Tyler says, “Right. Okay. We have several cases that seem separate right now. The rash of kidnappings in the area might be related to Lansky’s abduction of the Norrises and the woman from the bar that Ben rescued. I think we can safely assume that the bank robbers and the man who kidnapped Liam McDonald.” She looks over at me. “Liam’s the boy you and the Rigbys found in the trunk.” She continues, “Those four men exploded all at the same time through unknown means. That has to be related.” She paused to look around the room.

There are some nods but no one says anything.

“That’s three then so far,” says Tyler. “The exploded, the Norrises, and the spate of kidnappings. The Wild Specters make four.” She looks over at Abernathy.

The sheriff sighs and says, “All the rescued are from out of state and they weren't abducted here either. Amin’s got pretty clear records of these evil assholes' trafficking operations. They use long-haul truck drivers, some don’t even know what they’ve got in their trailers, to move people around the country. Most of their other crimes are local. Some drug and weapons dealing. Some blackmail and computer fraud. Nothing suggests that they are related to the other three cases. Not yet.”

Torelli says, “The weapons.”

Everybody looks at him.

Smythe says, “The records of weapons sales are particularly troubling. Automatic weapons, machine guns, even a Precision Shoulder-fired Rocket Launcher-1.”

I say, “A what now?”

“US equivalent to a rocket-propelled grenade launcher,” says Tyler. “An RPG.”

“Shit.”

Smythe says, “The customer’s names are all in code but the PSRL-1 and a bunch of the other more powerful weapons all went to the same place but we don't know where. Could be here.”

“Do we know where they got them from?” asks Tyler.

Smythe nods. “One of the officers at the arsenal at Ravenna got catfished and blackmailed.” She looks up at the clock the sheriff’s hung on the wall above his office door. “He should be in our custody by now. I don’t expect he’ll know much.”

Abernathy says, “Never know. At any rate, Amin’s information dump will put paid to the Wild Specters once we find them all. Maybe if we can get one of the bikers to talk we can start decoding their customer files and get a little further, but they aren't known for rolling over. Once we’ve got some room, I’ll set up the conference room as our joint command center, complete with murder boards for each case and all the trimmings we can manage here at the county level. In the meantime, let's get back to it.”

I want to speak up then, but everybody stands and I decide to talk to Agent Tyler. I touch her arm as she turns to go. “Agent Tyler? You know, I could try to do something. Maybe, I dunno, throw a dart at a map or something?” I say.

The sheriff goes to his window. It looks out to the rear of the building into their parking lot. He calls to somebody out there and asks them to clear a space for the kids to play in.

She nods at me. “I’ve been thinking about that,” she says. “It's an idea but I’m worried that if we go looking for trouble we might find it. The bikers, for example, are probably not related to what I’ve been sent here to do. You did a great thing, don’t get me wrong, and if there are other people here in trouble I want to help them, but we’ve got two problems if we do that. First and foremost, there’s a difference between tackling every awful thing going on in and around town and trying to deal with it all at once. You might lead us to three or four new cases that’ll only spread us thin and make us rush. Mistakes will be made. People might get hurt. Secondly, this is police work. We have to find and collect evidence, interview people, and build a case. That can be frustratingly slow, yes, but it helps us put the bad guys away and keep them there as well as protect the innocent, right? Throwing a dart at a map, even if it’s you doing it, is not an established method of finding probable cause.”

It makes sense but now I feel like a third wheel. “So, what do you want me to do?” I say.

Tyler looks down at me, her face very stern. “I want you to listen very carefully, Ben,” she says. “Because this is very important. I’m about to give you your first order as an employee of the FBI and you absolutely will follow it and you will not argue.”

I look over at Alex, who’s smirking, dammit.

“You’ve gotten one good night’s sleep in four days,” says Tyler. “I have a feeling you’re not entirely yourself and you need to get your head right. Find your feet. So, you’re going to go get some lunch. You’re going to go home. Maybe buy some things for your new living space. Go shopping. Get some clothes. Watch some TV. Rest. Ochoa and I will think about the best way you can help us in the meantime and we’ll meet up tomorrow, okay? Okay.”

I shrug. She’s got a point.

Alex says, “I’ll give him a ride.”

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“Thank you, counselor,” says Agent Tyler and she leaves the sheriff’s office to go do FBI things without me.

The sheriff is puttering around his desk, shuffling papers, and not looking at me. I give him a jaunty wave he either doesn't see or ignores and then Alex and I head out.

When we open the door to go it causes a bit of a breeze from the window the sheriff’s left open. I don’t blame him, it’s nice outside, but it blows a couple of papers off his desk and I get a whiff of his cologne or deodorant or something. Smells like masculine bread somehow. Or maybe the kids' food is arriving.

Sure enough, when we get into the hall there are a couple of delivery guys from Ma Barker’s, neither one of which is the one I met earlier, and there are many happy cheers as Dr. Linn and some of the police officers help distribute the food. Despite everything, it makes me feel pretty good about my life choices lately.

“How’s your sister?” I ask once we're in the car.

“Candace?” says Alex. “Much better. She’s staying with us right now. We’re looking for a therapist. Do you know how difficult that is? Everybody’s booked solid. That can’t be a good thing.”

