Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1 (6 page)

He grabbed his plate and strode to the table
occupied by ranch guys at the back. John’s table had two couples,
the mayor and his wife and an older, refined gentleman who looked
how John imagined all plastic surgeons did. Sixty, but with the
skin of a forty-five year old, and silver streaks in his hair so
precise they could have been dyed that way. His wife had blond
curls, perfect nails, and her nose looked like it was out of a
magazine.

John gave the guy a chin lift, evidently
surprising him enough he had to clear his throat with a drink of
water.

The mayor waved again. “Sheriff, this is our
doctor, Stephen Fenton and his lovely wife, Harriet.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“They also serve as our emergency personnel,
doing the job of paramedics when someone isn’t able to make it to
the medical center.”

The doctor smiled like it was an Olympic
sport. The wife quit her hushed conversation with the mayor’s wife
to do the same.

The doctor squeezed his wife’s hand. “Harriet
is my nurse.”

“That’s right.” She smiled. “We love working
together. It’s been great for our relationship.”

John smiled. Perhaps that’s what he and Ellen
had needed at the time their marriage was in crisis—for both of
them to get put in WITSEC, thereby forcing them to co-exist
civilly. Not that there weren’t couples in the program who’d gotten
divorced under their new identities and been placed separately.
Maybe they had a lawyer or a judge in Sanctuary, even if there was
no court to uphold the law. But if neither party could leave town
unless they left the program, did they simply move to opposite ends
of the street? There had to be some discord, if people were forever
running into their exes at community dinners.

“Well, I’m up.” The mayor pushed his chair
back and approached the podium, leaning down to the microphone.
“Check, check. Is this thing on?”

The microphone hummed to a screech and
everyone in the room winced. Olympia emerged from the kitchen and
stood with her hands in the pockets of her apron.

The mayor cleared his throat. “Thank you all
for coming. We’re here tonight to welcome our newest resident.
Sheriff John Mason will be taking over from Sheriff Chandler. We
should have an update on the latest on Chandler’s condition after
he has surgery on Monday. John Mason has brought his son, Patrick,
who goes by Pat.” He shot John’s son a smile and Pat swung his feet
back and forth under the table. “Please join me in welcoming
them.”

The room swelled with applause. John looked
around, seeing tables of similar faces—families—alongside tables of
co-workers like the ranch guys. There was even a table of what
looked like aging bikers. A small amount of young people and kids
were spread around the room. All of them seemed to co-exist in a
place John felt for the first time maybe he could be at home
in.

“Next up on our agenda—”

The door opened. A slender, dark haired woman
in jeans and a brown jacket stepped inside. She looked around, saw
everyone’s attention was on her and ducked to the side of the
door.

“As I was saying,” the mayor continued.
“Tonight’s movie will begin in one hour after cleanup. Those of you
on the schedule will need to stay behind to help pull down the
tables and set up chairs.”

John kept his eyes on the woman. Something
about her made him want to stare. He couldn’t make out her features
from this distance. The mayor’s reaction had been
interesting—disapproving. But of the disruption or the woman
herself?

The safe in the sheriff’s office contained
the WITSEC file for every person in this room. It would take John
forever to read through them all. But he supposed he needed to that
if he was going to know these people, what they were capable of and
what they’d endured. Several of the faces were familiar, in a
general sort of way. There was a guy across the room with a table
of men in military haircuts who John thought might be the former
chief of staff of the army.

Given what the town was established for, he’d
expected to see more household names. But maybe the government had
them change their looks when they went into the program. He’d have
to find out who still needed to testify and learn how that worked.
Find out who had been here longest, so he could pick their brain
for how to do this job in a way which made everyone in town’s lives
as safe as they could be.

The previous sheriff might have upheld the
law with a light touch, mostly leaving people to get on with their
lives. On the other hand, he might not have tolerated even the
slightest infraction. He’d have to ask Palmer. His deputy was
sitting with a table of people who all had his red coloring—an
older couple and two younger boys. John didn’t want to interrupt
his family time.

