Chapter 3
There was a handy-dandy sheriff’s deputy waiting for them when Miranda stepped inside the small Helery County Sheriff’s Department—without her Knightly shadow.
He was on his way from the parking lot somewhere behind her, but she hadn’t waited.
She’d needed time to breathe for a moment.
Knight in her personal space on a small airplane—yes, that always made her need to breathe when she made it back to land. Probably always would.
Miranda focused on the deputy who had obviously been waiting. She strongly suspected the younger woman had been pacing while she waited.
Deputy Hagan Lindhour was maybe five years younger than Miranda, eight inches shorter, and looked almost too delicate to be a cop.
She had deep, rich brown hair and a shy smile.
She reminded Miranda of a good friend of hers back in Masterson.
Claudia, too, was only a few inches over five feet and probably didn't weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet.
Claudia more than made up for it in fight.
Hagan had the same kind of fire in her big hazel eyes.
She’d been waiting outside the sheriff’s department when they’d driven in. Obviously impatient to get started.
It was somewhat surprising, parking the car.
The station was three blocks over from the parking lot here in Helery Springs.
Small towns. Miranda loved them. Each one she'd ever been to was just as quirky in its own way.
This town looked clean, but a bit run-down.
And like so many others she had seen before.
The deputy was watching her, apprehension in her eyes she probably didn’t even realize was showing.
“I love small towns. Tell me about Helery Springs.
Tell me the good, the bad, the ugly, and where to find the best food, especially ice cream.
" She could sense that the woman was nervous. Maybe a little irritated. And…almost scared? She wanted to get that scared look out of the woman’s eyes.
To make something right for someone, somehow. It had already been that kind of day.
And…the look in the woman’s eyes had Miranda just knowing.
There was something going on here. She could feel it. She just kept that feeling to herself for now—Knight would tell her she was being emotional again, to wait for the facts, not jump the gun, follow her training not her instincts, that kind of thing.
The man was so linear at times. Drove her insane, but…Dr. Allan Knight was very, very good at what he did. Then again, so was she. They just got to the finish line taking different routes each time, though.
Miranda looked around the small station house.
The precinct was not as neat and tidy as the town outside it.
Definitely not. There was 1970s paneling on the walls.
An inch of dust coated every yellowed newspaper clipping tacked to those walls.
Cigarette smoke somehow still lingered. And…
was that the underlying smell of…body odor?
It was. She was almost sure it was.
Miranda doubted the station had changed much at all since the 1970s—and it might not have been vacuumed in just as long. Some stations she'd been in just had that kind of feel about them. The lived-in thing.
This wasn’t lived in though—it was neglected. Almost purposefully so. Weird.
It wouldn’t surprise her if there were bugs in here. The actual creepy kind—not the surveillance. The creepy, bitey kind. Ick.
Talk about neglect.
Like that neglect was deliberately shoved into the face of everyone who entered.
And…there were men watching her now. And none of them looked too friendly. Great.
This case might be more complicated than it first appeared.
She shot them her best smile, because…why not, right? None of the six men or one woman in the room smiled back. Okay…
Because small towns had small-town politics as well.
That was something she'd seen before. Miranda found that extremely fascinating. There were studies that had spanned the relationships between American citizens, not the political machinations of government entities. She’d read so many of them now.
Miranda would one day write her own.
She added Helery Springs to her list of places to research more in depth when the time came.
She intended to spend her retirement doing nothing but studying the sociological aspects of small towns.
There wasn't much money in it, of course, but thanks to her father's investments, she should be able to manage it when the time came.
She resisted the urge to check her phone to see if there was anything from Bentley.
Now that she had had him long enough for him to feel safe with her, he was acting out.
She knew theoretically what and why—but being in the thick of things was more difficult than she had anticipated.
Trauma rewired brains, no matter how old someone was. And Bentley was so little.
The last thing she wanted to do was mess things up for him.
Parenting was terrifying. Scariest thing she had ever done.
But Max could handle it. She had complete faith in Max. Bentley would be okay, and he was safe and they were going to figure this out together. Right?
She’d figured out actual serial killers before—but one little boy…just not yet.
"There isn't much to tell. We have around four thousand people living in Helery Springs and the surrounding area.
There are three unincorporated areas, as well.
