CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
By ten-thirty, the sheriff’s station had settled into its night rhythm.
The front office remained open, but the daytime traffic had gone. Phones rang less often. Boots crossed the corridor at longer intervals. Somewhere beyond the briefing room, a deputy laughed once and then lowered the volume when the sound carried.
Selena sat at the end of the table with her laptop open and the HearthSpace warrant application displayed on-screen. The Commonwealth’s Attorney had submitted it to the on-call circuit judge hours earlier. Since then, the status had remained unchanged.
Urgent Review Pending.
The words almost seemed contradictory. But Selena understood. A misused warrant could blow an entire case.
Across from her, Kelly worked through access times supplied by the regional internet provider.
Three columns listed dates, account numbers, assigned IP addresses, and connections to HearthSpace servers.
The information proved the victims had used the service.
It did not reveal usernames, private communities, or messages.
The murder board waited behind them.
Karen Sloane. Ruth Keller. Linda Mercer.
Their photographs seemed to hold the room in judgment.
Selena checked her email again. Nothing.
Connor stood near the coffee machine, reading a report from the deputies who had searched the land around the barn where Linda’s body was found.
Matt’s team had checked the tire impressions and partial footwear marks, but the ground had been disturbed by weather, wildlife, and old farm traffic.
No result had yet separated the killer from everyone else who had used the track, not even the tracks Connor had photographed himself.
Connor closed the report. “We should call it a night.”
Selena glanced at the time in the corner of her screen. “The judge could approve the warrant any minute.”
“We’ve said that for the last two hours.”
Kelly checked the service records again.
“Even if it arrives tonight, HearthSpace’s compliance team won’t produce anything immediately.
They’ll still have to match the IP addresses to accounts and collect the approved records.
The request covers account metadata correlated to the victims’ exact connection times, shared private-group memberships, and communications only for accounts that meet the approved correlation criteria. ”
Selena knew both of them were right. The request covered the victims’ login records, associated usernames, private-group memberships, and communications within the approved date range.
The judge had returned the first version for narrower correlation windows and tighter limits on the records HearthSpace could produce.
Revising it had cost them hours, but pushing for broader access would only risk another rejection.
Every delay gave the killer time to choose someone else.
“And the night shift can call us if it comes through.” Connor placed the report on the table. “We’ve been here since this morning.”
Kelly removed her glasses and rubbed both temples. “I wouldn’t mind the rest after staring at this screen all day.”
Selena wanted to argue. The three photographs made rest feel undeserved, but another hour would not force a judge to move faster.
“All right,” she said. “We’ll start again early.”
Kelly saved her work. Connor switched off the display beside the murder board, leaving the victims’ photographs under the softer wall lights.
They gathered their coats and files, then crossed the station together.
Cheryl had gone home. A younger dispatcher sat at the front desk with a headset over one ear and a paperback open beside the console.
Two night deputies were reviewing patrol assignments near the entrance.
Connor stopped to remind them that any message from the circuit court or HearthSpace’s legal department required an immediate call.
Outside, the cold had sharpened.
The rain from earlier had left the parking lot wet, and wind pushed loose leaves around the county vehicles. Connor walked toward his SUV while Selena unlocked her sedan. Kelly opened the passenger door and placed her bag on the floor.
Connor paused beside his vehicle.
“Aw, look at you two,” he called. “Going back to your motel together.”
Selena rested one arm on the roof of the sedan. “I’m the designated driver. This one was up last night putting shots away with Eric Wilson.”
Kelly stopped halfway into the car. “I had a few drinks. I wasn’t running a saloon.”
Connor’s mouth lifted. “Watch that one. Eric used to be fast with the ladies.”
“I can handle myself, thanks,” Kelly said.
“I’m sure you can.”
Connor’s phone sounded.
The change in him came before he read the screen. His shoulders tightened. The faint humor disappeared as he turned slightly away from them.
Selena watched him open the message.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Connor locked the screen. “Yeah. I just have to take care of something.”
“What is it?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
His reply came too quickly. Connor opened the SUV and climbed in.
“Goodnight,” he said through the open door.
The engine started. He reversed from the space before Selena could press him again, then drove toward the exit.
Kelly followed the taillights until they vanished behind the building.
“What was that about?”
“I don’t know.” Selena got behind the wheel. “But I have a bad feeling about it.”