“Battle Night will commence at eight p.m. on
Saturday. If you’re not part of the proceedings you are advised to
stay in your homes after dark in order to avoid becoming a
casualty.”

The mayor was frowning at his paper. “Guns
can be collected from the radio station after noon tomorrow and are
to be returned after the operation is concluded. If you are under
eighteen, you must have a signed permission slip on your person at
all times and wear the appropriate colors.”

John leaned in the Betty’s direction. “What’s
this?”

Her lip curled. “Paintball. But the Major
General organizes everyone into teams and claims it’s all about
strategy and mounting assault versus defense.” She shook her head.
“It’s just an excuse to run around like hooligans if you ask
me.”

Judging by the looks on the faces of more
than a few people, “Battle Night” was something to look forward to.
Being cooped up like this probably got old. The chance to blow off
steam, even with paintball of all things, could be seriously
fun.

The mayor continued, “Safe zones are the barn
at the ranch and the marked area at the farm. But Dan says if you
mess with the crops you’re disqualified and banned from
participating for a whole year. Teams will meet at their respective
zones at seventeen-thirty.” He moved the paper to the back of his
stack, displaying precisely how he felt about “Battle Night.”

Pat pulled on John’s sleeve. “Can I go to
that?”

“Let me find out more, first. Okay?”

Pat nodded but slumped lower in his seat.
John looked around again. The woman was still there, leaning
against the back wall with her hands in the pockets of her coat.
Her hair was swept over one shoulder, covering the side of her
face.

The mayor continued to make announcements
about a raccoon getting into someone’s trash, and a church that met
Sundays in the Meeting House. Probably that was a good way for John
to meet people and be sociable outside of the times he was around
town in uniform. People needed to get to know him as a man and a
father as well as their new sheriff.

“Father Wilson, would you like to come and
pray over us?”

A grizzled man stood. He had a minister’s
collar on his black shirt and walked with soft steps to the podium,
even though his craggy face said
gangster
. He held the sides
of the podium with both hands. The ranch guys all removed their
hats and all around the room people bowed their heads.

The minister bowed his head and spoke in a
voice that sounded like he had laryngitis. He thanked the Good Lord
for food and fellowship and asked Him to watch over the town and
keep each one of them safe. He prayed for Sheriff Chandler’s health
and that John and Pat would feel welcome. At the end he tacked on
an addendum that the B team would be victorious.

The room erupted into cheers on one side and
a chorus of “boo” on the other. Everyone laughed. The minister
looked up a gap-toothed grin on his face. “Amen!”

Most of the people in the room yelled back,
“Amen!” But there was a lot of, “No way!” and “Not gonna
happen!”

People got up, dispersing with their plates
to where Olympia stood beside a trash can and a cart of basins, one
full of soapy water and one empty.

Matthias clapped him on the back. “Did you
meet my Momma?”

“Olympia?”

He nodded and motioned to the three Hispanic
women behind him. Two were tall and slender and one was younger and
plump. But all of them were beautiful. “These are my sisters, Maria
who is married to Tom. They have two kids. And this is Antonia and
Sofia. They run the nursery and organize all the landscaping in
town.”

John shook their hands.

“That’s my brother, Diego.”

The young man Matthias pointed to stood with
the table of ranch guys but waved at him. Diego’s features differed
from Matthias, his coloring darker whereas Matthias seemed to favor
his mother.

Matthias must have seen John’s frown since he
added, “Takes after the Puerto Rican side of the family. Mama is
Greek.”

Olympia wandered over.

John included her in his smile. “You have a
beautiful family.”

“They’re a handful, every one of them.”

“Mama!” Plump Sofia’s hands shot to her
hips.

John laughed at the gleam in Olympia’s eyes.
They might drive her crazy but she loved each one. He looked
around, searching for Pat. He was at the back of the room in
conversation with the lone woman who’d entered late. She’d crouched
to Pat’s level and nodded at something he said.

“Excuse me.” John made his way over and put
his hand on Pat’s shoulder. “Hello.”