“Maybe it is,” I say. “Hell, the way things are I should probably find one myself. I’m glad she’s feeling better.”

“‘Better’ as in ‘not trying to actively kill herself,’” says Alex. “I swear, the minute I find Craig might be the last one where I’ll be able to practice law ever again.”

“Can’t find him?”

“He’s not answering his phone,” says Alex. “Hasn’t been by the house that we can tell. We keep trying. What do you want for lunch?”

“I’m keeping you from your clients,” I say. “How about you just take me through a drive-thru and I’ll eat at home.”

“You are a client, Ben. I get paid for this. Well. You’re not keeping me from anything.”

He takes me to a fast food place anyway and I spring for lunch.

I eat it at my rented place in the cul-de-sac, thinking about what Tyler said.

I don’t know if I want to decorate the place. I have no idea how long I’ll be here and I’m not much of an interior designer or whatever anyway. The place is empty. Quiet.

Okay, what do I need? Groceries. Clothes. Toothbrush and toiletries. The place has those little travel-sized things but I’ll need my own, of course. I can have all that delivered.

What else?

Well, I keep getting into trouble. I’ve been in fights and robberies and God knows what I’ll get into tomorrow. I need to be able to defend myself. Yeah, I know I took out the bank robbers with my library card, but that was in a highly chaotic moment in a place with a lot of people making conflicting choices. In other words, yeah, I had to push pretty hard but the conditions in the bank helped me do it. If some psychopath came at me with a knife right now, here, where I’m alone at the ass end of this idyllic cul-de-sac where the light and dark possibilities barely flicker, I don’t know how I’d do.

I can talk to Tyler and Ochoa about learning some self-defense stuff. Hand-to-hand, weapons training, and I don’t know what else, which all seems like a good idea, but I need something now. Because, for me, a psychopath breaking into my house to stab me in all my most important organs in alphabetical order doesn’t seem as far-fetched as it would have a week ago.

I need ways to increase the disorder in any given situation so that I can push easier and have a better chance at winning a fight. So, what would do that? Probably nothing conventional.

Any kind of gun’s out. I don’t know how to use one. I’ve never really liked them. Plus, they’ve got all those moving parts. Probably not a good idea for me. Maybe a revolver? Eventually? They’re simpler, right? Don’t jam or have a much less likely chance to do so. I dunno. I think I remember that from a movie or something. See? I don’t know guns. That’s a question for the FBI agents. I'll take their advice, I guess. What's the use of having access to experts if you don't seek and listen to their advice?

So, what? A bow and arrow? I took archery lessons in gym class years ago and I could always practice to get better, but they’re bulky and impractical. Hmm. If I miss though, there’s the arrow lying around on the ground. They don’t roll well but if somebody steps on it….

Fuck, I’d probably get more mileage from a bag of marbles! Dump one of those out and all the bad guys could be down in seconds.

Ball bearings would be better. They’d be easier to throw. They're heavier, would hurt more, and they come in different sizes.

Wait. Throw?

I open up the shopping app on my phone. I buy a hunting slingshot with the highest ratings and then, after considering all the random shit that can happen to me now, I buy two more. All of them come with their ammo which looks like little ball bearings. All three models I bought have multiple replaceable bands with various-sized pouches. For ammunition I can get steel, plastic, or lead. The latter is what's recommended for hunting. I’m not sure I can kill a person with one of these but I am sure I don’t want to. The idea here is to provide a painful deterrent and add a little entropy rolling around underfoot. After a little research and some instructional videos, I figure steel is better for practice anyhow because the lead can lose its shape if it hits something hard enough. The plastic ones are inaccurate and wouldn't help me much. I buy the big steel ones.

While I'm looking around, I’m surprised to learn that they make darts for slingshots too. You have to get bands designed for them that instead of a pouch is a short little bowstring type thingy and there’s a hook near the tip of the dart that you use to pull it back and fire it. I buy some of those, both with sharp tips and blunt ones.

I buy a few bags of hard rubber bouncy balls too. I almost buy some racquetballs but they wouldn’t work. Not for the slingshot anyway, they’re too big for the pouch.

I put in the shopping cart a bunch of leather pouches I can string on a belt to keep it all in.

Four sets of throwing knives with nine blades in each seem like a good idea while I'm at it. The sets are identical and come with a nylon sheath for all nine that I can strap onto my arm or leg. The blades are black, about as long as my middle finger, and have a large ring at the other end. My thinking is that I’d rather keep an enemy at range, but if I have to do something up close, well, it’s still a knife.

That purchase leads me to a telescoping baton that goes from about six inches to two feet long, which is cool, and then I find an even bigger one that looks like the pommel, grip, and hilt of a sword. It goes from a bit less than a foot out to three feet. I figure why not and buy both of them?

I think that might do it for now.

I pay a bit extra for it all to have it shipped out to me by tomorrow.

I do the same for two weeks’ worth of clothes and some basic amenities. I’m tempted to go out and rent a car but I decide not to. I have a bunch of groceries delivered and put them away. I don't want to go anywhere.

But then I can’t think of anything else to do.

I sit there thinking for a long time.

After that, I go to bed.