*
The Wilson Motel sign threw red light across the empty spaces nearest reception.
Selena pulled up outside Kelly’s room. Eric’s office television glowed behind the blinds, though the volume had been reduced to a murmur. Kelly collected her bag and opened the door.
“See you in the morning,” she said.
“Seven-thirty.”
Kelly stepped out. Selena remained behind the wheel.
At the room door, Kelly turned. “You’re not coming?”
“No. I have to do something.”
Kelly shifted the strap of the bag higher on her shoulder. “I can see why you and Connor got married. You’re both as cryptic as each other.”
Selena started the engine. “Goodnight, Kelly.”
“Goodnight.”
The sedan rolled out of the lot.
A message from Jessie had arrived that afternoon while Selena was arguing over language for the warrant.
Hank’s tonight if you can. Got something to show you.
Selena had replied that she might be late. Jessie had answered with a photograph of the chip resting in her palm.
One year.
The invitation had remained in Selena’s mind through the evening, crowded by HearthSpace, murder records, and Connor’s reaction to the message on his phone.
She considered following his SUV. Connor knew her car and would notice within minutes.
Seeing Jessie felt more useful than chasing him through Harlan County without knowing where he was headed.
After a text confirmed Jessie was at the diner, a ten-minute drive later brought the red neon outline of Hank's Red Hot Diner into focus beyond a line of old pine trees.
Only three vehicles occupied the lot at this hour. The main sign had been switched off, but light remained in the front windows. Selena parked near the entrance.
The bell above the door rang as she went inside.
Red vinyl booths lined the windows. Chrome table edges reflected the remaining lights above the counter. Half the stools had been turned upside down, and the checked floor near the kitchen shone from a recent mop. A server carried a tub of condiments toward the back.
Hank Duggan stood behind the counter with a towel over one shoulder. White hair lay thin across his scalp. When he moved toward the register, his left leg followed a fraction behind the right.
“I thought you might show up,” he said.
“Sorry it’s so late.”
“The kitchen’s winding down, but I can do you some waffles and ice cream.”
Selena removed her coat. “Thanks, Hank. That sounds great.”
He nodded toward the window. “Jessie’s over in your favorite spot.”
The booth had belonged to the three of them before any of them understood how long a life could carry choices made in adolescence. Selena, Jessie, and Connor had occupied it often enough that Hank once threatened to charge rent.
Jessie sat alone now, both hands around a pale ceramic cup.
Blue hair framed the shaved section above one ear. A small silver stud caught the light at the side of her nose. Bracelets covered one wrist, and the sleeve of a black sweater had been pushed to the elbow.
Selena approached the table. “Pretty late for coffee.”
Jessie rose and wrapped both arms around her. “It’s chamomile tea.”
“That sounds responsible.”
“Don’t ruin the moment by sounding surprised.”
They sat opposite each other.
Jessie reached into a pocket and placed a round chip on the table. The number ONE YEAR was stamped across the center.
Selena picked it up carefully. “That’s amazing, Jessie.”
"Yeah." Jessie traced the edge of the cup. "I struggle sometimes, but I feel good knowing I haven't used it for that long. A full year sounds different from eleven months and twenty-nine days."
“It should.” Selena returned the chip. “You know I’m always here if you need me.”
“I know.”
Jessie turned the chip over. “There were nights I didn’t think I’d make it to morning without calling somebody I shouldn’t. Connor slept on my couch more than once because I told him I was fine, and he knew I was lying.”
“That sounds like him.”
“He never made a speech about it. He just showed up with bad coffee and stayed.”
Selena pictured Connor sitting awake in Jessie’s living room, refusing to leave because he had learned when silence meant danger.
“You did the hard part,” Selena said.
Jessie nodded. “I’m still doing it.”
“You are. And you’re doing well.”
Hank arrived carrying a plate piled with waffles, two scoops of vanilla ice cream, and a scattering of sliced strawberries.
Jessie leaned closer. “Oh, that looks good.”
Selena smiled. “Can we have a second fork?”
Hank turned, reached behind the counter, and took one from a clean tray. “I knew that was coming.”
He placed it beside Jessie. “Enjoy, ladies.”
Jessie cut into one corner before Selena had finished pouring syrup.
“How’s the case going?” she asked.
Selena shook her head. “It’s a difficult one. Three women, all close to our age, and all of them went to Elmsview High.”
“I heard. It’s terrible.”