The woman looked up and his breath caught.
Her eyes were dark almost black and the same shade as her long,
straight hair. “Sheriff. I’m Andra.”

“Andra?”

“Yeah, Dad. Like Alexandra, but without the
Alex part.”

She shot Pat a smile. “I should be
going.”

“Somewhere to be?”

Her smile dimmed. “Yeah, home. And it’s a
decent walk so I should head out before it gets too dark.”

John nodded. He didn’t make a point to argue
with a woman if he could help it and she seemed pretty determined
to leave. Though, run away was probably a more accurate
description.

“It was nice to meet you.” She kept her eyes
on Pat and then turned to the door.

John looked at his son. “How’d you get all
the way over here?”

Pat shrugged. “She didn’t have anyone to talk
to, so I came over to say hi.”

“That was nice of you.” John squeezed his
shoulder. “What’s she like?”

“I think she’s lonely. Don’t you think
so?”

“Could be. We’ll have to find out.”

“There’s no need to worry about Ms. Caleri,
Sheriff.”

He turned back and saw the doctor, one arm
around his wife.

“Caleri?”

Harriet swallowed like there was a bad taste
in her mouth. “Andra Caleri. She keeps to herself and in return no
one bothers her. Except when she shows up at the medical center and
yells at me for no reason whatsoever.”

“Is there something about her I should know?”
John could look it up in Andra’s file but it was better to get
people’s opinions. That said more about someone than a report
did.

“Just give her a wide berth as much as you
can. That’s what we do.”

The doctor nodded. “It’s best that way. I’ve
heard she’s not very sociable. People who show up at her house on
accident don’t have anything good to say about the experience.”

How did you show up at someone’s house by
accident?

The question must have shown up on John’s
face because the doctor said, “She lives outside of town, up in the
mountains some but no one knows precisely where.”

Harriet nodded. “Some people think she’s
lived by herself for so long it’s affected her mental state. If you
know what I mean.”

Right. She seemed sane enough to John, but
how did you tell? “Well, I appreciate the heads-up.”

“Goodnight, Sheriff.” They swept out the door
as a single unit.

“Why were they mean about Andra? She’s
nice.”

John looked down at Pat. “I’m not really
sure. Maybe Andra doesn’t get on well with some of the people in
town. Or maybe she just likes her privacy.”

“Like when you go in a stall because you
don’t want to stand by everyone else at the urinal?”

John laughed. “That is exactly what privacy
means.”

“But Andra’s a girl.”

“Girl privacy is probably different, but she
could still want that.” John ruffled Pat’s hair until the kid
shifted his head from under his hand. “Let’s go see about the
sleeping arrangements, yeah? It’s been a long day.”

“Can’t we stay for the movie?”

“Not tonight. It’s late and we still need to
unpack.”

They stepped outside, waving to those who
called goodnight to them. John took Pat’s hand and they walked
across the street. To the right of the Meeting House the doctor and
his wife stood together, both looking up the street. A quarter mile
up where the street ended, Andra walked along with a flashlight in
one hand lighting her way as she stepped off the road toward the
trees.

A second later, she was gone.

Just after nine the next morning John stood
in the sheriff’s office with his second cup of coffee. He stared at
the map of the town tacked to the wall. Sanctuary was shaped like a
wrapped piece of candy. The buildings and houses in the middle were
an oval and the sides fanned out—the ranch on one side and the farm
on the other.

He stepped closer and looked in the direction
he’d seen Andra walk last night. The map showed nothing but trees,
although a broken line delineated a path running from that corner
of the town up into the foothills. It was possible a structure had
been built but never added to the map. The previous sheriff must
have known something, but John couldn’t exactly call him and
ask.

The bell over the door rang and Deputy Palmer
strode in. “You’re up. I figured you’d be getting settled.”

“Just getting a feel for the place.” He
didn’t intend on working his first day. But there was a lot to this
job he felt didn’t have much to do with office hours or procedure.
Too much of it was human interaction and dealing with people
co-existing alongside one another. He needed to do that in a way it
would last.