“Fuck off and mind your own business.”
He shrugs and turns back to his screen. “It’s cute, but Doc doesn’t strike me as particularly angelic,” he comments.
“Avenging angel,” I clarify, grinning at the image of Janey stepping in front of me as she went off on Ewing and Kramer this morning.
“That makes more sense,” Jackson concedes.
“Anything?”
I turn my head to find the sheriff behind us.
He stopped by earlier this morning, indicating he was off to run down some leads but would be back to check on progress. Unfortunately, we have little to report. We’ve had to replenish batteries for the Matrice once already, and are currently providing aerial support for the dog team.
Wolff radioed in about ten minutes ago, one of Jillian’s dogs seemed suddenly hot on a trail. Unfortunately, the dog in question is Emo. That news settled heavy on my shoulders.
“Jillian’s cadaver dog picked up on a scent. Not sure what it is yet, but we’re following with the drone.”
I point at the screen where we can see flashes of yellow popping in and out of the tree cover. The safety vests Jillian and her dogs wear when they’re on the job.
“Do we know anything more?” I turn the question on him. “Heard from Stephanie?”
Jackson suddenly pays attention at the mention of the agent’s name, confirming what I suspected.
“Not a peep. I suspect Jericho is yanking her chain and this is a pitiful attempt at controlling his fate. Other than that, I just wasted almost two and a half hours tracking down Doc Richards’s intern without success.”
“Logan?”
He confirms with a nod. “Councilman Osborne wasn’t too pleased I showed up at his house looking to speak to his son, so that was half an hour of him insisting I tell him exactly what this was about, and me reminding him his son is a legal adult, while trying not to plant my fist in the man’s face. The rest of the timeI drove around to all the locations his mother finally listed as places I might be able to find the kid. I finally gave up. I’ll catch him back at the clinic this afternoon.”
I wouldn’t have had the patience to deal with difficult parents, which is why the High Mountain Trackers is a much better fit for me than any kind of law enforcement.
Something niggles at me though. Maybe it’s the fact Logan’s father serves on the same council as Phil Jericho. They’re colleagues at the very least. Probably just a coincidence, Libby is a relatively small town and it isn’t hard to find connections between people. Or maybe it’s that despite the appearance of being a nice guy, Logan is just another typical, spoiled rich kid like the ones I grew up with, wearing designer jeans and snakeskin boots while the rest of us walk around in worn out hand-me-downs.
Snakeskin boots.The memory is suddenly clear as day.
Just as I’m about to share it with Ewing, his phone rings.
“What’ve you got?”
I watch his face change as he listens to whoever is on the other side, and I get an unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach.
When his eyes turn to me, I already know the news is bad.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Janey
“Some of theseposts need replacing too.”
I’m out here showing the handyman, who was able to come in for a few hours today, where the fence needs fixing.
“I know,” I tell him. “There’s a bunch in that pile of lumber behind the barn they dropped off earlier.”
“Good.”
He nods, giving the rotting post a final shake and marking it with a spray can, before moving on to the next one.
It’s a bit silly for me to follow him around the entire perimeter. I may as well head back to the clinic, I need to give my leg a break because it’s starting to ache. I’ve been on my feet too much already today.