What Befalls the Children: Book 4 in the Troop of Shadows Series, стр. 40
“You gonna interrogate him?”
Willa’s eyebrows lifted at Cricket’s word choice. Maybe he was actually learning a thing or two. “I don’t know. I need to think about it.”
Maybe we should just tell Mama. She’ll know what to do, Harlan signed.
“We can’t tell Mama. She probably wouldn’t even ask him about this stuff. She’d just put him in the cemetery straight away, without due process.”
“What’s due process?”
The dumb-scrunch annoyed her this time, which probably wasn’t fair to Cricket, but she was very worried about the contents of that hiding place and the possible repercussions of exposing them. Mister Fergus was the most interesting person who had ever shown up in the holler.
“Don’t worry about it. Just don’t say anything to anyone until I have time to think about this. Agreed? Do I need to get the blood oath knife out?”
Cricket and Harlan shook their heads.
She reached for one of the silver cartridges, turning it slowly to read the print on all sides.
“I think this is tear gas. See that little graphic? I think that’s what cops throw into a rowdy mob to get them to disperse.”
Harlan nodded, then pointed with a questioning look to the pharmaceutical bottle.
She set the cartridge beside the revolver and reached for the small glass vial filled with clear liquid and topped with a rubber lid. “Midazolam, injection. Can cause paranoid or suicidal i-de-a-tion...there’s a new word...and impair memory, judgment, and coordination. Combining with other substances, particularly alcohol, may slow breathing and possibly lead to death. Wonder what this stuff is for?”
“It’s for sedating pesky children who meddle with other people’s personal property,” a deep voice said from the door.
Three children spun to face a visibly displeased Mister Fergus.
They must have been so distracted with the hidey hole that they hadn’t felt the chilly air waft in. Plus — Willa had noticed this before — Mister Fergus moved as quietly as a mouse. Almost as quietly as Harlan. Most grownups, except for the best game hunters in the village, weren’t so quiet.
“We were looking for Pops,” she said defiantly.
“You think your grandfather could fit in that hole under the board? Is he a shapeshifter?”
Willa couldn’t help but grin. What other grownup would have used a word like that? She decided to come clean.
“Sorry, Mister Fergus. We were bored and decided to investigate you. We wanted to go through your jacket, but since you’re wearing it, we thought we’d toss the cell. Do a shakedown.”
She watched the red beard twitch. Just once. He was undoubtedly displeased, but also a bit amused by her jailhouse terminology.
“Those items are incredibly dangerous. You’re smart children. You should know not to handle such things.”
“What are they doing there, Mister Fergus? You know you’re not allowed to have stuff like that. If Mama found out...”
A crimson eyebrow arched. “But she won’t. Just remember, I may end up in the cemetery, but you could end up grounded to the village until you’re twenty-one.”
He wasn’t wrong. So, mutual blackmail was how this would go down. The notion was intriguing.
“Just explain this stuff and we won’t tell anyone. Right, boys?”
Harlan nodded.
Cricket was in full-blown conflict mode. It was written all over his face. “It don’t seem right not to tell your mama about a gun, Willa. I don’t want to get no one in trouble, but I don’t want to be in trouble with your mama neither.”
Willa smacked her friend’s greasy dark locks. “Snap out of it, Cricket. Just because you’re in love with Mama doesn’t mean you’re going to snitch.”
“It ain’t about that. It’s about doing the right thing. It’s one thing to swipe an extra piece of cornbread. It’s somethin’ else to not tell about a gun.”
Willa narrowed her eyes, ignoring another of Cricket’s goody-two-shoes speeches. “You know what happens to snitches?”
“They get their tongues sliced off and stuffed down their throats in the middle of the night?”
“Correct. Not a word or you’ll be ingesting your own tongue before daylight tomorrow.”
Cricket swallowed hard and nodded.
“Now, Mister Fergus, about this contraband...Wait a minute. Where’s Pops?”
“He’s reporting to Serena Jo.”
Willa noticed the grim expression on the normally cheerful face. Her stomach did a flip. “Reporting about what?”
Mister Fergus looked exhausted all of a sudden. He stepped inside the cabin, shutting the door behind him and lit the stove in the corner. Willa hadn’t noticed she could see her own breath.
“We found another body,” he said. Sudden flames from the kindling danced in the normally merry eyes. Now, those eyes looked tired and sad.
“You mean like Mister Everett?”
A nod of his head.
“Just like Mister Everett? In a tree?” Cricket whispered.
Another nod. “This was closer, though. Only a couple miles to the north. Very close to your cache of goodies.”
“Did anyone find our stuff?”
Mister Fergus gave her a quizzical look. Was there disdain there too?
“Aren’t you interested in who the victim was?”
Willa felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “Yes, of course. I mean, I know it wasn’t Pops because you said he’s with Mama.”
“You’re only concerned about a murder if the victim is someone you love?”
Willa frowned. “No. I’m not saying that.”
“I’m sorry. That was unkind of me. I’m just tired and cranky. I’m also not sure what’s to be done about this...situation. Trying to find the perpetrator is like trying to snare a ghost. There were no tracks to speak of near the...scene.”
She felt a sudden surge of affection for her odd little teacher.
“You don’t have to tiptoe around horror, Mister Fergus. We were in Knoxville when everything collapsed. It was bad. We’ve been living off the land for the three years since. We see hogs slaughtered, deer gutted, rule-breakers put in the stocks...”
The blue eyes flew wide open. “Stocks? As in