Page 12 of Warrant
“Uh.” I glanced at the tools and sandwich again, then back at her. “Hey. I’m Sheriff Zimmerman.”
“Oh.” She blinked at me, a quizzical smile tilting her lips.
“The Rice family is going to be coming in to do an identification,” I told her. One of my deputies had been on scene when the coroner had come to get the boy’s body.
“Oh. Okay. Let me go get him ready.” Her voice was almost…musical. She wasn’t at all what I expected, but despite the high school goth girl vibes, her casual soft demeanor was setting me at ease. It was weird.
I gave Harlow a look as the woman disappeared into the next room.
“That’s Raeleen. Everyone calls her Rae. She’s the best,” Harlow said with a sad smile.
“She’s…yeah.” I didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t even that she was eating inside a morgue that threw me. Cops ate in situations that most people would think were really strange.
Back home one of the deputies, Freddy Wilson, had pulled over a vehicle, gotten the call from dispatch that it was stolen a minute later and stepped out to arrest the driver with both sandwich and gun in hand. Never dropped the Reuben. Kept eating after he had the guy locked up in the back of his cruiser.
No. It wasn’t even that, though I wasn’t sure dead bodies and food was something I’d be comfortable mixing. It was just her overall demeanor. She was like a little doll. Black long hair, pulled back from her face, black lacy dress, white lab coat hung up nearby, and this soft, serene, emotionless look on her face. It was just throwing me for a loop. That, and I just had the distinct feeling that she shared an inside joke…with the corpses. Like I might find her whispering to them.
There wasn’t much time to speak with either Harlow or Rae though, because the outside door to the morgue burst open and a pair of panicked, grief-stricken parents rushed into the outer hallway. I stepped out—they didn’t need to see this room of death—and tried to steel myself for what is always one of the worst days of my life. When I had to give anyone the news that their loved one had passed away.
The grieving wail of this mother was going to stick with me for the rest of my life. She collapsed into her husband’s arms, sobbing, and I wished I could make it better. Fix it somehow. All I could do was give her the justice of putting her son’s killer behind bars. It wouldn’t be enough.
Some days the job just sucked.
With Harlow and Rae’s help the parents were taken into a viewing room—Rae also operated the town’s only funeral home—and they were able to give me the identification I needed and say a tearful goodbye to their son. My heart broke apart inside my chest. Their family would never be the same. This wasn’t my town yet, but that didn’t mean that it couldn’t be. That itwouldn’tbe. These people would bemine. And I vowed to do everything in my power to keep them safe, happy, and alive.
CHAPTER 5
Warrant
News traveled fast in Sentinel. Just like in any small town. A local teen had been killed this morning in a hit and run. Everyone knew Mary and Jay Rice. They were good people. Their kids were good kids.
“Have they caught the fucker?” Cypher asked, looking around our table. We were in church.
“Yeah,” I answered. “Owen said the new sheriff picked him up about an hour after it happened. It was some fucker from out of town. Stopped long enough to get wasted then tried to keep driving through to Cheyenne.”
“Too bad. Denison woulda still been in bed and we could have handled it,” Scythe muttered. There was murder in his eyes.
I couldn’t blame him. We loved the people of this town. And most loved us. They knew they’d always have someone to turn to if they needed help.
“Things are going to change with a new sheriff in town,” Cypher told us. “We’re going to need to take a step back on some things.” He eyed his vice president when Scythe started to speak. “I said some. Not everything.”
Scythe just shrugged.
“It’s probably better this way,” he said with a sigh. “She does her job right and the people will have two lines of defense. Something they haven’t had in a long time.” He rubbed his beard. “We’ll see how she does.”
“We going to the funeral?” Demo asked.
“Yes.” Cypher nodded. “We’ll go as a group. Show of solidarity.”
“I’ll get some flowers sent over to the family,” Jury offered. “Just watched Brandon play in last week’s baseball game.” He shook his head.
“That’s a good plan,” Cypher said. “Put it on the company card. Get something nice from all of us.”
Everyone was quiet for a time and Cypher sighed. “It’s slow right now. Let’s just make our presence known around town. Show of force. Let people know we’re here if they need us.”
“We expecting any kind of trouble?” Cynic asked, tilting his head.
“Guy’s some big shot bank CEO from Cheyenne,” Glitch offered up. “Sheriff might have a fight on her hands with him and whatever lawyer he hires.”
