CHAPTER SEVEN
Kelly followed Selena’s sedan west toward Elmsview, keeping two car lengths between them.
The road left Eagleton through a line of small houses and auto-repair yards before bending between wooded slopes.
Morning sunlight moved across the windshield as the trees opened and closed around the highway.
Kelly recognized the turns even when the businesses beside them had changed.
A feed store had become a discount furniture outlet.
The old gas station near the county line stood abandoned, its pumps gone and its canopy rusting at the edges.
Elmsview appeared beyond the next rise.
The town had grown around its margins, but the center remained much as Kelly remembered it. Brick storefronts faced the road. A church steeple rose above the roofs. Pickup trucks occupied the angled spaces outside a diner whose sign had been repainted without changing its name.
The place had always seemed larger when she was young.
Kelly had grown up in Eagleton, where some people spoke about Elmsview as if the two towns existed on opposite sides of a national border.
The rivalry followed Eagleton students even after they crossed into Elmsview for high school, spilling into parking lots, dances, and arguments over which town produced tougher kids.
A smile touched Kelly’s mouth.
How had they allowed something so foolish to matter?
Children inherited grudges before they understood them. Eagleton against Elmsview. Families against families. Girls deciding who belonged and who deserved to be driven from a locker room in tears.
The smile disappeared.
Selena’s sedan turned into the sheriff’s department parking lot.
Kelly followed and parked three spaces away. Selena got out without checking behind her, crossed to the entrance, and disappeared inside.
Kelly remained in the car.
The temporary transfer had seemed right when Meg Calloway called.
Seattle had become difficult long before Kelly filed the paperwork.
The office, the rain, the apartment she had stopped trying to make feel like a home.
Each day repeated the one before it until a transfer anywhere else began to seem less like a career move and more like escape.
Then Meg mentioned Harlan County.
A new office. A chance to help build its procedures instead of inheriting somebody else’s habits. Violent-crime work in a region that needed federal support. Kelly could arrive early, establish relationships, and become part of whatever the Eagleton post developed into.
When Meg said Selena Raven would head the office, Kelly accepted before thinking through what that meant.
Some part of her had believed the years would have weakened the past.
They had not.
Kelly caught her reflection in the rear-view mirror. The makeup beneath her eyes had gathered slightly near the lower lashes. She reached into her bag for a compact, then stopped with her hand inside it.
Selena’s words returned.
You chose it. Again, and again.
Kelly had.
There was no useful defense. At sixteen, she had been a rich girl with a car, expensive clothes, and parents who donated money whenever the school needed something. Teachers gave her the benefit of every doubt. Other students laughed when she expected them to laugh.
She had used all of it against people who could not answer back.
And all because her father was handy with his fists behind closed doors.
What if she told Selena that? That her father was a violent bastard who took pleasure in disciplining his family.
What if she told Selena that when she was grounded for already being mean, her father locked her in a dark closet for 12 hours without water. Would that have mattered?
Kelly pushed those memories away.
Kelly whispered, “If only they knew what I was going through.”
The sentence sounded weak inside the closed car.
Pain did not excuse cruelty. She knew that now.
At sixteen, she had not wanted anyone to know what happened behind the gates of her family’s home, or how fear could follow her downstairs while she wore clothes that cost more than some families spent on groceries.
Keeping that secret had required control.
At school, she had found it by making other people afraid first.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Kelly wiped it away, angry at herself for allowing it. She opened the compact, repaired the faint line in her foundation, and checked that no redness remained around her eyes.
The sheriff’s department waited beyond the windshield.
Maybe coming back had been a mistake. Selena did not owe her forgiveness, and working beside someone who remembered her at her worst could become impossible for both.
Leaving now would prove Selena right about something else. Kelly had come for the case. Whatever happened between them, Karen Sloane still deserved the work.
She put away the compact and got out.
The front office was warmer than the morning outside. A woman sat behind the counter, sorting envelopes into wooden trays. Dark hair had been pinned away from her cheeks, and a pair of reading glasses rested near one elbow.
The woman lifted her gaze. “Can I help you?”
Kelly showed her credentials. “Special Agent Kelly Voss. I’ve been assigned to the Harlan County field office.”
Recognition passed across the woman’s expression, though whether it came from the name or Selena warning her was unclear.
