I wondered where the money had come from, and obviously she had money, since she’d given a bunch of it to the bearded guy. The Klansman. I hated to admit it, but I was starting to agree with Rosalinda. Zee wasn’t our kind of people, and she was getting Gentry mixed up in something dangerous. He wasn’t even paying attention to us. While we were talking, he picked up Zee’s gun and very calmly popped the clip out of it. Then he ejected the bullet from the chamber, like he was in a movie.

“When last was this cleaned?” he said.

“I don’t know,” Zee said.

Gentry opened his big rucksack to get a rag and a bottle of oil. He started taking the gun apart and cleaning it, while Zee watched.

“You know how to use a gun?” she said. “What happened to swords and armor, Sir Gentry?”

“I am no fool, Lady Zhorzha. I build flying machines. Yea, I ken the workings of a gun. My father taught me.”

“Well, I think you should wipe it all down, including the bullets, so it doesn’t have your fingerprints on it. You know, in case it gets used.”

Gentry nodded and went on cleaning the gun.

“So, we’re talking pretty casually about shooting people. Did I read that right?” I said.

“I’m sorry he brought you all the way out here without telling you what was going on,” Zee said. “If I’d known, I would’ve stopped him.”

“I mean, I kind of knew,” Edrard said. Which was complete bullshit. At no point had he mentioned white supremacists or hostages or anything like that. He had such a fear of missing out, he would go along with anything. “But do we know for sure where your sister is?”

“Yea, we haven a map,” Gentry said.

He put the gun back together and gave it a last wipe-down before he put it in Zee’s backpack. Then he went to the bathroom and washed his hands. When he came back, Zee got the map, Gentry got his iPad, and, like we hadn’t been discussing the KKK at all, the three of them started looking at satellite maps and discussing what roads to take. Talking like they were really going to do this, until I thought my head would explode.

“Josh, will you listen to me?” I said. “While you were gone, her uncle came here with a guy who is apparently in the Klan, and brought that map. Please, will you think about that? Her uncle knows people in the Klan.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of how prison works. You make friends with the people you make friends with,” Zee said. “Including white supremacists sometimes, which is not my favorite thing, either.”

“I was here. I saw the guy, Josh. These are not fancy-pants college campus Nazis in fitted suits. These are real, backwoods, cross-burning racists. The kind of people who tie you to their tailgate and drag you to death. Just for fun.”

“’Tis all the more reason I would see them returned to their prison,” Gentry said.

“Then let’s call the police. I didn’t sign on for some crazy vigilante shit.” I hadn’t signed on for being the only one thinking rationally, either, but there I was.

“It’s not like her uncle is still in the KKK,” Edrard said, like that was the whole point of what I’d said. “Is he?”

“No. He never was. He was friends with these people in prison, because he had to be.”

“Gentry,” I said, but we’d lost him. He was in full-blown campaign mode, scribbling notes on the map with a cheap motel pen. We weren’t getting him back anytime soon, which in some ways made it easier to say what I needed to.

“Zee, I haven’t known you very long, but I feel you may have missed an important element, so I need you to listen to me really carefully. Gentry is my friend. I care about him.”

“We all do,” Edrard said, but I thought it was more likely that Zee saw him as a convenience. Someone to use.

“Okay, great. We all care about him,” I said. “I know you’ve known him the longest, Edrard, but I’ve known him for nearly five years, long enough to say very firmly that he is not all there. I’m not saying that because he’s autistic, so don’t even with that. Autism spectrum disorder is one thing. Plenty of people on the spectrum function really well. Gentry does fine. He has a job. He has his hobbies. But let’s be honest, he also has half a dozen invisible friends who talk to him in his head. Please, will you think about that for a minute?”

Zee gave me a glare that was so malevolent it made me glad Gentry had put her gun away.

“You don’t have to be that way about it,” Edrard said.

“I guess he probably does,” Zee said. “I guess that’s how he sees Gentry.”

“Oh, don’t get all high and mighty with me like I’m being mean or something. You cannot possibly believe he’s capable of making the kinds of decisions that are involved in this. He has no business going on some half-assed rescue mission with you. You need to call the FBI or something, and give them that map.”

Gentry looked up from his trance and said, “My lady, we musten go this even.”

“I know. They won’t stay there. We have to get there before they leave,” she said.

Like I hadn’t said a word.

“Josh, are you really—”

“Stop calling me Josh,” Edrard said. “What are you trying to do?”

Before I could answer, someone knocked on the door. As if it were a totally normal thing to do, Zee took the gun out of her backpack, tucked it into the back of her pants, and went to answer the door.

“Hey, cuz,” said the guy she let in. He was tall like her and her uncle, but a pimply, gap-toothed kid whose eyes were too close together. Top-quality inbreeding. He shook Gentry’s hand, saying, “My man.”

“Master Dirk, well met,” Gentry said.

Then because we were there and he was looking at us, Edrard and I introduced ourselves.

“What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” Zee said.

“Yeah, but I got to thinking, if you needed another hand, I’d go. I mean, we’re family and all.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I said. “We can go home, and Zee and Cousin Dirk can go do whatever crazy thing they want to do.”

“Thou art under no obligation, Sir Rhys. If thou wishest, thou mayest go at once.” It was maybe the first time I ever heard Gentry sound annoyed. He was so phlegmatic that even hearing him raise his voice was a surprise.

“Gentry,” Zee said. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

He tilted his head the way he did when he was having one of his internal conversations.