The Territory A Novel - By Tricia Fields Page 0,31

the Gunners’ policy manual. I couldn’t find a provision for what would happen if the president died,” Otto said.

“Or was killed,” Fallow said.

Otto nodded. “Correct. That wasn’t in the policy manual either. So, did the members decide you would lead the group?” Otto asked.

Bloster’s face turned an angry red. “What happens when the president of the United States is killed? Pretty obvious, isn’t it? Why else have a vice president?”

“Who gets the guns?” Otto asked.

“It looks like you do, since we haven’t seen them since you showed up,” Bloster said.

“When we arrived at Red’s place, about an hour after we found Red’s body, the guns were gone. We searched the house and found none. You don’t have them? Don’t know where they are?” Otto asked, looking at him.

Bloster frowned and shook his head no.

“Dr. Fallow?” Otto asked.

“No, sir.”

Otto watched Fallow for a moment and wondered if the man was going to start crying. His forehead wrinkled, and he looked as if he were holding his breath.

“Dr. Fallow, if you have any idea where those guns are, you need to tell me. This could be crucial to finding Red’s killer.”

Fallow slapped his hand on the table and looked at Bloster. “Why don’t you ask him? He and Red were the ones who did things behind our backs.”

Bloster pointed a finger like a pistol toward Fallow. “You better shut the hell up.”

Fallow looked wild-eyed. “I’m tired of listening to you! You aren’t the president. You aren’t anyone’s boss. You’re just a bully. And you and Red have jeopardized everything!”

Bloster stood suddenly, knocking his chair backwards, leaned across the table, and punched Fallow in the mouth.

Otto leaped up from his chair. He pulled his gun and pointed it directly at Bloster’s chest. “Back away from the table!”

Bloster took a step back, surprise registered on his face as if he couldn’t believe he had just punched a man.

“Hand me your gun!” Otto yelled.

Bloster started to protest, but the fierce look Otto gave him worked. He pulled his sidearm from his holster.

Otto used his own gun to point at a folding metal chair several feet to the side of the conference table. “Sit down there and don’t say another word.”

Otto glared at Fallow, who was still sitting in his chair, looking like a whipped pup. Otto pointed toward the back of the room. “There’s a bathroom back there. Why don’t you go clean up.”

Fallow walked back to the bathroom, his head hung low. Otto turned to stand in front of Bloster, one hand on his hip, the other still holding the gun, pointed at the floor. “This the way you deal with your problems? You want to shut somebody up, so you punch them? Maybe you shoot a bullet through their forehead?”

Bloster turned his head away. “I can’t stand that sissy. He had no business joining the Gunners. Only reason Red let him was money. He dropped a wad of money toward the cause so he could feel like a man.” Bloster looked as if he were going to spit on the floor. “He’s a joke.”

Otto split the men up and interviewed them separately after Fallow refused to press charges. Bloster would not talk and said if Otto had anything more to ask, he would have to do it through a lawyer. When Bloster left, Fallow sat with Otto at the conference table again. Fallow closed his eyes and held a fist to his mouth, obviously too terrified of Hack Bloster or some other demon to come clean with Otto about what he knew.

“Talk to me about some of the other members in the Gunners,” Otto said. “Who was Red closest to? Who did he have the most problems with?”

Fallow sniffed. “Hack Bloster. On both counts.”

Otto was losing patience. “I got that. Who else?”

Fallow shrugged a shoulder. Otto noticed his red-rimmed eyes were a lavender color, and he wondered if the man wore tinted contacts. Otto figured he probably dyed his thin head of hair blond as well.

Fallow said, “Jimmy Johnson and Fred Grant. They’re two buddies of Red’s. Never missed meetings. Jimmy used to help Red with his cows. He transported them for slaughter. He and Red were pretty close.” He listed several other members who attended regularly and were “true to the cause.” Otto took down the names of two other men who Fallow claimed were sometimes argumentative in meetings.

“How often did the group meet?”

“Once a month. We also got together to shoot out at Red’s place a few times a year. The