When they were halfway down the hill, Fiji passed Creek the flag.

Creek said, “Stronghold. The mailed fist.”

“That was what the guys said, right? The guys who attacked Bobo and Manfred? That they were citizens of Stronghold?”

“Yeah.”

“So they’re saying Aubrey was one of them? They’re trying to make her into a little martyr?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

Creek was looking tragic, Fiji realized. “Hey,” Fiji said. “What’s up, Creek?” Surely, Fiji thought, with more than a touch of exasperation, surely this can’t still be about her deep grief for Aubrey.

Creek inhaled deeply. “Dad told me not to go to the funeral. But he never wants me to go anywhere, so I just blew him off. Why would people take pictures at a funeral? Well, normally they wouldn’t . . . but when assholes show up on motorcycles and disrupt everything . . .”

“You couldn’t know that would happen. No one expected that.” Fiji felt greatly at a loss. Most of her concentration was focused on driving through Buffalo Plain to turn onto the highway to Marthasville, but what thinking room she had to spare was occupied in (a) hoping they wouldn’t catch up to the motorcycle group, (b) worrying about Creek, and (c) her curiosity about Creek’s weird reaction when things went wrong at the service. “You’re not supposed to be photographed?” she asked.

But Creek wasn’t going to volunteer any more information. “Thank you,” she told Fiji, a bit stiffly. “I appreciate your getting us out of there as soon as possible.” The unspoken words “but not soon enough” hung in the air between them. After a minute, Fiji glanced over to see Creek’s mouth clenched in a defiant line.

She’s proud of being strong, Fiji thought, adding that to her growing fund of knowledge about Creek. “I didn’t want to stick around, either,” she said. She made an effort to smile, but she kept her eyes straight ahead. “Once I knew that was Price Eggleston.”

“You know him?” Creek said. “You’ve met him? Who is he?”

“I know what he’s been doing.” She explained to Creek about Eggleston’s militia, about his visit to the pawnshop and his sending the girl Lisa in to plant the camera.

“So he’s a rich bad guy?”

Creek’s been watching too many movies and not enough real life. “Well, he’s better off than most people, I understand. I think it’s his dad who has the real big money. But anyone who has to have a bunch of guns to achieve his ends, someone who doesn’t mind beating up innocent people to get them, someone who’s . . .” Who’s willing to hurt Bobo. Who’s willing to send a young woman in to seduce a man to get his way. Who’s willing to kill that young woman when she doesn’t do what he wants. “Yeah. He’s a bad guy.”