Shadow of Doubt (Sanctuary, #3) - Abbie Zanders Page 0,1
serving his country, and now, he—they were trying to turn the charred remains of his legacy into a place where returning vets could adjust and acclimate back into civilian life. It was a good thing that they were doing, but there were some in the nearby town of Sumneyville who would prefer they did it somewhere else.
From what Mad Dog knew of Chief Freed, he’d twist the facts surrounding yesterday’s “incident” and use them as proof that they were a dangerous lot. They were but only to those who posed a threat to them or to those they cared about.
“Not everyone is against you, you know,” Sam said, entering the room. Like Church, she’d grown up in the area. “There’s plenty of local support, too. They’re just quieter about it. Daryl Freed and his brother-in-law are bullies. Even worse, they’re bullies in positions of power. People know if they speak up, the police and fire departments might not be as quick to respond if and when needed.”
Doc shook his head. “That’s not right.”
“No, it’s not,” Sam agreed, “but it is the way small-town politics work. Now, enough about them. It’s Christmas, and a special holiday feast awaits in the dining room.”
She didn’t have to tell them twice. Delicious aromas had been drifting out of the kitchen all morning, making their mouths water and their stomachs grumble.
Church nodded. “You heard the woman. Let’s eat.”
~ * ~
Two weeks later, Sam’s words about local support were still going through Mad Dog’s head as he drove down into Sumneyville. He wanted to believe she was right. That there were those in town who supported what they were doing. Sandy had backed her up on that, citing the staff at Franco’s—the restaurant they’d frequented often—as an example.
That might have been true initially, but he wasn’t sure that was still the case. Sam and Sandy were locals, but they were now out of the townie loop. Sam had been staying at Sanctuary for months, and with the kitchen and dining room now open, the guys weren’t heading to Franco’s much anymore.
Now that Sandy was staying with them, too, they no longer had an inside source at the township office. They didn’t know what kind of bullshit Daryl Freed was spreading around. Even before Dwayne’s ill-fated plan, Daryl and his posse had been putting an entirely different—and entirely false—spin on things.
Personally, he didn’t give a rat’s ass if Freed liked them or not. However, if there was one thing he’d learned in his time on the teams, it was that local support—or lack of it—could have a huge impact on the success of any mission.
Church was being curiously reticent about the whole thing. His strategy was to keep a low profile and take the higher road, not to engage the local instigators in a public debate. “People will believe what they want to believe,” he’d said, “whether or not it’s true.”
Something told Mad Dog he was talking about more than just the recent run-ins. And while he understood and respected Church’s position, he was not one hundred percent in agreement with it. Yes, there were always malcontents who would oppose them, no matter what, but there were probably a lot more who weren’t ready to stock up on torches and pitchforks just yet. It didn’t seem fair to them or to the silent majority if they were only hearing one side of the story, especially if the source of that info was someone who was clearly biased.
That was why he was taking it upon himself to do some casual recon while on a supply run. The way the people responded to his presence in town could be an indication of overall public sentiment toward them and their mission.
As he wound his way down the curvy mountain road, the conditions improved. The latest storm had dumped a few inches of snow around, the higher elevations getting more than the valley. By the time he reached Sumneyville, blacktop was even visible in spots.
He pulled into the parking lot of Handelmann’s Hardware with the plan of picking up rock salt, ice melt, and some additional shovels. The place wasn’t too busy. The customers who were there eyed him with interest as he made his way up and down the aisles, picking up things that weren’t on his list but could prove useful. Their interest was wary and curious but not openly hostile. He took that as a good sign.