Page 67 of Peace Under Fire

He’d run her off to avoid his perpetually dark world from infecting her sunny one. To keep her innocence and sweetness intact. Yet he’d corroded her life anyway.

She didn’t say a word as she looked around her room, just gave the space one long last look and turned, walking back out.

Why that hurt so much, he didn’t know. But it didn’t hurt nearly as much as when she sidestepped his attempt to comfort her.

That stung like road rash.

Crusher joined them as they checked out the last of the bedrooms and followed them down the hall to a laundry room with industrial sized washers and dryers, two of each. A storage area full of obsolete computer parts came next, followed by three full bathrooms. It was odd to see the bathrooms all clustered together like this. Usually, bathrooms were dispersed throughout a house. But he was even more surprised that the bedrooms themselves didn’t have attached bathrooms. From what Mandy had said before, the women didn’t lack money.

“Only three bathrooms for the ten of you?” he asked, as they left the last bathroom with its counter clutter of facial cleansers and creams and toothbrushes.

He didn’t think she was going to answer. When she finally did, her voice was so empty, it would have hurt less if she hadn’t said anything at all.

“We talked about doing a major renovation, about adding bathrooms to the bedrooms and a gym, so we wouldn’t have to walk across the compound to the workout room in the garage during the winter.” She shrugged without looking at him. “But we decided it was too dangerous. We’d have had to hire contractors—construction workers, plumbers, flooring people. And ten women sharing a place like this? That would be noteworthy, even gossip-worthy. We couldn’t chance it, so we didn’t do it.”

There was something besides emptiness in her explanation now. Resentment, or maybe even anger. He puzzled over that as they walked down the hall.

Grumpy and Billy were dual bookends guarding the aft door, almost indistinguishable from a distance, what with their dark clothing and similar builds. Billy’s scruffy beard, and long hair separated him from Grumpy as Squish drew closer. The other two men, Ajax and Fabio, were against the wall awaiting their orders to move on.

Grumpy straightened, eyebrows raised. Squish knew what he was silently asking. Did you guys find anything? Squish shook his head. Grumpy’s chin dipped and his NVD lenses locked on the sketch book Mandy held clasped to her chest. “What you got there?”

Mandy ignored the question, probably because she didn’t want to deal with the disbelief and suspicion her answer would bring.

“We found her sister’s sketch book,” Squish said.

Grumpy took that to mean she was carrying it because it had sentimental value. He turned to Crusher, who had stationed himself beside the last bathroom. “Nothing left to check out in here. We might as well head to the next building.”

Crusher nodded and waited for Billy to slip past Squish. They backtracked through the living complex, exiting in the same formation they’d entered. The air was an icy slap against his exposed cheeks and chin as they moved across the silent, snowy landscape toward the next building. Squish scanned the snow to the right and left of him. No footprints out here either. If someone was lurking in one of the two buildings up ahead, they hadn’t ventured out since the last snowfall.

The next building was drastically smaller, more like a shed. Crusher stopped when they reached the corner.

“What’s this used for?” Crusher asked, his NVD’s locked on Mandy.

“Garden tools,” she said.

The concrete walls didn’t have nearly as many holes, but then the bastards who’d attacked the compound hadn’t needed as much gas. The building was small enough that a single canister would have knocked out anyone hiding inside. They followed the same protocol they’d used earlier and waited outside against the wall for Crusher’s all clear. Like the building they’d just left, the door to the tool shed was hanging from partially busted hinges. This time, Crusher and his sweep team returned within seconds.

With a dour shake of his head, Crusher addressed them. “Try not to breathe. The air’s toxic in there.”

That tracked. The place was much smaller with fewer holes for ventilation. They’d barely stepped into the room when Squish’s throat started to itch. They made a quick circuit of the space. Garden tools hung in neat rows along the walls. A wood counter with dozens of drawers and cupboards ran the entire length of the west wall. A weedwhacker was braced in the corner. The place was bare, open, everything easy to see. He turned to leave.

“Wait—” Mandy said, her voice scratchy. She broke off on a shallow cough. “The pitchfork is missing.” She motioned to an empty slot on the wall.

Good to know. They could discuss it outside in the fresh air. He grabbed her elbow and hauled her out the door.

“You’re certain it’s missing?” Crusher must have been listening from the open door. “Maybe it got left outside and it’s buried beneath the snow.”

“No way.” Mandy choked the words out, her voice raspy and raw. “Jayla is religious about taking care of her garden tools. She’d never leave it outside.”

“Someone else could have used it,” Billy offered. “Someone not as careful with other folk’s tools.” There was a sour note in the dude’s voice, as though he was thinking of someone specific.

Mandy was already shaking her head. “The garden’s Jayla’s baby. Everyone knows better than to touch it. And nobody else would need the pitchfork.”

Quiet fell while everyone thought about that.

“If you’re strapped for a weapon, a pitchfork would make a good one,” Squish said.

Although who the hell would need such a rustic defense? The men who’d grabbed the women had carried guns. JoAnn? Doubtful. If Mandy’s claims were true, the woman had the almighty gift of killing with a touch. A pitchfork would be much less effective.

---