I cut him short. The point is that Garcia hasn’t gotten hold of a gun. He’s just escaped, and he’s running. Which means I don’t need to know how this happened—I just need to bring him back.
I’m taking off when I spot Dalton running toward us.
“Garcia’s gone,” I say. “He bolted. Will’s giving chase.”
“Along with a few of the guys,” Sam says.
“Is your leg hurt?” Dalton cuts in.
“It’s fine. I—”
“It’s hurt, and you can’t run. So get your ass to the station. We’ll talk later.” He turns to me, Sam already dismissed. “I’m going after Garcia. You stay here. Town meeting. Now.”
“Do I get to use my bell?”
He gives a strained smile. “You do.” He leans down for a peck on the cheek and then looks around. “You!”
The only person in his sight line is Mathias, casually walking his wolf-dog cub toward the forest, as if nothing is happening. When Mathias doesn’t turn, Dalton booms, “Atelier! I’m talking to you!”
Mathias looks at us. “Me?”
“Get your ass over here.”
“Raoul needs to relieve him—”
“Do you want to keep that mutt?”
Mathias scoops up the cub and comes over.
“Town meeting,” Dalton says to Mathias. “Go door-to-door. Tell people to get their asses into the square now.”
I brace for Mathias to make some crack about not being the town crier. He only nods. Before he can leave, another figure comes around the corner, moving fast.
“Sheriff,” Phil calls. “Whatever is going on here, I should have been notified—”
“Yeah, that’s not how your job works. Go with Mathias. He’ll tell you what to do.”
Dalton starts leaving. Phil grabs his arm—the bad one—and Dalton wheels. Mathias pulls Phil away.
“Do you see that look?” Mathias says. “It is not the sheriff’s this-is-negotiable look. Or his I-wish-to-chat-about-it look.” Mathias purses his lips. “To be honest, he does not have either, so it is safest to … I believe the English would be: shut up and do as he says.”
Dalton strides off.
“Detective—” Phil begins.
“Here,” Mathias cuts in. “You may hold Raoul as you follow me.”
He extends the cub.
Phil falls back. “That’s the rabid—”
“Not rabid. Not dangerous.” Mathias smiles, showing his teeth. “Not yet.”
Mathias hefts the cub under his arm as he leads Phil away. “Do you know what we wish for most in this town? A council representative with an iota of competence. A mere iota. Is there any possibility we might find that with you, Philip? The early signs are not promising.”
I shake my head and jog off to ring the bell.
* * *