“No,” says Dean. “We counted close to forty.”
“Shit,” someone swears.
Leon taps a pen against his lips. “We still need more people.”
“Don’t you think you’re maybe rushing things? I mean, those guys were creepy as fuck,” says Jodi. “Guess I’m still trying to get my head around everything that happened yesterday. But did you actually see any women being abused at this camp?”
“Not any live ones.” Dean’s dark brows draw tight together. “They brought out a body and put it in the back of a pickup. Just dumped her down the road.”
Jodi’s face is white as can be, and I don’t blame her.
Trisha clears her throat. “Could you tell how…”
“She’d been beaten,” says Dean. “It was hard to tell much from the damage, but she seemed young. I doubt she was older than twenty. We wanted to bury her, but…”
I place my palm on his jean-clad thigh, and he covers it with his hand. That he had to see such a thing. My heart hurts for him.
“And he has forty people who want to do this sort of shit,” I say. “I never really believed so many people hated women.”
Reema sighs. “They’re pitiful, small, insecure assholes who only feel tall when their boot is on someone’s neck or when vile deeds are being done to another.”
“They need killing,” says Naomi.
Dean’s gaze is cold and hard. “Yes, they do.”
And no one disagrees.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MONDAY
Dean meant it about gluing himself to me. No hyperbole. None at all. I may believe his claims of not stalking me back in Portland, but he’s sure as fuck making up for it now. Seeing the murdered woman yesterday can’t help but have affected him. And me almost getting shot in the head is obviously not a soothing thought for him. He just needs some time.
I have the children after the meeting. The plan is to get the strawberry and blueberry plants from yesterday into the ground. But first we hit up the library for some fresh reading material. I need to learn about chickens and goats. While the children search for more interesting and varied topics, such as sharks and castles.
“There’s a moat around half of the town,” Hazel tells me.
Bowie nods. “We just need to figure out how to put sharks in it.”
“I like this idea,” says Dean.
“They won’t be able to make us take baths in the cold water if there are sharks in there,” adds Bowie.
Dean thinks it over and nods. “Very true.”
The children have nominated their pack animal for the day. Dean’s job is to carry the market bag, into which goes all of their books, along with anything else they find of interest. Nurse Sophie tries to take a book on bullet wounds, all the better to care for me in my time of need. But given the graphic nature of the photos, we talk her out of that one. Thank goodness. My head is not amazing. However, painkillers are keeping it under control.
This is about the time when Sophie remembers the contents of her pockets. We’re sitting outside on the courthouse steps. Yesterday’s clouds have cleared to a perfect blue sky. Good weather for sitting outside and getting into some trail mix.
“Are you going to eat all of the candy out of mine?” asks Dean with a frown.
I nod. “Yes.”
He grunts.
“I almost forgot. We found these,” says Sophie, spilling out shining rings onto the step between us. “Natalia had some at her house, and I told Leon what we were doing and he took us around to a few places.”
“Whoa,” I say. “Those are real. How big is that diamond?”
