Читать книгу In Silence - Erica Spindler, Erica Spindler - Страница 14

The Gavel called the meeting to order. All six of his generals were in attendance. Ready to do battle. To lay down their lives for their beliefs and their community.

Each believed himself a patriot at war.

He surveyed the group, proud of them, of his selections. They represented both the old and new guard of Cypress Springs. Wisdom invigorated by youth. Youth tempered by the wisdom of experience. A difficult combination to beat.

“Good evening,” he said. “As always, I appreciate the sacrifice each of you made to be here tonight.”

Because of the nature of the group, because some would not understand their motives—even those who stood to benefit most from their efforts, indeed, their sacrifice—they met in secret and under cover of late night. Even their families didn’t know the location or true nature of these meetings.

“I have bad news,” he told the group. “I have reason to believe Elaine St. Claire has contacted a Cypress Springs citizen.”

A murmur went around the table. One of his generals spoke. “How certain are you of this?”

“Quite. I saw the letter myself.”

“This is bad,” another said. “If she’s brazen enough to contact someone in Cypress Springs, she very well might contact the authorities.”

“I plan to take care of it.”

“How? Isn’t she living in New Orleans?”

“She can destroy us,” another interjected. “To leave Cypress Springs is to lose the safety of our number.”

The Gavel shook his head, saddened. New Orleans had been the perfect place for her. Sin city. Anything went.

But, it seemed, she hadn’t been able to help herself. No doubt, the passing months had dimmed her fear, had lessened the immediacy of the danger. It was human nature, he acknowledged. He hadn’t been surprised.

He was beginning to doubt the effectiveness of the warning system they had devised. Warnings rarely worked. Or only proved a short-term deterrent.

“She’s in St. Francisville now,” he said.

“Better,” a general murmured. “We have friends there.”

“We won’t need them,” the Gavel said. “I’ve planned a trap. A carefully executed trap.”

“Lure her back to Cypress Springs,” General Blue said. “Once here, she’s ours.”

“Exactly.” He gazed from one face to another around the table. “Are we in agreement, shall I set the trap?”

The generals didn’t hesitate. They had learned nothing good came with lack of conviction. Weakness opened the door to destruction.

The Gavel nodded. “Consider it done. Next? Any concerns?”

Blue spoke again. “A newcomer to Cypress Springs. An outsider. She’s asking questions about The Seven. About our history.”

The Gavel frowned. He’d heard, too. Outsiders always posed serious threats. They didn’t understand what The Seven were fighting for. How seriously they took their convictions. Invariably, they had to be dealt with quickly and mercilessly.

Outsiders with knowledge of The Seven posed an even more significant danger.

Damn the original group, he thought. They’d been weak. They hadn’t concealed their actions well. They hadn’t been willing to take whatever measures were required, no matter the consequences to life or limb.

Too touchy-feely, the Gavel thought, lips twisting into a sneer. They’d bowed to internal fighting and the squeamishness of a few members. Bowed to a member who threatened to go to the American Civil Liberties Union and the Feds. And to any and all of those prissy-assed whiners who were sending this country to hell in a handbasket.

It made him sick to think about it. What about the rights of decent, law-abiding folks to have a safe, morally clean place to live?

That’s where he and his generals differed from the original group. The Gavel had chosen his men carefully. Had chosen men as strong-willed as he. Men whose commitment to the cause mirrored his own in steadfastness and zeal.

He was willing to die for the cause.

He was willing to kill for it.

“The outsider,” the Gavel asked, “anyone have a name yet?”

No one did. A general called Wings offered that she had just moved into The Guesthouse.

The Gavel nodded. Her name would be easy to secure. One call and they would have it.

“Let’s keep an eye on this one,” he advised. “She doesn’t make a move we don’t know about. If she becomes more of a risk, we take the next step.”

He turned to Hawk, his most trusted general. The man inclined his head in the barest of a nod. The Gavel smiled. Hawk understood; he agreed. If necessary, they would take care of this outsider the way they’d taken care of the last.

Determination flowing through him, he adjourned the meeting.