harassment suit against the sheriff that’s still making its way through the courts. The sheriff’s department would like nothing better than to nail these bastards, but they’re more than a little gun-shy, as you can imagine, and they’re worried about creating a Waco situation and making these lunatics martyrs to all the wacky fringe groups out there. I laid out everything we have, but they’re walking on eggshells, and as far as they’re concerned, we can’t show probable cause. Right now they’re not even willing to take a request to a judge.”
“We’ll take care of them ourselves,” Brian said. “That was our original plan anyway.”
Gary nodded in agreement.
“Hold your horses. Sheriff Stewart said he can’t authorize any official surveillance, but he’s going to station a discreet lookout at the head of the road leading to the compound—”
“Compound?” Stacy said. “They have a compound?”
“Cults always have a compound,” Reyn told her.
“—and if any of his men happen to see any unusual activity or happen to spot anyone resembling Ms. Daniels or Ms. Madison, he’ll send deputies in, harassment case or not. I gave him a brief description and am going to e-mail over everything we have. I told him our information’s solid, and he knows the importance of finding these young women, so he’s going to do everything he can to help us.”
“I’m still going over there,” Gary said.
Williams nodded. “I thought you might say that. And, frankly, I’m glad. I told Sheriff Stewart that there was every possibility you would not be deterred, and he promised he’d look the other way. No matter what you might try.” The detective paused. “I hate to say this—and I’ll deny I ever did—but it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if you got into trouble somehow and did something that required the sheriff to come to your assistance. If you find Ms. Madison or Ms. Daniels, that is.”
“What about you?” Stacy asked. “This is your case. Aren’t you going to come?”
“No.” Williams looked embarrassed.
“Why not?”
“It’s complicated.”
Gary didn’t care why, didn’t care whether it was lack of money, a jurisdictional problem or something else entirely. Like Brian, he was glad the detectives weren’t coming along. They’d been no help at all up to this point, and the idea of them hogging the glory and claiming success after their mishandling of the investigation into Joan’s disappearance set his teeth on edge. Let the local law enforcement guys in Texas get all the credit. It didn’t matter to him, as long as Joan was free and safe.
Williams copied something onto a yellow Post-it and handed it to Gary. “Here’s the sheriff’s direct number. You can keep in contact with him at all times. If you have any problems, if anything happens that you can’t handle, the sheriff’s men will be there.”
“Thanks,” Gary said.
“All right. Let’s go.” Brian was already walking away from the detective’s desk toward the stairwell.
It was clear that Williams had more to say and that Stacy wanted to stay and listen, but time was wasting, and Gary started after Brian. “Yeah. I need to get moving.”
Reyn and Stacy followed behind them, but Gary didn’t turn to look back until they were on the first floor. It gave him a perverse sense of satisfaction to ignore the police, and his only regret was that Tucker hadn’t been there as well. The other detective would have gotten much angrier, and it would have been great to just blow him off.
Still, he was in an odd position. Despite Stacy’s fears of vigilante justice, Williams and the sheriff in Texas had basically signed off on exactly that, encouraging him to go after Joan on his own, though he had absolutely no idea how. On the one hand, he resented the idea of the police jumping on the bandwagon this late in the game and suddenly getting involved when they’d been completely useless until now. On the other hand, he resented the fact that they were opting out on some technicality and leaving everything to him when he was in way over his head.
Nothing was working out the way it should.
And he was still suspicious of the fact that Ape Arms had provided the address so readily. He and his partner had been sent out here to California to capture Gary again—he was sure of it—and the way they’d practically invited him to go after Joan made him sure that his arrival was expected and that a trap had been set for him.
The uniformed officer at the desk buzzed them out, and they stepped through the security gate and through the lobby. Outside, the air felt cool and good.
“We’re renting a car this time,” Brian announced. “I don’t trust any of your raggedy-ass jalopies. Mine, either, for that matter.”
Gary shook his head. “I can’t. I’m still off the grid. My credit card won’t work.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Brian told him. “I have a MasterCard that I never use. I think there’s a balance of zero on it.”
“When the bill comes in, we’ll split it,” Reyn said. “Three ways. Me, you and Gary.”
“Four ways,” Stacy stated. Reyn turned toward her. “I’m contributing, too,” she said.
“I already said we are.”
“I’m going to.”
“I wasn’t trying to disenfranchise you. I just think of us as one entity, one unit. I figured that would be our contribution.”