Page 3 of The Aura Answer
Reuben jogged off, a tall black nerd in a business suit, wearing a topknot and tribal scars. People hurriedly stepped out of his way.
“Is Larraine okay?” Evie demanded in his ear. “Because Mavis is down here talking burning brooms, and you really don’t want her going there. She’s screaming about black clouds forming.”
Shit. Mavis’s black clouds were always an ill-omen, if only because she made them so. “Have her march the brooms up Main Street, away from the courthouse. Larraine is fine, but no one else will be unless we distract the mob.” Jax was making this up on the fly as he jogged back to help Sheriff Troy control the scene.
He was quite positive that Block hadn’t died from corpse assault.
“I like the way your mind works, honey sweetikins. Stay safe and wait for the fire engines.” Evie shouted at someone and cut off.
Evie never called him pet names. She was upset.Fire engines?
He probably shouldn’t encourage Mavis’s rare rages, but he hoped that would divert Evie, at least.
Knowing what Jax had sent Reuben to do, the sheriff scowled, but two deputies and a bailiff were barely enough to threaten news crews into standing back, much less the entire town council, Block’s lawyer, and some powerful supporters. Someone had to look for a shooter, and Rube was trained.
The shouts outside became bellows as the mob crashed through the front doors. The old courthouse only had a few security guards and a metal detector that wouldn’t stop anything but wheelchairs. At least the employee Christmas tree in the hall below was artificial and couldn’t burn.
At the escalating chaos, Troy hurriedly escorted the rest of the council members after Larraine into Judge Satterwhite’s chambers. Jax gestured at the bailiff, and he herded the reporters and bystanders across the hall, toward Judge Rhodes’ courtroom. Rhodes didn’t emerge from his office to object. The TV news crews resisted. Block’s lawyer and a big man in cowboy boots shouted protests. Jax didn’t care.
The deputies taped off the dust-covered bodies. Jax didn’t recognize the tattered corpse and didn’t give Block a second thought once he realized not much of him could be seen. He’d testified against the former mayor but had never known him personally as Sheriff Troy must have. The older man looked grim, but he simply did his job, slamming the courtroom door after the reporters and placing a bailiff in front of it.
Unfortunately, no man could hold back a riot.
Jax stuck in his earbuds and grabbed a roll of yellow police tape. He hit his cell contact for Rube’s security partner, Roark, and started down the stairs with the roll.
Roark answered with a curt, “Where are you and where do I need to be?”
Jax tied tape on the lowest baluster on the first landing. Security still held the mob trapped at the roadblock of the metal detector. They couldn’t see him at this angle. “Reuben in attic. Mayor in judge’s chambers. I’m taping off stairs. Evie should be encouraging Mavis to march down Main Street. What do you see?”
Roark lived with Jax’s sister about a mile out of town, but the beauty of a small town like Afterthought was that anyone could be anywhere in minutes. Communication was key.
“I see flaming brooms,” the Cajun replied in what sounded like awe. “They are actually marchin’ through da middle o’ town withflaming brooms. Dozens of old ladies. A few doddering gents. Couple on motor scooters. They’re swinging the brooms at... Holy shit, they just set someone’s hair on fire!”
Jax groaned. Evie hadn’t been kidding. “As long as they’re in the middle of the street and not breaking into the courthouse, we’re good. This place is a tinderbox. Evie mentioned fire engines?” Jax created a spiderweb of knotted yellow tape at ankle and knee height up the stairs and tied it all off on top. They’d need to cut each and every strand to get past the trap without breaking a few necks.
One of the deputies had grabbed a second roll of tape and was preparing the back stairs the same way.
“Both da sheriff’s cars out front. No more manpower arriving except ladder truck pullin’ in the parking lot on the side. Let me get back to you. I gotta punch this couillon.” Roark’s voice cut off.
“Are you carrying?” Troy shouted over the cries below. He’d brought out one of the news photographers to take the photos his forensics team would have taken had they been able to get inside.
“Ricochet factor, nope. Are the state cops on the way?” Jax entered a courtroom and tugged at one of the antique wooden benches. It weighed a ton but wasn’t bolted down, so he began dragging it into the rotunda.
Troy joined in, and they hauled the barrier to the front stairs. “It could take the state hours to organize, if only out of sheer obstinacy. The governor hates Larraine. We have a few cars coming in from Charleston. I’ve called for fire hoses.”
“Smart move. Mavis is setting hair on fire.”
Troy snorted but didn’t comment on Mavis. He’d known her for a lifetime.
Jax continued as they returned for another bench. “The ladder truck arrived. Can we evacuate people before they bring out the hoses?”
“If they’re not afraid of heights. You got a disguise for Mayor Larraine? Because if that mob sees her...” Troy helped him position the second bench at the back stairs.
Jax understood. Larraine was nearly six feet tall in heels and not exactly a shrinking violet. He punched up Reuben’s number. “Finding anything?”
“Shooter’s gone. There’s a trapdoor exit onto the roof and an old fire escape. Someone’s been living up here. Looks like work is being done on electrical. Floorboards are ripped off. Gaping hole where our corpse must have been sleeping on the insulation between the rafters.”
He’d process that at a later date. “Do you think you can get the mayor down a ladder truck without anyone recognizing her?” Jax positioned the bench across the stairs and looked around for more obstacles.
