I have cleared a peephole into their psyches, and I see something far too uncomfortably close to a mirror, at least in their past selves. Idealistic, impulsive, reckless, overconfident, convinced that they’re doing the right thing … and making a horrible, tragic mess of it.
Edwin is right. If the past leaders considered him a serious threat, they’d never have allowed him to retreat into the forest. They set him up to be the leader there, because they trusted he’d learned a lesson and also that he hadn’t intended for his “revolution” to leave bodies in its wake.
“Is Émilie right?” I ask after a moment of awkward silence. “Did the settlers want to take over Rockton?”
Edwin sighs. Felicity pulls out the chair, and he sinks into it.
“That is the problem with supporting a group you are not part of,” Edwin says. “You aren’t privy to its secrets. When I arrived in Rockton, it was during a time of rising political idealism, especially among the young. I’m certain you can’t see it now, but I was right in there, supporting causes and championing the underdog. We wanted to save people, particularly those less fortunate than ourselves.”
Émilie makes a face. “Our hearts were in the right place, but there was a definite air of privilege. Taking it upon ourselves to save the downtrodden, whether they wanted our help or not.”
Edwin nods. “We wanted to help the settlers. Three of us, plus a couple of the other younger residents. We argued for open trade. That’s what
the settlers said they wanted: the ability to trade with Rockton. It seemed obvious to us that Rockton should allow it.”
“But Rockton’s leaders had a touch of savior complex themselves,” Émilie says. “Living in the forest was wrong, and if they could force the settlers back to Rockton by refusing trade, then that was for their own good.”
“The settlers disagreed,” I say. “And when they had the chance—and the guns—they decided trade wasn’t enough. They wanted the town. The infrastructure. The supplies. The plane.”
“Some of them did,” Edwin says. “Yet even those who supported the leader were appalled by the murders. They turned the perpetrators over as part of the negotiations. What happened to them after that…” He shrugs.
“They were sent home,” Émilie says firmly. “In later times, a harsher justice might have prevailed, but those in charge of Rockton back then were not killers.”
“Back then?” I say.
“Those in charge have never been sociopaths, Casey,” she says, meeting my gaze. “I think you and Eric know that, or you would never allow anyone to be sent south for their crimes. That would make you complicit in their deaths.”
Phil looks over sharply. “Did you honestly believe—?”
“They worried,” Émilie cuts in.
I turn to Edwin. “You said you came with information. To impart it, not to demand it, correct? You wanted to tell me something useful. Give it to me now. Then you will go home and wait while I solve this damned problem.”
TWENTY
“I think we both know Edwin is physically incapable of sharing his information and walking away,” Émilie says. “The man is not a giver. Unless you have guns. He’ll be quick to give those away.”
“That is beneath you, Émilie,” Edwin says, the formality returning to his voice.
“Nothing is beneath me. Especially when it’s true. That’s the deal then, Edwin. You tell Casey what you came to tell her, and then you leave and trust her to update you once the crime is solved.”
“Or?”
She looks him in the eye. “The terms of your banishment stated that if you ever set foot in Rockton, you would be shipped home. I suppose you thought no one was left to remember that.”
“Hostiles murdered a group of tourists,” he says. “That was vital information that Casey failed to impart.”
I turn to Felicity. “Is that true?”
Her look warns me against putting her on the spot, but I’m only making a point here, and Edwin gets it with the tightening of his lips.
I turn back to him. “Felicity was here when the woman found us. She knew what we suspected—that she’d been attacked by hostiles. Your granddaughter would not have failed to convey that to you. We presumed you’d take the threat seriously, though I’m not sure what difference it would make, since your settlement is already on high alert.”
I allow a two-second pause. Then I say, “There were three other deaths. Settlers. We discovered them yesterday and haven’t had a chance to alert you.”
“The hostiles murdered seven—”
“The settlers weren’t killed by hostiles. Someone just wanted it to look that way.”