Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Grace followed Fletcher into the police station and was met by Collier wearing a Kevlar vest and holding up two more. “Chief’s orders, ladies.”
Fletcher settled her hands on her hips. “You’re making that up. I’ve been here two years and have never had to dust one of those off.”
“We’ve never had someone running around town shooting at people with a bow and arrow before, either. Until he’s caught, we’ve been ordered to wear these while on duty.”
“Even if we’re in the office?” Fletcher complained.
“Even if.” He held one out to her.
She grumbled and took it.
“Malone?” He offered her the other one. “Obviously the chief can’t force you to wear this. But he highly recommends it. There are a few more in the supply closet if this one doesn’t fit.”
“Does O’Brien have one? He’s with that search party heading up to his place. If anyone should have one it’s him since the shooter obviously has a vendetta against him. He might as well have a target on his back.”
He grinned. “Funny you should say that. He’s the one who asked the chief to make sure you have a vest. And the rest of us, of course.” He cocked his head as if considering. “Should we read anything into that?”
Grace rolled her eyes, but her face flushed with heat.
“Leave her alone,” Fletcher scolded. “You need any help with those straps, Malone?”
“I think I can manage.” She slid it on and began adjusting the Velcro. “This vest is bulkier than the one I normally wear. I may exchange it for mine the next time I’m in my car.”
Fletcher motioned toward the conference room. “Did you want to set up in there or use Ortiz’s desk? It’s not as bad as usual. No crumbs this morning.” She chuckled.
Grace smiled and glanced at the proximity of his desk to Fletcher’s and Collier’s. The angle meant they’d see everything she was doing on her computer, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. But they’d also hear her on the phone—like when she called her boss to tell him about the fiasco yesterday.
“It would be easier to spread everything out in there,” Grace said.
“Sounds good. Supplies are in that cabinet by the vending machines if you need anything. For lunch we often have a sandwich shop farther down Main Street deliver. Let me know when you’re hungry.”
“I appreciate it.” Grace headed into the conference room and set her satchel on the table. No sooner had she unloaded her laptop and folders than Collier knocked on the glass door and headed inside. She groaned when she saw he was carrying his medical bag.
“Warned you yesterday that I’d need to check your stitches today and change that bandage. I’m still going to help you, even though you crushed my ego by flipping me over your shoulder. I still don’t see how you did that with a hurt arm, especially as small as you are.”
“Training. Want me to show you?”
“I’d rather not.”
She laughed and sat beside him so he could work on her arm.
“Looks good,” he said after he cut the bandage off. “No sign of infection. I’ll put some antibiotic ointment on it again and wrap it back up.” He set a bottle of pain pills on the table. “Take two of these and call me in the morning.” He winked and smeared the ointment on her arm, then expertly re-bandaged it.
“Thanks. Seriously. It feels much better this morning. You did a great job.”
“I’m a jack of all trades. Part-time doctor—”
“EMT.”
“—full-time police officer who looks great in a uniform. Good-looking and single. Know anyone who might appreciate that?” He waggled his brows at her.
“Are you flirting with me, Officer Collier?”
“You can call me Chris.”
“I’d rather not.”
He dramatically pressed his hand against his chest. “My hopes are dashed.”
The door opened and Fletcher stood in the opening. “Collier, leave the pretty FBI agent alone. I see what you’re doing. The walls are glass. Plus, I know you .”
“I was taking care of my patient.”
“Asking her out on a date, more likely. Ignore whatever he said to you, Malone. He flirts with any woman who will talk to him. It’s just what he does. He’s actually harmless.”
“Don’t forget good-looking.” He sighed at Malone. “Maybe next time.”
Malone couldn’t help laughing at his antics.
Fletcher grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room, lecturing him on professionalism the whole time.
It was obvious that they were good friends in addition to being coworkers. Like a brother and sister, their good-natured teasing and nagging spoke of a strong bond beneath the surface. She’d sensed that same camaraderie from the whole team when they’d all been together. Grace couldn’t help the tug of jealousy inside her.
She didn’t have any close friends at work. The stress and high expectations and constant evaluations during her training hadn’t allowed the time or casualness that would enable friendships to develop. Maybe once this investigation was over, if she did a good job, that would change. She’d love to experience the closeness the police here at Mystic Lake shared.
Grace started separating out her various reports and photographs, getting them organized so she could plan her next steps. Once everything was set, she logged on to the FBI portal to see whether the lab report was back on the first batch of evidence she’d had couriered yesterday. So far there was nothing. Unable to justify delaying any longer, she did the thing she’d been dreading most. She called her boss.
It didn’t go well.
He was ticked about her being injured and wanted her to go home, immediately. He’d send another agent to look into what had happened to confirm or disprove her suspicions that the shooter they were dealing with wasn’t the serial killer they were after.
She in turn appealed to his love of efficiency by arguing that the more experienced agents should use their skills to their best advantage by continuing to follow up on the leads from the Crossbow Killer’s known crime scenes. It made far more sense to leave the junior agent following up on a lead they doubted would pan out. Besides, she had the entire police force of Mystic Lake backing her up, plus a dozen deputies from Polk County. The odds of anything else bad happening to her were almost zero.
What she’d said wasn’t an outright lie. But she knew he’d assume the police force was more than four people. And he didn’t realize the deputies were here only for today to assist with a search. Luckily, he didn’t dive deeper into the logistics. But he didn’t agree to let her stay, either. Instead, he gave her twenty-four hours to report back on her progress, and her health. Once she called tomorrow morning with an update, he’d make a final decision about her continuing role in Mystic Lake.
She blew out a shaky breath and ended the call. Assuming today’s search didn’t result in the arrest of a suspect, she needed to show solid progress and not get into trouble again. Those knock-and-talks had just become critical. But before she headed out to conduct interviews, she wanted to read the ones that Fletcher had already conducted.
Fletcher had been extremely thorough. Grace couldn’t find any fault with her work. She’d asked all of the questions Grace would have, and then some. Her knowledge of both the town and its people was obviously a great asset. It gave her the background to know what types of things to ask about, specific to each person interviewed, things that wouldn’t have occurred to Grace.
She secured her laptop to the metal ring in the tabletop using a cable lock. Then she grabbed a small notepad and pen and slid them into her jacket pocket as she exited the conference room.
Collier was on the phone, taking notes, and nodded at her, preoccupied with whatever he was working on.
Fletcher looked up from her desktop computer, her glance falling to Grace’s jacket. “Are we going somewhere?”
“If your offer to help me with interviews is still open, yes. I was impressed with the ones you did yesterday. I’d appreciate your assistance today.”
The officer’s face lit up with pleasure. “Lo and behold, I impressed a Fed. I’ll bet Collier can’t say the same.” When he didn’t even look her way, she rolled her eyes. “It’s no fun teasing him if he isn’t paying attention.” She grabbed her jacket and shrugged it on over her vest, frowning and readjusting the straps before zipping her jacket. “Did you have any specific place in mind where you want to start?”
“The campground.”