Free Erica Spindler by In Silence Page A

and new guard of Cypress Springs. Wisdom invigorated by youth. Youth tempered by the wisdom of experience. A difficult combination to beat.
    â€œGood evening,” he said. “As always, I appreciate the sacrifice each of you made to be here tonight.”
    Because of the nature of the group, because some would not understand their motives—even those who stood to benefit most from their efforts, indeed, their sacrifice—they met in secret and under cover of late night. Even their families didn’t know the location or true nature of these meetings.
    â€œI have bad news,” he told the group. “I have reason to believe Elaine St. Claire has contacted a Cypress Springs citizen.”
    A murmur went around the table. One of his generals spoke. “How certain are you of this?”
    â€œQuite. I saw the letter myself.”
    â€œThis is bad,” another said. “If she’s brazen enough tocontact someone in Cypress Springs, she very well might contact the authorities.”
    â€œI plan to take care of it.”
    â€œHow? Isn’t she living in New Orleans?”
    â€œShe can destroy us,” another interjected. “To leave Cypress Springs is to lose the safety of our number.”
    The Gavel shook his head, saddened. New Orleans had been the perfect place for her. Sin city. Anything went.
    But, it seemed, she hadn’t been able to help herself. No doubt, the passing months had dimmed her fear, had lessened the immediacy of the danger. It was human nature, he acknowledged. He hadn’t been surprised.
    He was beginning to doubt the effectiveness of the warning system they had devised. Warnings rarely worked. Or only proved a short-term deterrent.
    â€œShe’s in St. Francisville now,” he said.
    â€œBetter,” a general murmured. “We have friends there.”
    â€œWe won’t need them,” the Gavel said. “I’ve planned a trap. A carefully executed trap.”
    â€œLure her back to Cypress Springs,” General Blue said. “Once here, she’s ours.”
    â€œExactly.” He gazed from one face to another around the table. “Are we in agreement, shall I set the trap?”
    The generals didn’t hesitate. They had learned nothing good came with lack of conviction. Weakness opened the door to destruction.
    The Gavel nodded. “Consider it done. Next? Any concerns?”
    Blue spoke again. “A newcomer to Cypress Springs. An outsider. She’s asking questions about The Seven. About our history.”
    The Gavel frowned. He’d heard, too. Outsiders always posed serious threats. They didn’t understand what The Seven were fighting for. How seriously they took theirconvictions. Invariably, they had to be dealt with quickly and mercilessly.
    Outsiders with knowledge of The Seven posed an even more significant danger.
    Damn the original group, he thought. They’d been weak. They hadn’t concealed their actions well. They hadn’t been willing to take whatever measures were required, no matter the consequences to life or limb.
    Too touchy-feely, the Gavel thought, lips twisting into a sneer. They’d bowed to internal fighting and the squeamishness of a few members. Bowed to a member who threatened to go to the American Civil Liberties Union and the Feds. And to any and all of those prissy-assed whiners who were sending this country to hell in a hand-basket.
    It made him sick to think about it. What about the rights of decent, law-abiding folks to have a safe, morally clean place to live?
    That’s where he and his generals differed from the original group. The Gavel had chosen his men carefully. Had chosen men as strong-willed as he. Men whose commitment to the cause mirrored his own in steadfastness and zeal.
    He was willing to die for the cause.
    He was willing to kill for it.
    â€œThe outsider,” the Gavel asked, “anyone have a name yet?”
    No one did. A general called