"Hey, who you calling racist?" Cypher points at the boxes of food. "I'm not the guy who sent the black dude to fetch his lunch."
"Actually, I volunteered--"
I cut Anders off with a wave. "Don't even bother. Tyrone is still convinced I'm Aboriginal."
Cypher screws up his face. "What?"
"First Nations," I say.
"First...?" He rolls his eyes. "Oh, fuck. Are you offended 'cause I called you an Injun? Fine. Are those the currently fashionable terms? First Nations? Aboriginal? I'll use those, then. Happy?"
Anders looks at me, one brow cocked. "Then I should warn you about lunch, Case. It's probably not something you've tried. Chicken chow mein. Chinese. But it's pretty good."
"I've heard that."
Dalton shakes his head and escorts Tyrone into the station.
FIFTY-ONE
Cypher has found Roger. Found his camp, at least.
"I'd have brought him in," he says as we eat. "But he knows something's up. He's hunkered down in an open patch right up against a cliff side. No way of getting close without him seeing me coming. I'm no fucking good at subtlety."
Anders snorts under his breath. Cypher doesn't catch it and continues, "I considered waiting for nightfall, but I figure I'm about as likely to spook him as to bring him in. If I spook him, he's gone. Seemed safer to just come and get you folks."
I thank him for that. Then Dalton and I exchange a look. While it's a sensible decision, it's also worrisome. I'd have kept my suspicions to myself. But Cypher isn't the only one in the room who lacks subtlety.
"You setting us up, Ty?" Dalton asks as he reaches for another helping.
"What?"
"You heard me. I appreciate that you didn't risk spooking him. It's the right move. Not a Ty Cypher move, though."
Cypher's eyes narrow. "You calling me stupid, boy?"
"No, but given that you'd get a bigger reward for bringing him in, I'd have expected you to try."
"Maybe because you knew a younger man, one a helluva lot more willing to wager good money on a shitty bet. I want my fucking coffee. I'm not going to risk that. I want supplies, too. We've got a bad winter coming. You spend time out in those woods, you learn that big gambles are the sure way to guarantee you won't spend much more time in those woods. That's something I'd expect you to know all about."
I make a noise in my throat, but Cypher doesn't push the jab further, just refills his mug and adds enough creamer to make my teeth ache.
"If you don't want Roger, that's fine," Cypher says. "But you still owe me for scouting him."
"You know I'll come with you. I'm just letting you know that I don't trust you, and I'll be bringing Will and Casey."
"You sure you don't want the full fucking militia? An honor guard to keep you safe?"
"An honor guard is ceremonial. The term you want is 'security detail.' I don't need either. I want backup, and if you think mockery will make me say 'fuck that,' and come alone, you've got the wrong sheriff. Now pour that coffee in a thermos, and let's move while we still have daylight."
*
We've been hiking for maybe ten minutes when Cypher says, "Seems tense back in Rockton. Everyone running around with guns, jumpy as hell. A bit of professional advice. You're obviously thinking Roger is coming back for the girl. I'd say the chances of that are slim to none."
I think he's making a really bad joke, but when I look over, he's perfectly serious. He doesn't realize Nicole is gone. Those who escorted him in wouldn't have mentioned it, and we'd been too focused on Roger.
"It already happened," I say.
"What?"