segues, "Did you hear what happened last night?"
Gus and Kate shake their heads. Jack tells them about Jackson, still holding on to his wife. Abby stares blankly, all traces of laughter and life, gone. When he finishes, he adds, "Abby knew him. He was there for her when I wasn't. This has been hard on all of us, but it's crushing her."
"Jack," Abby says softly, trying to get him to stop, but he doesn't.
"We stayed here last night, but I think this entire thing is bigger than we thought. I want to take her out of town for a few days. Maybe the cops will have a lead by then. Either way, it'll make sure no one knows where we are. It'll give us some peace of mind." Jack speaks carefully, but he wants them to know what's going on.
They both nod. After a moment Kate says, "Does anyone else have the feeling that this isn't about the tour anymore?" She looks around, her shrewd eyes falling on each face.
They all nod, one by one. It's just a gut feeling. Jack's felt that way since the stabbing. That seems so far off from the normally peaceful protests, but that's what Brimstone does. They take normal people and sweep them into a frenzied mob mentality. They only problem with that is last night. Whoever did that to the car stuck around after the picketers left. Jackson didn't have to drive through them when he arrived. The bus had already pulled out. Something doesn't sit right. This feels personal, but Jack can't fathom what he did to bring it on. The thing is, now that Kate voiced that it seems like something else is going on, it feels more real. Maybe two things are happening at once? Jack doesn't know, but he can tell that every person standing in the room has the same sinking feeling.
Gus crosses his arms over his chest and asks, "Then, what's this about?"
Jack shakes his head. "I don't know. Everything is so intertwined - Brimstone, the protesters, the stabbing in Biloxi - and then again, maybe not. Maybe they all appeared that way by chance." His eyes rake the room, trying to think but nothing makes sense. The busload of people getting hurt was an accident. The stabbing and the car fire could be connected. The brick and the eggs they assumed came from the protesters, but those things aren't the same as physically hurting someone. But still... they could have stemmed from the same source. Without seeing who did it, there's no way to know.
Something doesn't feel right. The hairs on the back of Jack's neck prickle, like something bad is going to happen. Rage rushes through him, barely contained. This has to stop.
At that moment, Cara walks up behind everyone. "Should I open the gallery? I didn't know what you wanted to do today, in light of everything that's going on. There were some tours scheduled for later today." Jack turns and looks at her. Cara is meek and mousy. Her sleek brown hair is tucked behind her ears. She's wearing a coral suit with a slim skirt.
"It's up to you, Gus," Jack replies, looking at his friend. "We're not going to be around for the next few days. Do you think you and Cara can manage it?"
Gus runs his fingers through his sandy hair. "I don't know. My gut reaction is to say 'fuck them' and leave the gallery open, but I don't want to risk all that work right now. What if someone got in here? They could slash all your pieces and get into the studio."
"Can you hire a guard?" Abby asks. Everyone looks at her. "What? It's not weird. Considering how expensive everything is, I'm surprised you don't have one already."
Jack smirks and squeezes Abby tight. "I wanted one. Someone thought it'd be tacky." He glances at Gus, recalling a heated conversation about security a few years back.
Gus holds up his hands, "Fine. You've officially handed me my ass. This warrants a guard. I'll get someone out here. A guy owes me a favor. I'll have an armed guard here while the studio is open, but the guy is wearing a suit, not a uniform."
"Is there anyone who doesn't owe you a favor," Kate says, rolling her eyes. Gus opens his mouth. There's a smirk on his face. He loves fighting with Kate. The two of them lock horns like they're going to kill each other.
"Just do it," Jack says, cutting