Page 92 of Bound in Ashes

I clenched my teeth, trying to keep my temper in check, but I knew Christopher was playing games. He could have said that before, but instead he wasted our time with his aw-shucks routine.

“Let’s go. He’s at the sheriff’s office,” Christopher said.

Asia slid a glance at me, and some of the tension in my gut loosened. She wasn’t enjoying this any more than I was.

“Is there some kind of meeting?” Asia asked.

The people were assembled outside of the Sheriff’s Department, more than there had been yesterday. A quick estimate told me 250, maybe 300 people were there.

“Well, since… everything, Dad says it’s important that everyone stay in touch, keep on top of things, so we sometimes gather.”

“Okay?” Asia said.

“Christopher,” Hayes said from somewhere in the crowd, “why don’t you bring them over here?”

I didn’t wait for Christopher’s direction. Instead, I walked toward the voice.

The crowd was quiet, and that was alarming. Made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I reached for my waistband, realizing that I didn’t have the shotgun. Not that it would have done me much good here, not with numbers like this, but still. I felt a fleeting regret at my empty hands.

Asia stood next to me, posture erect, nothing about her giving her emotions away.

Good.

We approached, and the sheriff was there, flanked by his deputies.

“I hope you have again enjoyed this town’s hospitality, Asia,” Sheriff Hayes said.

“Thank you, Sheriff Hayes,” Asia said. A fuck you if I had ever heard one, and she followed it up with a soft smile. One that I knew was total bullshit.

If Hayes noticed, he didn’t care or was too preoccupied.

“Before you folks head out, I wanted you to stay for the town meeting,” he said.

“Why?” I asked.

“You’re part of this community, so it’s important you understand how things work here,” Hayes said.

I noticed Asia was close to me, and glanced at her, seeing that her expression was still stoic, but I still felt the tension rising.

“Bring her out,” Hayes said.

I didn’t know who he was talking to, but looked toward the door of the sheriff’s department, which opened.

One of his deputies, still wearing his long sleeve button-down brown shirt even though the temperature was close to eighty degrees this early in the morning, approached.

Next to him was the girl from yesterday.

“What are you⁠—”

I reached for Asia’s hand, squeezing it.

“Just wait one second, please, Asia. Got some business to handle.”

“I’m sorry, Sheriff,” the girl said.

Her face was red, splotchy, crusted with dry tears.