We have maybe about four hundred people living in Buckbert, the biggest town other than Helery Springs, including me.
I have a townhouse in Buckbert. I'm the main deputy assigned to that area.
I tend to check in here at Helery Springs before heading back to Buckbert every day.
I spend ninety percent of my time in Buckbert, patrolling, unless I am needed… here."
Miranda had been in places like this before.
They had one centrally located station, such as the one she was standing in now, but deputies were assigned to rural and unincorporated towns and small townships all over America.
In case of larger events or emergencies, everyone would find their way to the location.
Masterson County operated much the same way.
This place reminded her of Masterson County under the sheriff before Joel—her stepbrother now—had taken over. That jerk Clive Gunderson had almost killed people she cared about, including her stepbrother Nate's wife, Percy.
Miranda bit back a shudder. There was nothing she despised more than corrupt small-town cops. Fortunately, she hadn’t encountered a whole lot of them in this job—but more than she really wanted to.
She suspected they still hadn't uncovered all of Clive Gunderson's dirty little secrets. Or former Mayor Jasper Grady's. That situation was still a powder keg in Masterson, especially for the man's five children—including her friend Claudia.
But that was a story for another day. Today, her focus was on the young woman in front of her. "You have an office we can use?"
"Not here.” Deputy Lindhour shot an almost furtive look to the larger open room where the sheriff and four of his deputies were congregating.
“If you come with me, I was just about ready to go out on patrol.
There is a small station in Buckbert that I tend to operate out of.
There is more…room…and I have my notes…there. "
And this woman did not want the sheriff and his buddies to overhear. Interesting.
Miranda had not planned to do a ride-along today. The way they normally worked was the FBI arrived, spoke with the officer in charge, and went from there. Well, adaptability was the name of the game, at times.
Deputy Lindhour must have suspected what Miranda was thinking.
Her tone lowered. "Sheriff Johnson believes it was a drug deal gone bad, but I don't believe that.
The only reason you're here, or I got you here, is because Harper's uncle is good friends with the former lieutenant governor, and I think he called in a few favors. "
Politics. "I understand."
She looked up when a shadow passed in front of her. She’d been expecting him—he’d been on a call with Fin McLaughlin and one of the Agent Lorcans—there were six Lorcans who worked for PAVAD—out in the parking lot for five minutes.
Something with a previous case was heating up.
Knight was going to just have to catch up.
Everyone looked at him when the man of the hour walked in. His presence got the deputies in the back to their feet, like what Knight wanted was more important than what they were doing. The man had power to command attention, that was for sure.
"He’s with me, boys. Deputy Lindhour can handle it from here, I’m sure.
” She fought to keep the snark out of her voice.
The man had a presence, no denying that.
But…other than the slimy elevator eyes thing when she’d walked in with Deputy Lindhour and shown her creds—she had barely gotten any attention at all.
And that had been from the sheriff.
Dismissive, deliberately, had been her first impression. He had silently made it very clear that he didn’t want the FBI there. And he wasn’t going to be helpful.
"Dr. Talley?" Knight said in that deep voice that always gave her the shivers.
"Dr. Allan Knight—my partner, Deputy Hagan Lindhour. You're with us on patrol, Knight. We’re actually going to be working out of the Buckbert…office. That all right?" She sent him a significant look over the top of her sunglasses that told him it had better be all right.
They knew the truth—she didn’t need to ask his permission for anything.
But…he picked up on her signal. And she was watching the faces of the men surrounding them.
It had been expected that he, as the man, would be the one in charge.
Interesting. Pathetic, but an intriguing bit of information.
Some of the lackeys had actually relaxed when she’d handed control over to the man. Interesting.
Possible they were so used to following orders like good little sheeple, that it just seemed normal for the big man to be the one in charge? What kind of little dusty ship did Sheriff Johnson run here?
Knight gave an abrupt nod. "Fine. No use wasting time."
She knew the truth. Knight wanted out of there, too.
He could probably smell the cigarette smoke permeating the station, and he wanted out of there just as much as she did. The Helery Springs police station was claustrophobic. There was no denying that.
It was time to separate the players and get started.
Figure out just what exactly it was they were dealing with here.
So she just stood quietly while the sheriff finally approached. Approached Knight. He held out his hand. And waited.