“I’m Cheryl. I handle the front desk and whatever else nobody claims.”
“Nice to meet you, Cheryl.”
“Agent Raven’s already in the briefing room with Sheriff Chase and two deputies.”
Kelly adjusted the strap of her laptop bag. “Thank you.”
Cheryl pointed toward the security door, then pressed a release beneath the desk. “Down the hall, second door on your left.”
Kelly started through.
“Agent Voss?”
She turned.
Cheryl leaned one forearm on the counter. “How are you getting on with Agent Raven?”
“Frosty.”
The answer escaped before Kelly considered it.
Cheryl’s eyebrows rose.
Kelly regretted the word at once. Discussing her supervisor with local staff on the first morning violated every sensible rule of a new assignment.
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“That’s been my experience, too,” Cheryl replied. “But I suppose she’s not all that bad.”
A brief smile appeared.
“Don’t tell her I said that.”
Kelly returned the smile without encouraging more. “Your secret’s safe.”
The corridor beyond the security door smelled of paper, floor cleaner, and a heating system that had recently been switched on. Framed photographs of former sheriffs lined one wall. Voices reached her from the briefing room before she arrived.
Kelly stopped outside.
The morning’s confrontation had left her unsettled.
Meeting Connor Chase brought a different discomfort.
He had been part of the same school world, though older and distant from most of Kelly’s cruelty.
People in Harlan County remembered more than they admitted.
Connor had married Selena. Whatever Selena told him during those years, he might know every detail.
Kelly smoothed the front of her jacket and adjusted one cuff.
Then she knocked and entered.
Selena stood beside the murder board with a cup of coffee. Connor occupied the opposite end of the table, holding his own cup near his chest. Arnold Shaw leaned against a filing cabinet, while a stocky deputy with gray at his temples sat near the computer with a coffee cup beside his folder.
Conversation stopped.
Selena set down her drink. “This is my number two for now, Special Agent Kelly Voss.”
The wording made the temporary nature of the arrangement clear.
Arnold stepped forward first. “Deputy Arnold Shaw. Welcome.”
He shook her hand with easy warmth.
The older deputy rose next. “Chuck Danner.”
Kelly recognized him from the preliminary personnel notes Meg had sent about the case and the personnel she would be working with. Fifty-something, solid through the middle, experienced, and trusted by Connor.
“Good to meet you,” Kelly said.
Connor came around the table.
“Sheriff Connor Chase.”
Their hands met.
“Welcome back to Elmsview.”
His voice remained professional, but his gaze held recognition. The memory attached to it was not pleasant.
“Thank you, Sheriff.”
Connor released her hand and indicated a desk near the wall. “We’ve got a place for you to work whenever you’re here. Dana handles archives and IT. She’s setting up a computer and access credentials for you. Might be later today.”
“I appreciate it.”
Arnold lifted his coffee. “Dana works to her own schedule.”
Connor gave him a warning glance. “She works better without commentary.”
Chuck shifted a folder away from the empty desk. “You can use this terminal in the meantime if you need it.”
“Thanks.”
Selena moved toward the board. “All right. Let’s get Kelly up to speed.”
A county map, a timeline, and photographs from the Montgomery cabin covered the white surface.
Karen Sloane’s driver’s-license picture had been placed near the top.
Beside it was a scene photograph showing her across the desk, blood dark across her clothing and lower jaw.
The damage to her mouth was partly visible.
Kelly had read the description. Seeing the image gave it weight the report could not.
Selena spoke without referring to notes.
“Karen Sloane was forty-one, recently divorced, and living in Loyall until she rented Hannah Montgomery’s cabin for three months.
“The mail carrier discovered her yesterday morning. The killer attacked her with a bladed weapon, stabbed her several times in the chest, and removed her tongue. It was left on the floor beside a word processor the killer deliberately smashed.”
Kelly moved closer to the board.
“Karen went to the cabin to write a novel,” Selena continued. “We believe both acts may have been intended to silence her. Her storage unit in Loyall was broken into shortly before she moved, and some personal property and papers were taken.”
Connor picked up the next part. “Her former husband, Gerry Tomes, says he was at home drinking with his roommate all night. He claims Karen accused him of the storage break-in and then told him not to contact her.”
“Matt Price finished his initial fingerprint sweep this morning,” Selena said. “No unidentified prints at the scene.”
