Page 45 of All the Missing Pieces

I nodded. Each deputy was assigned a cold case to go over and investigate. It helped teach them investigative skills, and there were times when they turned up new evidence that helped bring the perpetrators to justice.

“I went back there, and everything looked normal,” Dawson went on.

“The door was closed and locked?” I asked.

He frowned. “I think so. I mean, I know it was shut, but I didn’t test the lock. I just input my code like normal and then opened it.”

I’d need to have our evidence techs test for tampering. “Then what happened?”

Dawson swallowed, his throat working with the action. “I went back into the stacks, and I heard someone. I didn’t think anything of it. Just called out that I was in there, so I didn’t freak anyone out. That place can be creepy as hell.”

I wanted to smile because I agreed. It wasn’t frequented by officers, and it could be a dusty, cavernous space. “Did they answer?” I asked.

Dawson shook his head. “Not a word. Everything went quiet. Seemed off, so I started searching row by row. When I rounded one of the shelving units, someone clocked me. I didn’t even see them.”

Gene moved in, gesturing to the side of Dawson’s head. “He’s got a decent gash here that’ll probably need stitches. I’d guess he got hit with something substantial. Maybe a Maglite or something similar.”

“Go get that injury checked out,” I ordered.

“Sheriff—” Dawson started.

“No arguments,” I said, pinning him with a hard stare. “You’re not back on the job without medical clearance.”

Dawson slumped against the gurney.

“Thanks, Colt,” Gene said, lips twitching. “He sure as hell wasn’t going to listen to me.”

I gave them both a wave as I started into the station. That was youth for you. Thinking they were invincible until the world proved otherwise. An officer at the front desk was on the phone but pointed me toward the back hall.

The station had been added on to over the years, so it had a mazelike feel. The two doors that led off the reception area didn’t have locks, but there was always someone manning the desk. If they went on break, they had to get a replacement. So in theory no one should’ve gotten past this area.

I pushed open the door to the right of the desk and headed toward the sound of voices. The hallway had a few windows, but they didn’t open. The only other point of entry was a fire door that would’ve set off a deafening alarm.

As I reached the door to the cold storage area, I found our two evidence techs already at work. I shouldn’t have been surprised since my second-in-command was already at the helm. She glanced up at me from where she was crouched next to our tech expert. “Colt.”

“What do we have?”

She pushed to her feet, stretching up to her full height, which was all of five foot two. But if there was one thing Sophie Ryan didn’t let get in her way, it was her height. I’d seen her put men three times her size down before I could blink.

“As far as Hamm can tell, the break-in happened here.” Ryan gestured to the fire door. “They had some sort of tech that took the fire alarm offline. Then they used an alarm breaker to access the evidence locker.”

“What about the cameras outside?” I knew we had at least two angles on this back door just in case.

Ryan shook her head, frustration making a home in her expression. “Spray paint. Whoever broke in approached each camera from the side and covered the lens with black paint.”

I cursed. None of this fit. High-tech crimes weren’t a staple in Shady Cove. I couldn’t think of a single incident where things like alarm breakers had been used. And for what?

“Can you tell what cases were accessed?” I asked.

Ryan was quiet for a moment, her green eyes going blank. “I’ll show you.”

Her lack of reaction had me on high alert as I followed her into the evidence locker. We were careful to avoid areas where techs were working, but it didn’t take long to find the spot that had been targeted. Files had been upended and tagged evidence bags spilled out onto the floor.

My gut twisted. All of these cases would be impacted now. Possibly every case in this lockup. Because a defense attorney would argue that an intruder had had access to the area. And they’d be right.

My back teeth ground together as I took in the items sprawled out over the linoleum. Then I froze. There were files from a suspicious overdose. More from a hit-and-run. But in the center of it all were the files from Emerson’s case.

All the details about her abduction were spilled out over the floor like trash. Fury lit in my veins. I knew one person who desperately wanted access to those files. I also knew that two days ago, a deputy had given her a heavily redacted copy of them.

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