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TROY STOOD NEAR HIS KITCHEN WINDOW, tapping his fingers against his thigh. He’d delayed long enough. Bell should be home by now. He grabbed the container of soup and headed out the door. Tonight would be the seventh evening since Trinity left and his last midnight shift for a month. Although he didn’t like loose ends, he couldn’t wait any longer for Jackson to return with news. The poor kid must have fallen in the river and drowned. The Guard was probably having trouble locating her body. It was sad, but he’d make sure that something good came out of this tragedy. Her disappearance was the key to saving Remy. Once Bell’s reputation was ruined, he would fall out of favor with Benedictine and it would be easy to persuade the other Lead Producers to back Remy for re-pairing.
He shifted the container to his other arm. It was hot. It had to be for his plan to work. He stopped outside the guard shack, taking a deep breath. Once he set this into motion there was no turning back. He opened the door.
“Troy, what are you doing here?” Butch was sitting by the window with the best view of the forest.
He smiled wide. “I’ve brought the soup for Tulip. Tina just finished it this morning.” He handed the container to the other Lead Producer. “It works best when eaten hot.” As far as he knew, it made absolutely no difference. “I can wait here while you take it to her.”
“Thank you. I’ll let Tulip know to reheat it.” Butch walked across the room, placing the pan on the counter.
“Ah, you should probably go now. I know how bad the sickness can get when they’re breeding.” He winked at the other Lead Producer. “It is your fault she’s in this condition.”
Butch’s face reddened all the way to his ears as he moved back to his chair and sat. “She’s stopping by later today, if she’s feeling up to it.”
That wasn’t good enough. He frowned. “And if she’s not, she has to suffer for another day when you have a remedy sitting right here.”
“You know we can’t leave once we’re on duty.” Butch’s face lit up. “Will you take it to her?”
That would not work, but what reason could he give? Telling Butch that he needed him to leave so he could spike Bell’s tea was out of the question. “I would. Really, I would.” Come on think. “But, my leg has been plaguing me with the cold weather. It was a challenge to walk over here after being at work all night.” He rubbed his thigh for effect.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Butch’s face fell.
“The price of age. You get used to the small aches and pains. I’ve heard they get worse.” He grimaced in a joking manner.
Butch nodded, lost in thought.
He gently squeezed the other Lead Producer’s shoulder. “There aren’t many Producers up and about yet this morning. I’m sure Bell is already home and in bed. I’ll sit right here”—he moved his hand to the back of the chair—“and make sure nothing happens.”
“I do live just around the corner. I’d only be gone a few minutes,” said Butch.
“No one would ever have to know.”
“And it’s not like I’d be leaving my area unattended.”
He smiled kindly when he wanted to grin like an idiot. “Exactly. I’ll be right here the entire time. I promise.” And he would, just not in the chair.
Butch nodded and stood, clasping Troy’s arm. “Thank you. I’ll hurry.”
He sat, stretching out his leg and rubbing his thigh again. “Take your time. Well, don’t be gone too long. I do need to go home and sleep.”
“Of course, and thank you again.” Butch grabbed the soup and left.
As soon as the other Lead Producer was out of sight, he walked over to the counter. The new batch of sun tea sat near a window. He glanced outside one more time, just to be sure no one was around, and then pulled his tincture of valerian out of his pocket. He tapped a few drops into the pitcher and then a few more. That was double what he took to sleep but Bell would be drinking this over a long period of time. He added another drop. It was a large pitcher. He tipped the vial again until another few drops fell out. Bell had said that the tea helped to keep him awake. Would that affect the potency of the valerian? He dumped the rest of the tincture into the pitcher. That should do it. Of course, it might kill Bell, but really, who cared? He’d prefer to humiliate and ruin the older Lead Producer but death would work too.
Less than fifteen minutes later, Butch had returned and he was on his way home. It was a beautiful autumn morning with just a hint of crisp in the air. It was perfect sleeping weather which was good because he was exhausted. He’d gotten very little rest the past few days. He’d been too busy planning how to save Remy and ruin Bell, but now, everything was ready. It would all fall into place tonight. It had to. He’d gone over it again and again, covering every conceivable hurdle. He nodded at a Guard as he walked past the crates of produce and then stopped. Jackson stood a few feet away, counting the boxes on a cart. He gritted his teeth and resumed his normal pace. What was Jackson doing here now?
As he passed, Jackson whispered, “We need to talk.”
“Same place as before.” He nodded at another Guard and then strolled to his house. He went inside and leaned against the door. It would be okay. Jackson had probably found Trinity’s remains. He’d tell the Guard to forget about it for now. Tomorrow, after Benedictine was notified of the escape, Jackson could look like a tracking genius by finding the body in record time. He took a deep breath, peeked outside and then left, casually making his way to the west side of the camp.
Jackson stepped out from behind the oak. “I haven’t caught her yet, but she’s still alive.”
“What? How is that possible?” That was the worst news the Guard could have delivered. The leaves in the tree rustled in the slight breeze and a few fell down around him.
Jackson began to pace. “I’m not sure. We picked up her trail again, following her all over the forest, but she keeps disap...”
“Stop. The deal is off.” He’d heard enough and quite frankly, he didn’t care. He couldn’t un-spike Bell’s tea.
“I’ll bring her back.” Jackson’s voice was low, threatening.
“Forget it. It’s too late.”
“Has someone noticed she’s gone?” Jackson whitened a bit.
He paused, letting the Guard sweat. If anyone notified Benedictine that a Producer was missing and Jackson wasn’t where he was supposed to be, the Almighty would punish the Guard, severely, but a dead Guard was no good to him. “No, but they will. Go home and stay there. Tomorrow morning an alarm will be sounded.” A leaf fell on his head and he brushed it aside. The autumn colors were pretty but the shedding of the trees drove him crazy.
“There’s no need to do that,” said Jackson, shaking his head.
He needed Jackson to give up and go home, but he had no intention of forgetting about the Guard’s secret. Jackson didn’t do his job, so he still owed him a favor. However, he didn’t want Jackson showing Benedictine where he’d filled in the hole under his section of the fence. For now, he’d let the Guard think they were squared away. He could always call in the debt later, when the earth was firm. “Don’t bother. You’re safe. I won’t speak of the necklace.”
Jackson eyed him suspiciously and then started to walk away. After a few paces he sighed and turned around. “I wasn’t going to tell you, but I think she may be on her way home. I was able to pick up her scent trail off and on from the Lake of Sins and it’s leading this way. Give her a little more time.”
He’d been mistaken. That was the worst news Jackson could have delivered. She couldn’t return, especially tonight. Bell falling asleep at his post was not enough to ruin the Lead Producer’s reputation.
“You don’t want to involve Benedictine in this if you don’t have to. It won’t go well for anyone,” said Jackson.
He was counting on it not going well for Bell. “It’ll be fine.” And it would. He just needed to make sure Trinity didn’t sneak back into camp tonight and if she did, he’d have to convince her to leave again. It was her or Remy and for him that wasn’t even a choice.
“I don’t think you understand what Benedictine is capable of doing. What’s been done in the past.”
“What are you talking about?” Now, his curiosity was piqued.
“I don’t like you Troy, but take my advice and don’t do anything. If someone actually notices she’s missing then report it, otherwise let it go. Trust me on this.” Jackson turned and headed toward the produce carts.
What was that all about? Later, he’d question the older Producers. They might remember something, but now he needed to get some sleep. His evening was going to be busier than he thought. On top of digging the hole and dragging Trinity’s nightgown across the camp for a scent trail, he had to make sure she didn’t come home.