Page 39 of Rules

Three days after finding Sophia's body, I stand in the wreckage of what used to be the Whispering Pines Pharmacy. The fourth break-in this week, and this one happened despite the owner installing a security system only yesterday. Broken bottles crunch under my boots as I move through the ransacked aisles. Prescription medications are scattered across the floor, shelving units toppled, the cash register smashed beyond recognition.

"They knew exactly when to hit," Deputy Rogers states, carefully documenting the scene. "Mr. Patel says the alarm never triggered. They cut the backup power and disabled the cellular connection."

"Like they knew he was getting a security system." I mutter, then look at Deputy Rogers, both of us thinking the same thing.

"I'll find out who installed it." She says making a note. "ER doctor says Mr. Patel will be in for at least two days; he's got a nasty concussion and two broken fingers. Doctor said he was lucky the blow to the head wasn't harder."

Lucky. The word tastes bitter. Five business owners hospitalized, one young woman murdered, and not a single solid lead. Some damn sheriff I am.

"Same M.O.?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

"Four men in masks, military precision, excessive violence. No witnesses, no prints." Brooklyn flips through her notes. "No clue if they took any drugs. And with this mess how would anyone ever know."

What are they trying to say? What's the reason? The questions are on a constant loop in my brain.

"Sheriff?" Brooklyn's voice pulls me back. "Holly called, she said you didn't answer. The mayor called a town council emergency meeting at noon."

Fuck! I check my watch, it's nine thirty. Just enough time to finish here and prepare for what will undoubtedly be an uncomfortable two hours of being grilled by frightened council members.

"I figured it was coming." I blew out my breath. "Keep the scene secured. I want forensics to go over every inch." I head toward the door, then pause. "And deputy? Good work. I know we're all running on fumes."

She nods, the dark circles under her eyes matching my own. None of us have slept properly since this all started.

"Holy shit," Deputy John Edwards steps through the swinging door to the still locked and untouched narcotics cases. "This will be a mess to clean up."

"Can you imagine if they have to give an account of each pill bottle?" Deputy Rogers says looking around. We all shook our heads and blew out our breaths.

"I came in to warn you," Rogers looks at me. "We've got a crowd outside. Quite a few that needed to pick up prescriptions today. The mood isn't the greatest and to top it off, the press is here."

"Aww, shit," I said. "First the city council and now the press. Goodie for me." Both of my faithful deputies made faces and wished me luck.

Outside, the crowd was filled with frightened faces, angry murmurs, and cell phones recording my every move. This is new, I'm not used to residents acting this way. The fear is palpable, spreading faster than we can contain it.

"Sheriff Trenton!" A reporter from the county paper rushes forward. "Can you comment on the connection between these break-ins and Sophia Vasquez's murder? Are residents safe in their homes?"

This has nothing to do with homes.

I hold up a hand, mustering my most authoritative tone. "Nothing has happened in anyone's home. We're pursuing all leads. We've spoken to all the business owners and advised them on ways to stay safe. For now, I urge everyone to remain vigilant and report any suspicious activity." I turned to leave then turned back around. "Reporting the truth is the best policy."

"What do you mean by that, Sheriff?" The reporter leaned forward with his phone out.

"I mean just that. You asked me if people were safe in their homes knowing full well that no homes have been involved. Don't scare people like that. It doesn't help. Just report the facts, that's what people need, just the facts." The crowd clapped, a few even cheered.

More questions were called out as I made my way to my vehicle. I ignore them, my mind already on the council meeting. The mayor will want answers I don't have.

Back at the station, Holly hands me a stack of messages as I walk in.

"We need to work on you answering your phone. The governor's office called. Twice. Apparently our illustrious mayor has been calling her. Let's see, Sheriff Lange, the jerk of Jacksoncounty, wants to talk about you needing help. Channel Nine wants an exclusive." She follows me into my office. "And the jewelry on Sophia was definitely from the antique shop robbery. It matches the description and photos."

I drop into my chair, scanning the messages. "Tell the governor's office I'll call back this afternoon. If I need help from Sheriff Lange I'll call him. Which should be about a quarter past never. And absolutely no exclusives."

Holly lingers in the doorway. "You look terrible."

"Thanks."

"When's the last time you slept? Or ate something?"

I wave off her concern. "I'll sleep when we catch these bastards."

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