In the Woods by Merry Jones Page A

couldn’t get angry. Emotions got in the way of leadership. He had to remain calm and rational. Had to think.
    â€˜Okay,’ he said. ‘So what’s done is done. They won’t be able to trace it to Josh if we all stick together and insist we know nothing. But for sure, Josh is going to have to answer for bringing the gas company people, the state cops and probably CNN and the fucking
New York Times
—’
    â€˜What the fuck are you talking about? Nobody even knows about it.’
    â€˜Everybody knows, Hiram. For sure everybody at the pipeline and the gas company – the dead guy worked for them. He was a pipeline walker.’
    â€˜But what does he have to do with what I’m saying?’
    The chief closed his mouth. Dread snaked up from his belly. ‘You’re not talking about Al Rogers, the pipeline walker who got shot?’
    â€˜Did I say anything about a guy who got shot? I said Josh
took
someone.’
    Oh. Took? As in kidnapped? The chief rubbed his eyes again. Fatigue washed over him. ‘Why?’
    â€˜How should I know? Does Josh need a reason? Maybe the guy saw him prancing in his costume. Anyhow, he’s got him at the compound.’
    Of course he did. So they would all be considered accomplices. The chief pursed his lips. ‘So that’s it?’
    Hiram let out a breath. ‘Not exactly. There’s one more thing.’
    When he got off the phone, the chief took out a bottle of Old Grand-dad, poured a quantity into what was left of his coffee, and sat at the kitchen table, drinking, trying to lower his blood pressure. The whiskey burned his chest, reminded him of the war. Iraq. He’d led soldiers there, too, making order out of confusion. Keeping his people alive. He’d do the same here.
    Number one. Something had exploded out by the old hunting lodge. One of the locals might have set something off. Then again, there were old septic tanks out there. Maybe methane gas had built up and blown. But even if none of his people had done it, others would come in droves to investigate an explosion so close to the pipeline. The pipeline people, of course. And government and environmental groups looking for weaknesses or damage or pollution. Swarms of them. Damn. It needed to be addressed.
    Number two. Mavis. She had her contingent ready for all-out war. He had to settle her down. Would have to invest some private time and personal attention. He’d get on it.
    Number three. The dead gas company worker. Hiram had found out nothing about who’d shot him. So the shooter might not be one of the Hunt Club members, might just be an accident. In which case, the investigation would pass quickly. All he needed was to make everyone wait it out.
    But Number Four was a problem. Fucking Josh. He was out of control. For months, he’d flitted around the park, scaring people, and that was trouble enough. But now, he’d taken a living person. Kidnapped someone. And that would bring cops, the FBI, who knew who else. And that wasn’t all.
    Because the final thing Hiram had told him on the phone was that Josh had found another dead body. Not the gas company guy – another one. Josh had claimed he’d stumbled over it while he’d been out testing his new legs and scaring campers, before he’d even taken his prisoner. Hiram hadn’t seen the body; all Hiram had seen was a driver’s license, belonging to Philip Russo.
    The chief poured more Grand-dad and drank. He had the urge to find Josh and smash in his skull. Had the damned moron killed Philip Russo? And the gas guy, too? He’d known for years that Josh was psycho. As a teenager, he’d been caught not just hunting small animals, but torturing them. Peeling their skin off, tearing them apart while they were still alive. Saying that he was studying their anatomy. Christ. Even then, he’d been twisted. Probably he had no clue what havoc he was causing – what outside