Kelly studied the photographs of the door, windows, desk, and broken machine. “Then the killer probably wore gloves. With the weapon, the mutilation, and the effort to avoid prints, this sounds planned.”
“It does,” Selena said.
Kelly noted the clipped reply. Selena had asked her to help, but approval would not be handed out for saying the obvious.
Arnold set down his cup. “I caught up with Hinkel. He backed Gerry’s alibi. Says they started drinking around seven and kept going past midnight.”
“Did you verify they stayed at the house?” Kelly asked.
“Pizza was delivered at nine twelve,” Arnold said. “The driver remembers both men answering together because they were arguing over who had the cash. Phone-location records are being requested.”
Chuck opened the folder in front of him. “Sheriff had me search the databases. Nothing significant on Hinkel or Tomes. Gerry has a DUI from six years ago. No felonies, no domestic-violence convictions, and no active protective orders.”
“Loyall police attended one argument during the marriage,” Connor added. “No arrest. Karen told the officer Gerry threw a plate and broke a cabinet door. Gerry admitted damaging property during our interview, but said he never laid a hand on his ex-wife.”
Kelly turned toward him. “Any other next of kin?”
“Her parents live in Florida,” Connor said. “They’ve been notified in person. No siblings and no children.”
“Close friends?”
“We’re still building the list.”
Kelly examined the board again. “For the moment, the ex-husband is less likely, but his alibi starts at seven, and Karen’s death window begins earlier. We still need his phone and vehicle records before we reduce his priority.”
“Agreed,” Connor said. “Dr. Blethan’s autopsy may give us something new, so you have that to look forward to.”
Kelly’s attention returned to the photograph of the broken word processor. Pieces of yellowed casing lay across the floor. Several keys had separated from the board.
“Was Karen already a writer? Published anywhere?”
“A budding one,” Selena said. “According to Hannah Montgomery, she rented the cabin to finish her first novel.”
Kelly thought for a moment. “What about local writing groups? Workshops, library meetings, online critique circles? Someone there might know what she was working on or whether she’d mentioned the storage break-in.
Writers like to share their setups and writing holes, so it’s possible she mentioned to another writer or to a group that she would be at the cabin.
The broken word processor could be from jealousy or a rival. ”
Arnold nodded. “That’s a good idea.”
“Thanks.”
Selena’s response came without warmth or resistance. “Kelly, check that and her social-media accounts. Find every group she joined, every page she followed, and anyone she contacted about writing. We need her email too, once the warrant clears.”
“I’ll start now.”
A knock sounded at the door.
Cheryl entered carrying a sheet of paper.
Connor turned. “What is it, Cheryl?”
“I just received a call from a man named Phil Mercer. He reported his wife missing. I figured with what happened to Karen Sloane, you’d want to know straightaway.”
Connor accepted the page and read it.
“How long has she been gone?”
“Since yesterday afternoon. Her name’s Linda Mercer. Phil says she left their house after an argument and never came back. Her car’s missing, too.”
Selena moved beside him. “Any contact since?”
“None. Phone goes straight to voicemail.”
Connor passed her the report.
Selena scanned it once. “Let’s go follow this up.”
Kelly stepped away from the board. “Can I come? It would help me get a feel for the area. It’s been a long time since I was around here.”
“No,” Selena said.
The room became quiet.
Kelly felt the refusal more sharply because everyone else heard it.
Selena folded the report and handed it back to Connor. “Stick with Karen’s social accounts and the writing-group angle. We need movement on the victim we already have.”
The reason was defensible. The delivery made clear that there would be no discussion.
Disappointment settled beneath Kelly’s ribs.
“All right.”
Selena picked up her jacket. “Come on.”
Connor followed her into the corridor.
Cheryl stepped aside to let them pass, but her gaze returned to Kelly. Arnold busied himself with his coffee. Chuck closed the database folder and gave no outward reaction, though the silence among them had changed.
They sensed it.
Perhaps Connor already knew the reason. The others would begin guessing before lunch.
Kelly placed her laptop bag beside the empty desk and lowered herself into the chair. The terminal remained dark, its cables gathered beneath the table for Dana’s arrival.
She glanced between Arnold, Chuck, and Cheryl.
“Well, I guess we should get started.”