“Your brother says we need to be careful because we fit the target demographic.”
Jessie rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry. He’s already told me he doesn’t want me walking around at night by myself.”
“And what did you say to that?”
“I told him to scram.”
Selena laughed and ate a spoonful of melting ice cream. “I bet he loved that.”
“Nah, but we’re lucky to have him looking out for us.”
Selena set down her fork. “Who’s looking out for him?”
Jessie’s smile faded. “What do you mean?”
“Has Connor ever mentioned a man named Walton Morimer?”
“No. Why?”
The answer came without hesitation.
Selena glanced toward the counter. Hank was speaking to the server near the kitchen, well beyond hearing. No one else was near.
The details belonged in a case file, not a diner, but Jessie needed enough context to recognize danger. She knew it was a mistake. Deep down, she knew it. But this was Jessie. This was Connor. God, she felt compromised.
After some hesitation, she looked at Jessie. “Morimer runs most of the organized crime in this county,” Selena said. “Gambling, stolen goods, drugs, protection. The FBI has been investigating him for years.”
Jessie sat back. “What does that have to do with Connor?”
“I… I shouldn’t tell you… But I’m worried. Morimer helped him during the last case.”
“What kind of help?”
Selena lowered her voice. “He gave Connor information and had his people locate someone we were searching for.”
Jessie studied her. “Let me guess. Victor Schmidt’s death?”
“Yes.”
“Please tell me Connor didn’t do anything pigheaded. I know he was really cut up about Victor.”
“He paid Morimer for information that might lead him to Victor’s killer.”
Jessie’s fingers closed around the poker chip. “He paid him?”
“Six thousand dollars.”
“Jesus, Connor.”
“The money isn’t the part that worries me most. Morimer made it clear he considered the arrangement the beginning of a debt. The money was just to get things going. The real payback is yet to be decided. Morimer will think he can make Connor do things for him. A compromised sheriff is valuable.”
Jessie glanced toward the windows as though Connor might appear outside.
“And now you’re worried this Mortimer will come to collect?”
“Morimer.”
“Whatever his name is.”
“Yes.”
“What kind of favor would he ask?”
“I don’t know. Connor hasn’t said Morimer contacted him.” Selena thought of the phone in Connor’s hand and the way he had left the station. “I don’t want to worry you. I just want you to know, in case Connor says anything or you think he’s under pressure. Please let me know.”
Jessie’s thumb moved around the chip’s raised edge.
“All right,” she said. “I will.”
“Hopefully it’s nothing.”
Jessie took another bite of waffle, though some of the earlier pleasure had gone from it.
After a moment, she said, “Connor told me you’re working with Kelly Voss.”
Selena gave a quiet groan. “Don’t remind me.”
“I remember that bitch.”
“Jessie...”
“What? That girl was a menace in high school, Selena. A grade-A asshole.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“A long time doesn’t make it imaginary.”
Selena cut another piece from the waffle. “Aren’t you supposed to be forgiving and peaceful with all those yoga classes you’ve been taking?”
“That only stretches so far.”
The answer drew a smile from Selena despite herself.
Jessie pointed the fork toward her. “What’s she like now?”
“It’s only been a couple of days, but she seems like a capable agent.”
“And that annoys you.”
Selena exhaled. “A little.”
“Why?”
“I suppose you think school bullies will end up washed up, and the people they hurt get rewarded for being kinder.” Selena moved the syrup bottle away from the edge of the table. “But here we are, and Kelly and I have the same rank in the FBI. Who would’ve seen that coming?”
“Has she apologized?”
“Yes.”
Jessie waited.
Selena watched the ice cream soften into the squares of the waffle. “It’s hard to forget all of that, even after this long.”
“I know.”
“She acts as if she understands what she did. Maybe she does.”
“Then maybe you should try to get past it.”
Selena gave her a tired smile. “Yeah. I should. I should try.”
Jessie smiled back. “What you should do and what you want to do are often two different things.”
Outside, the diner lot lay under a deep black sky. Wind moved the branches along the roadside, and the glass reflected the booth more clearly than the world beyond it.
Selena saw Jessie across from her, blue hair bright against the dark window. Her own reflection sat beside Jessie’s, older and more guarded than the girls who had once crowded into the same booth with Connor, sharing fries and planning lives none of them would live.
For a moment, memory placed them there again.
Somewhere inside, they still were.