Until yesterday, Ben hadn’t known any of the community patrol volunteers, but he’d quickly judged those he deemed most competent, as well as those who could be labeled as little more than warm bodies. This was his military experience, allowing him to size people up and make the most of what they could offer. Sure enough, Ted straightened, and for the first time looked at them.
“Wesley didn’t seem too smart,” he said. “And he was at least halfway drunk, even that early in the day. What I saw was a small bullet hole, low on the bumper. He might not have noticed, or thought it wouldn’t matter since it was just his friends at the meeting. If I hadn’t been looking for evidence by that point I likely wouldn’t have noticed, either.”
Sela silently thanked God that Ben was here, because she wouldn’t have known how to handle Ted. Just then, beneath the table, his hand settled on her thigh. The touch, the gesture, told her without words that for the first time in a very long time, she wasn’t alone. They were a couple, something bigger and greater than any one person could ever be. The sex was great, but this was more than sex. It was connection on a soul deep level, a link she had never expected to understand, much less experience.
She didn’t have to handle the worst of this crisis on her own. She wasn’t alone anymore, and neither was Ben.
There was a lot of bad blood between her and Ted, but this was too important to be affected by her personal dislike. He’d obviously come to the same conclusion. He didn’t have to be here, didn’t have to share what he knew, and that meant he was a bigger, better person than she’d expected.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I know you didn’t have to come to us.”
Ted still didn’t look directly at her, but he nodded in acknowledgment. “They’ve planned a meeting for tomorrow afternoon, at a vacant building that used to be a craft store of some kind. Near the pizza place. Do I go? Do I stay away?” He shook his head. “I don’t know what to do.”
“That’s all right,” Ben said, his gaze going savage. “I do.”
They sat around the table with sheets of paper and a couple of pencils. Between Sela, Leigh, and Mike, they could locate the homes of each of the six men, which were spread out but tended to be on the Townsend side of the valley. They drew rudimentary maps, listed the family members they knew of—Mike and Leigh were more useful for that than Sela was, because her natural shyness had kept her from getting to know as many people as they did. Ted was a help; he’d learned a lot on the community patrols. Ben had a natural aptitude for learning his environment and studying it strategically; before the solar storm he’d driven and hiked a large portion of the valley. He didn’t know people, but he knew the territory.
“We can’t hit their houses,” he said, sitting back and tapping a pencil on a page. “We don’t know how many kids are in each house, or where they’d be.” These men had no care for life and would fight back, regardless of their families being present. Ben didn’t want anyone shooting into houses where kids were; he didn’t have qualms about the adults, but these kids already had hard lives because of who and what their parents were. Meth addicts—and Mike was certain all of these men were tied to the meth trade—lived for nothing but their next hit, and nothing meant anything to them beyond that next hit. If other people died because of their addiction, they didn’t care.
Mike and Ted both nodded in agreement.
“If they all show up for the meeting at the craft store, that’ll be our best chance, and will minimize any collateral damage.”
“They should be there,” Ted said. “According to Lawrence’s plan, anyway.”
Ben gave a brief nod. “A central meet is more efficient than someone going from house to house, telling everyone what’s going on.”
Mike and Ted were relatively clueless on the craft store, other than knowing kind of where it was, but Leigh had often bought things there and was able to sketch the floor layout, doors, windows, parking lot, and any buildings or tree stands nearby.
Ben’s plan was simple, and even then he expected things to go sideways; they almost always did when guns and people were involved. Mike and Leigh were tasked with visiting chosen patrol members and reading them in on the plan. Ted was to stay far away from any of the other patrol members, so they wouldn’t be suspicious of him. Myra Road was out of the way, a small neighborhood with hills and curves, and limited sight lines; the chances were small that he’d have been spotted unless someone had followed him, and he’d have noticed another vehicle on the road behind him because there was no traffic. Despite people having some gasoline now they were still in conservation mode, and driving around wasn’t nearly as important as having fuel for generators.
With the plan in place, Ben and Sela walked back to her house. The day had warmed to the point that only thin patches of snow were left, and by afternoon there would be none. “I need to go to my house, get some things,” he said. “Want to come along?”
“Yes,” she replied, no hesitation. Wherever he was, she wanted to be. “I need to check on Carol, though.”
“We can stop on the way.” He glanced down at her. “Think I should put on body armor?”
“A chastity belt might keep her from grabbing your goodies.” She smiled, because she loved Carol’s boisterous personality. There was no telling what name she’d come up with for Ben today, but he hadn’t blinked at Stud Muffin so she thought he could handle any other name thrown his way.
“I’ll keep you between us. You can be my guard.” He patted her butt as they went up the steps to her deck, and the familiar gesture didn’t just warm her heart, it melted her insides.
Surprisingly, Carol was on good behavior. She beamed at them. Barb told them about Meredith Parsons being a PTA, and helping Carol with some exercises. Carol also winked at Ben and gave him two thumbs-up, and left them to wonder exactly what she was approving of: the physical therapy, his buns, or the fact that he was with Sela.
Ben’s big pickup handled the narrow mountain road without any problem, and the high suspension allowed him to drive right over the big rock in the middle of the driveway that stopped most people. She was astonished that it had been just two days since she’d walked up this steep drive, both terrified and determined.
The house was cold when they went in, but of course he hadn’t been here in about thirty-six hours so the fire had gone out. He stopped just inside the door and looked around; intuitively she knew he was thinking about the dog, missing its presence. He’d done a good thing for the Livingstons, giving the dog to them, but at a cost to himself. He didn’t say anything about it, though, just efficiently got a fire going in the woodstove. His house wasn’t as cold as hers would have been after that length of time without a fire, making her think he’d added to the insulation.
There was a small fireplace in his bedroom, and she wouldn’t be surprised if the other bedrooms also had fireplaces. If she remembered correctly, Carol had once mentioned that this house had been a small bed-and-breakfast, which meant bedroom fireplaces were likely. He lit the fire in his bedroom, and also lit a kerosene heater to help warm the house faster.