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Nicholls scowled. “Well, I’m sure we both appreciate that, but right now we have work to do.”
“When are you going to call a cull?” someone shouted.
Barbara turned in the direction of the voice. “I’m afraid I can’t discuss that, sir. Right now, I’m still collecting evidence.”
“We all know who’s responsible.” A woman at the front. Gray-haired, worn face.
“Well, in that case, you have nothing to worry about, ma’am.” Barbara smiled.
“We could have had their heads ourselves by now,” a thickset man in a trapper hat and overalls muttered.
“I’m sure you don’t mean that literally, sir.”
“Damn vampyr lover!”
This shout came from the back of the group. Barbara tensed. She had been in situations like this before. These weren’t bad people, or at least she hadn’t been given any cause to think so, not yet. But they were angry, and scared and grief-stricken. When all those things rubbed up against each other, like dry tinder, things could ignite. It didn’t take much to turn an unhappy crowd into an angry mob.
“Well…why did no one invite me to this party?”
A ripple ran through the group. A short figure marched down the street, resplendent in a bright crimson snowsuit and matching bobble hat. Rita. She walked up to the front, placing herself between Barbara and Colleen Grey. Then she put her hands on her hips and looked around appraisingly.
“You know, as mayor, I should really be informed about organized gatherings in the town.”
Colleen smiled, but it looked stiff. “The work of God cannot always stick to a schedule.”
Rita nodded. “Well, the work of the police can. So perhaps all you good folks could get back about your business and let these officers get about theirs.” She cast an eye around the crowd. “Maggie Dawson, I need to talk to you about my gutter later. See what sealants you got in stock. And Layton, you still need to renew your hunting license for next year.” She raised an eyebrow. “So, I’m sure we’ve all got plenty to be getting on with.”
There were mumbles and shuffling, and then, slowly, one by one, the crowd began to disperse.
Only Colleen Grey remained. Statuesque and statue still, seemingly unbothered by the interruption. Grace stood a pace or two behind her, eyes downcast, silent. If it wasn’t for the singing, Barbara might have thought she was mute.
“I’m sorry if our gathering has caused a problem, Rita,” Colleen said steadily.
Rita beamed at her. “Not at all, Colleen. I’m always glad to see folk come together. I just don’t want anything holding up the chief and Detective Atkins. Seems to me they’re doing God’s work here too.”
“True.” Colleen turned to Barbara. “I’m sorry if we’ve distracted you. Perhaps you could come and visit the church before you leave. We’d love to have you.”
Barbara nodded but felt less inclined to smile back. “Well, thank you. Maybe I’ll do that, ma’am.”
On a cold day in hell, she couldn’t help thinking.
Colleen turned and walked away, seeming to glide across the mushy snow. Grace followed, a silent, cold shadow.
“Fucking bitch,” Rita muttered.
Barbara shot her a look of surprise. “I got the impression you were friendly.”
“I’d jump into bed with Satan before that one.” Rita narrowed her eyes. “Word to the wise. Keep her on your side but at arm’s length.”
Barbara nodded. “I hear you.”
Rita clapped her hands together. “Good. Now, I’ve got some fresh coffee on to fuel those investigative minds. Shall we?”
“Be rude not to,” Nicholls said.
They walked up to the door of the town hall/police department. Rita unlocked it and stepped inside, followed by Nicholls. Barbara paused at the threshold. She felt a tingle run down her spine. Eyes on her back. We might have evolved to spend more time staring at our phones than our surroundings, but some of those primal instincts stuck around. She glanced behind her.
A figure dressed in black stood about halfway along the street. Too far away to make out more than a white blur beneath the heavy hood, but Barbara was pretty sure from the frame and posture it was a young male. She was also pretty sure he was staring right at her.
