Page 105 of South of Nowhere

What a time…

Noah’s flood, a nearly dead family, a missing girl from an overturned Camaro, a shot-up disaster response worker and now a horrific explosion at a mine. And not down a shaft, which had happened once before.

But in an office.

Awful…

A terrible accident.

Or a terrible murder.

Hanlon Tolifson was reflecting that the CHP was darn well going tohaveto pry investigators and Crime Scene loose and get them down here from the Olechu barracks.

Sitting in the command post, he was presently on hold, waiting for a captain to come back on the line and respond to his request.

As he waited, he reviewed his performance during the Test so far.

And was satisfied. He gave himself a solid B.

This was important.

Confirming, for certain, that he would take on the job of police chief of the incorporated village of Hinowah, California.

He liked the work.

Liked the puzzle solving, the protecting the innocent. The respect.

And that gun thing too. He liked the way it sat on his hip, how it felt in his hand, the idea it was always there…

Clint Eastwood, Kevin Costner,Yellowstone.

The command post was now less wet but more breezy, a wind coming up from the north, blowing in the direction of the Never Summer’s flow. He occasionally peeked out, looking south, feeling that creepy sensation on the back of his neck at the thought that Eduardo Gutiérrez’s shooter—the man nicknamed Bear—was still free.

Colter Shaw was here, along with his sister, both on their phones. Colter had said they didn’t need to be concerned with Fiona Lavelle. She was all right, but not to say anything to her fiancé, if he called. He had not gone into details. But that was okay with him. One less thing to worry about.

Sergeant Tamara Olsen was on the other side of the levee with her two corporals, Williams and McPherson. Could they get those bomb curtains here soon?

All of that to think about.

Ah, Gerard Redding…The sight in Workshop One had been described by Hugh Davies, the mining company’s operations manager, as “unimaginable.” There came muffled sounds after that. And he believed Davies was crying. Then, likely, puking.

Debi Starr and TC McGuire were present at the mine, taping it off as a crime scene and making sure people stayed clear.

“Mayor?” CHP Captain Diego Rivera was back on the line. “Okay. Here’s what I can do. I’m getting our bomb squad people in from Sacramento. And two Major Crimes folks, one of the rotating teams. They’re outta Oakland.”

Neither very close.

“Uh-huh. And I’m just kind of wondering when.”

“I told them to prioritize it.”

“Okay. But, like I said, I’m just kind of wondering when.”

“Hold on. It’s Sacramento.”

No click. Just silence. His eyes went to Dorion Shaw. Tolifson had long ago retired “DRB,” as being not only disrespectful but unfair considering that her iron-lady approach was saving lives. He decided that as chief he would need a bit more of that edge, like her. More police stuff to work on. Like his quick draw and boning up on the California Penal Code.

Rivera was back. “Five, six hours. Probably less.”

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