Page 55 of Her Wild Coast Promise

With a nod, he leads me to a desk in a row partitioned into cubbies with fabric half walls, four on each side, facing each other. Another deputy is working at a cubby at the other end of the cluster, but he doesn’t give us more than a quick glance.

While Hunter grabs a vacant chair, I scan his cubby walls. The left one is adorned with official printouts and bulletins, but the back wall is neatly organized with photos of his family, children, and what looks like their artwork. One is a finger painting shaped like a butterfly, and another is a colorful dot drawing signed,Love you Daddyin primitive kid scratch. My heart just about melts right out of my chest.

“You have a beautiful family,” I say as he slides the extra chair into place.

His proud grin lights up his face. “Thank you.”

We both sit, and the screen saver on Hunter’s computer flashes to life. It’s a picture of a castle rising from a rocky coast.

“Where’s that?” I ask him.

“West coast of Sicily.”

Though he doesn’t offer more, I get the sense there’s plenty. Typical cop. “Okay, I’m working on Seth’s Points for Future Betterment. Can you answer a few questions about the department’s current workload?”

Hunter shifts in his chair, his thick leather tool belt chafing. “I can’t comment on active cases.”

“Of course,” I say.

“All right.” His phone buzzes and he gives the screen a quick glance before flipping it facedown.

I open a new page in my notebook and fish a pen from my bag. “Have you been paired with Peyton Reece on any of your investigations in the past?”

“A few times.”

“Has she been successful?”

“Yep.”

“Last night at the fundraiser, she accused this department of spending too much time on the high-profile cases and not enough being present in the community. What do you think of that?”

Hunter’s mouth tightens in a grimace, then he gives a noncommittal shrug. “It says to me that she’s even less qualified to be sheriff. If we don’t solve these murders, we’re going to see more of them.”

“Do you feel this department has the resources to tackle these bigger cases?”

Hunter’s eyes narrow for a split second, like he’s re-evaluating my intentions. “Seth and I are part of a task force with representatives from several other agencies, but I hope you see that as a source of strength rather than us trying to cover our weaknesses.”

“It’s not about what I think.” I glance up from my notes. “Have you participated in a task force before?”

“This is my first official one.”

I pause.Official one? What does that mean?“Let’s fast forward two years. You’ve solved the murders and the bad guys are behind bars. What do you think this valley needs to keep the peace?”

“We need a marine unit. The Coast Guard is too far away in an emergency. We need more manpower. Our valley is growing and that is stretching us thinner each year. Chief Kauffman asked for a budget increase specifically for this reason, but he’s been denied every time.” Hunter shakes his head. “I’m sure Seth has shared with you how much overtime we’re burning, just to fill staffing shortages. That gets expensive. Plus, it’ll take a toll on morale. If we don’t provide a decent quality of life for our staff by giving them reliable time off, some of them will quit, making the problem worse.”

I’m writing so fast my handwriting looks like chicken scratch. Hopefully I’ll be able to make sense of it later.

“We need a school safety squad,” Hunter continues. “A dedicated team of officers to be in the schools. Not only for safety, but so kids see us as an ally or resource instead of a threat. Two of our murder victims attended McKenzie Valley High.”

His jaw tenses, then he huffs a hard breath. “Somehow, we failed them both.”

“I see you’re working hard to find justice for these victims.” I send him a compassionate smile. “You’re doing the best you can.”

“We need to do better,” he says in a firm voice. “Starting with Seth Dalton as sheriff.”

“Leave that part to me,” I say.

His phone buzzes again, but this time, when he checks it, his face tenses.

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