“Searchers,” he said, his raspy voice allowing no disagreement, “outside now. We need to get this day started. And while we’re at it, I don’t want to see any weapons.”
“But...” someone said.
Gage shook his head. “Listen, Bob, we’re all mad and upset, but I don’t want to be carrying one of you to the morgue today. Or worse, some innocent ranch hand or hiker. We catch this guy fair and square or we’re just murderers. Now get out there.”
The men trailed out after him, leaving only a few very elderly types behind. Suddenly, Mavis asked what they wanted for breakfast. They both ordered large meals, then watched through the window as Gage handed out some further orders. Soon trucks were pulling away.
“He’s good,” DeeJay remarked.
“He’s respected.”
“I hope they listen about the guns.”
“They’ll be reminded at the staging areas, I’m sure.”
Gage joined them just as they were being served large platters of bacon, eggs and toast. He pulled a chair from one of the tables, and Mavis promptly gave him a mug of coffee.
“You want a full breakfast or rolls?” she asked.
“Just rolls, Mavis. Thanks. My stomach’s so knotted these days I’m in danger of losing my love handles.” Mavis laughed, a deep, harsh sound, and wandered back to the kitchen.
“Thanks for calling me,” Gage said to Cade. “I’m starting to feel like I’m sitting on a powder keg.”
“You are,” DeeJay answered. “They’re looking for a way to burn off adrenaline.”
“Well, the cold and hiking today ought to help with that. I hope.”
Mavis delivered Gage’s rolls, refilled coffee cups all around the diner, then vanished into the back. Quiet conversation resumed among the old men in their little corner.
“So,” Gage said quietly, “I didn’t bring over the vic photos. Obviously. I’ll have Sarah Ironheart, one of my deputies, bring them over to the house later. I think you met her once, Gage.”
“A long time ago, I believe.”
“Well, you were never here very long. I doubt anyone remembers you.”
“I sure as hell hope not.”
“I was looking over them again this morning, along with the autopsy reports. Sarah will bring them, as well. But something struck me.”
He looked at DeeJay a long moment, then at Cade. “These vics not only resemble each other—I guess that’s not unusual for this kind of thing.”
“Not at all,” Cade agreed. “A lot of them seem to have a particular type they’re after.”
“In this case, dark-haired boys about five feet tall and lean. Small. But something struck me.” Again his gaze trailed to DeeJay.
“What?” she asked.
“If you were ten inches shorter and a boy, you’d fit the victim profile.” He pushed back from the table, carrying a roll with him and draining his mug as soon as he stood. “I’ve got to go ride herd at the staging areas. Talk to you later.” He paused and looked again at DeeJay. “You be really careful, hear?”