Even if he escaped and disappeared, he could be letting his friends in for a world of hurt. After strenuous “questioning” by cops like Melvin and Junior, they might consider the Dome the least of their problems. Big Jim was in the saddle now, and once guys like him were in it, they tended to ride hard. Sometimes until the horse collapsed beneath them.
He fell into a thin and troubled sleep. He dreamed of the blonde in the old Ford pickemup. He dreamed that she stopped for him and they got out of Chester’s Mill just in time. She was unbuttoning her blouse to display the cups of a lacy lavender bra when a voice said: “Hey there, fuckstick. Wakey-wakey.”
22
Jackie Wettington spent the night at the Everett house, and although the kids were quiet and the guest- room bed was comfortable, she lay awake. By four o’clock that morning, she had decided what needed to be done. She understood the risks; she also understood that she couldn’t rest with Barbie in a cell under the Police Department. If she herself had been capable of stepping up and organizing some sort of resistance—or just a serious investigation of the murders—she thought she would have started already. She knew herself too well, however, to even entertain the thought. She’d been good enough at what she did in Guam and Germany—rousting drunk troops out of bars, chasing AWOLs, and cleaning up after car crashes on the base was what it mostly came down to—but what was happening in Chester’s Mill was far beyond a master sergeant’s pay grade. Or the only full- time female street officer working with a bunch of small-town men who called her Officer Bazooms behind her back. They thought she didn’t know this, but she did. And right now a little junior high school–level sexism was the least of her worries. This had to end, and Dale Barbara was the man the President of the United States had picked to end it. Even the pleasure of the Commander in Chief wasn’t the most important part. The first rule was you didn’t leave your guys behind. That was sacred, the Fabled Automatic.
It had to begin with letting Barbie know he wasn’t alone. Then he could plan his own actions accordingly.
When Linda came downstairs in her nightgown at five o’clock, first light had begun to seep in through the windows, revealing trees and bushes that were perfectly still. Not a breath of breeze was stirring.
“I need a Tupperware,” Jackie said. “A bowl. It should be small, and it needs to be opaque. Do you have anything like that?”
“Sure, but why?”
“Because we’re going to take Dale Barbara his breakfast,” Jackie said. “Cereal. And we’re going to put a note in the bottom of it.”
“What are you talking about? Jackie, I can’t do that. I’ve got kids.”
“I know. But I can’t do it alone, because they won’t let me go down there on my own. Maybe if I was a man, but not equipped with these.” She indicated her breasts. “I need you.”
“What kind of note?”
“I’m going to break him out tomorrow night,” Jackie said, more calmly than she felt. “During the big town meeting. I won’t need you for that part—”
“You won’t
“Keep your voice down. I’m thinking maybe Romeo Burpee—assuming I can convince him Barbie didn’t kill Brenda. We’ll wear balaclavas or something, so we can’t be identified. No one will be surprised; everyone in this town already thinks he has cohorts.”
“You’re insane!”
“No. There’ll be nothing but a skeleton crew at the PD during the meeting—three, four guys. Maybe only a couple. I’m sure of it.”
“
“But tomorrow night’s a long way away. He has to string them along at least that far. Now get me that bowl.”
“Jackie, I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.” It was Rusty, standing in the doorway and looking relatively enormous in a pair of gym shorts and a New England Patriots tee-shirt. “It’s time to start taking risks, kids or no kids. We’re on our own here, and this has got to stop.”
Linda looked at him for a moment, biting her lip. Then she bent to one of the lower cabinets. “The Tupperware’s down here.”
23
When they came into the police station, the duty desk was unmanned—Freddy Denton had gone home to catch some sleep—but half a dozen of the younger officers were sitting around, drinking coffee and talking, high enough on excitement to get up at an hour few of them had experienced in a conscious state for a long time. Among them Jackie saw two of the multitudinous Killian brothers, a smalltown biker chick and Dipper’s habitue named Lauren Conree, and Carter Thibodeau. The others she couldn’t name, but she recognized two as chronic truants from high school who had also been in on various minor drug and MV violations. The new “officers”—the newest of the new—weren’t wearing uniforms, but had swatches of blue cloth tied around their upper arms.
All but one were wearing guns.
“What are you two doing up so early?” Thibodeau asked, strolling over. “I got an excuse—ran out of pain pills.”
The others guffawed like trolls.
“Brought breakfast for Barbara,” Jackie said. She was afraid to look at Linda, afraid of what expression she might see on Linda’s face.
Thibodeau peered into the bowl. “No milk?”
“He doesn’t need milk,” Jackie said, and spit into the bowl of Special K. “I’ll wet it down for him.”
A cheer went up from the others. Several clapped.
Jackie and Linda got as far as the stairs before Thibodeau said, “Gimme that.”
For a moment Jackie froze. She saw herself flinging the bowl at him, then taking to her heels. What stopped her was a simple fact: they had nowhere to run. Even if they made it out of the station, they’d be collared before they could get past the War Memorial.
Linda took the Tupperware bowl from Jackie’s hands and held it out. Thibodeau peered into it. Then, instead of investigating the cereal for hidden treats, he spat into it himself.
“My contribution,” he said.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” the Conree girl said. She was a rangy redhead with a model’s body and acne-ravaged cheeks. Her voice was a little foggy, because she had one finger rammed up her nose to the second knuckle. “I got sumpin, too.” Her finger emerged with a large booger riding the end of it. Ms. Conree deposited it on top of the cereal, to more applause and someone’s cry of
“Every box of cereal s’posed to have a toy surprise in it,” she said, smiling vacantly. She dropped her hand to the butt of the.45 she was wearing. Thin as she was, Jackie thought the recoil would probably blow her right off her feet if she ever had occasion to fire it.
“All set,” Thibodeau said. “I’ll keep you company.”
“Good,” Jackie said, and when she thought of how close she’d come to just putting the note in her pocket and trying to hand it to Barbie, she felt cold. All at once the risk they were taking seemed insane… but it was too late now. “Stay back by the stairs, though. And Linda, you keep behind me. We take no chances.”
She thought he might argue that, but he didn’t.
