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“About half are staying,” Mrs. Tully reported as she shuffled into the common kitchen and handed Bailey a plate of food. “They’re packing up and they’ll be ready to go in the morning. It’s the mothers and their children mostly. Probably a smart move.”
“What time will you leave?” Bailey asked, staring down at the plate of chicken and wishing she had any appetite at all.
“I’m not leaving,” Mrs. Tully asserted, tipping her head back in pride. “Last time I had nowhere else to go, this time there is nowhere else I’d rather be. They don’t scare me.”
“They’re scaring the hell out of me,” Bailey replied. “And King...” she trailed off, still unsure how to process what he’d done.
Moe cleared his throat as he walked up on them. “He just left.”
“King left?” Bailey asked, shocked at her own reaction. He’d betrayed her. Lied. Was just pretending all this time so he could get a job done. Why should she care that he was gone? But obviously, she did.
“I drew him a map to the last camp I knew about out in the mountains. I don’t know if they’re still there but he’s going out to get an idea of what we’re really up against.” Moe stuck his hands in his pockets and looked like was bracing for something.
“Is he crazy?” Bailey shouted. “Why would you make him that map? He can’t just walk in there and think they won’t spot him. They’re mad men. You know James. He’s probably got the entire place set up with boobytraps and trip wires.”
“I warned him about that. King is a capable man and he wasn’t about to be talked out of his plan. I figured the best thing I could do was give him as much information as possible.”
“Well he’s—”
“He shouldn’t have lied to you,” Moe agreed with the thought she couldn’t seem to speak out loud. “I can tell he was conflicted as hell about it.”
Mrs. Tully rested a hand on Bailey’s shoulder. “I think he was trying to help the best way he knew how. And Carmen... she’s the one who helped get you out of here last time. They made sure your father was arrested. I think their intentions for sending King here were probably good.”
“Why are you two taking up for him?” Bailey asked, silently relieved they were doing so. She was still seething with anger, but a small part of her knew they all needed King right now.
Mrs. Tully looked to Moe before answering. “Someone can do something wrong and still be right in the long run. I think that’s the case with King. He obviously cares about you.”
“Enough to go put himself in danger out there,” Moe reminded her. “Enough to out himself as a liar to try to keep people you care about safe.”
Bailey hung her head in her hands. “Are we crazy to stay here?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Tully laughed. “And maybe my faith in King is misplaced and I’ll regret it, but right now I think there is still time for him to make this work.”
“Bailey,” a voice called from over her shoulder.
“Arnoldo?” she asked, turning to see him standing there, fidgeting with the straps of the bag in his hand. “What are you doing here?”
“You invited me, remember?” He looked suddenly self-conscious.
“Of course,” she shot back quickly. “But this is not a great time for a visit. Something has happened and the threat from James and his men is imminent.” She knew she looked wild with worry, but she needed Arnoldo to know how serious this was.
“What happened?” Arnoldo’s bushy unkempt brows furrowed, deepening the line in his forehead.
Mrs. Tully moved in and sighed as she looked him over. “You’ve changed quite a bit.”
“I’m old,” he chuckled, smiling warmly at her. Bailey didn’t know how much the two had interacted in the wake of her father’s arrest by Arnoldo, but their familiarity made her think they’d obviously gotten to know each other.
“Aren’t we all,” Moe said, wincing at the pain in his ribs.
“The heart attack took a lot out of me,” Arnoldo reported to Mrs. Tully, his eyes fixed on her as though Moe and Bailey had ceased to exist. “But I’ve still got some fight left in me.”
“Fight is the operative word at the moment,” Mrs. Tully replied nervously. “They’re coming back. Any time now they’re coming back and taking what they think is theirs. They stole our winter stockpile to show us they mean business and they beat on Moe pretty good.”
“I gave them a run for their money,” Moe reported, tying to straighten up and wincing again.
“Damn,” Arnoldo grumbled. “Something has to be done.”
“Isn’t there anyone you can call now?” Bailey asked, breathless from the anxiety coursing through her. “You said once they did something we could report it.”
