“While I still don’t think they’d ever kick you out, it might help to have a plan B. To imagine what you’d do in the worst scenario. So you feel you have some control.”

“I already know what I’d do.”

“And it doesn’t help?”

“Nope. Because I don’t want to do it. It’s just the only option. For me.”

That’s all he says. I’m curious, of course, but I know to keep my distance, too. We sit there, drinking, until he points his bottle at the forest and says, “I’d go there.”

“Live in the forest?”

He tenses, as if he’s assessing my tone. After a moment, he relaxes. “Yeah. There’s nothing for me down south.”

“If it’s because there’d be a learning curve …” I say slowly.

“No, it’s because I’m not interested.”

Maybe that’s partly true, but it’s partly bullshit, too. Dalton has too much ego to deal with the constant sense that he doesn’t fit in. And I’m not sure there is a satisfying life for him down there. He’s thirty years old and runs an entire town. People snap to attention when he enters a room. They respect him and they fear him and they admire him. Down south? He’d be like a dictator in exile.

“You could start a new Rockton,” I say.

He snorts a laugh.

“I’m serious,” I say.

He looks over, lips still twitching, that smile extending to his eyes, warming them to a soft blue-grey. “You gonna help me start a new town, Casey?”

“I don’t know. It would take time, and someone’s only letting me stay six months.”

He laughs at that, and it’s a good sound to hear, a damned good sound, and when he looks at me again, his eyes are sparkling and I feel … I feel things I don’t want to feel, because I know there’s no room in Eric Dalton’s life for that, but I don’t care. I’m not going to do anything about it, so there’s no harm in feeling it.

“Build a new town, huh?” he says. “Sure. No big deal.”

“Are you saying you couldn’t handle it?”

He catches the challenge in my voice, and that smile ignites into a grin.

“You’d need to start small,” I say. “Just take whoever would join you from Rockton and not worry about admitting new people for a few years. It would take at least that long to grow from a camp to a town. That’s how you’d have to begin—as a camp. Preferably in spring, so you have until fall to get the first houses up.”

“You’re fucking serious.”

“I am absolutely fucking serious, Sheriff Dalton. At least fifty people from town would follow you. That includes Will, Beth, and pretty much everyone in essential services. Hell, even I’d go, if someone decided I could stay more than six months.”

He chuckles and shakes his head again.

I twist and lean toward him. “I’m not saying you should do it, Eric. I’m saying you should plan to do it. Work through all the details. Talk to Anders and Beth. They both know the shit the council puts you through. Make a plan. A solid plan. And the council will lose their hold on you because you have a backup, ready to launch.”

He finishes his beer and sets it aside. Then he sits there, rubbing his chin, and I’m certain he’s thinking of how to tell me I’m crazy without kiboshing my enthusiasm.

“Couldn’t be too close to here,” he says. “Fifty, a hundred kilometres away would work. There’s plenty of land …”

Seven

Dalton never says he’s going to follow my advice and devise a solid backup plan. But we do spend the next hour hashing it over, so I know he’ll give it serious consideration.

He also never says anything about extending my six-month stay in Rockton. Was I hinting there? Yes, I was. I hate feeling that if I don’t find a killer, I’ll get my ass booted out before spring thaw. It also makes me feel like Dalton still doesn’t consider me more than a casual acquaintance, someone whose company he enjoys well enough, but if she disappeared tomorrow he wouldn’t miss her all that much. No insult intended, Butler. That’s just how it is.

I don’t dwell on that. There’s plenty more to occupy my mind, starting as soon as we get back to town and see Kenny running for my house. He catches sight of us and jogs over, panting. “Casey? We need you at Diana’s place. Now.”

I take off at a run. Dalton is at my side. He twists to talk to Kenny, only to see the man running five paces behind. An angry wave lights a fire under Kenny, and he catches up.

“Is she okay?” I ask Kenny. “Did something happen?”

“She woke up. Now she’s freaking out. I sent Paul for the doc, and then I had to call two guys in to restrain her, and she clocked one of them and …”

I don’t hear the rest. I kick it into high gear, leaving Kenny and Dalton behind.

As I climb the stairs to Diana’s apartment, Jen blocks my path with “You’d better shut her up. Or I will.” I refrain from hitting her. I may push her aside. She may stagger down a couple of steps. But any injuries sustained are due to Dalton’s “Get out of my fucking way,” which startles her enough that she tumbles down the rest of the stairs. He steps over her. I’m already running into Diana’s apartment, where she’s struggling against two of the militia, shouting, “I want Casey! Where’s Casey?”