Page 83 of High Density

“Unless…it wasn’t so much aboutwhatJD might see, butwho,” Stephanie contributes. “Someone who would’ve stood out, who was out of place.”

“Who wasn’t where they were supposed to be,” Ewing fills in.

It would have to have been someone I know. I immediately try to think of who that might be, but those options are endless. I live in this town—I do my groceries here, work here, get my hair cut—I interact with people on a daily basis who would recognize me. It could’ve been anyone.

A phone rings, and Stephanie reaches for her pocket.

“Excuse me a minute,” she indicates, walking toward the front door and stepping outside.

“Hey,” Ewing gets my attention, “We’re doing our job. Not an easy job and even harder when you have to look at people you know and like. Three women are dead, maybe four, and we can’t afford to dismiss any leads, just because we think you’re a good guy. Gotta follow the evidence.”

I nod. I get what he’s saying, even though it doesn’t make being on this side of the equation any more comfortable.

I don’t get a chance to respond when Stephanie comes barging in, her eyes on the sheriff.

“That was Agent Furstner, I’ve gotta get back to Kalispell. Jericho has asked to talk to me, claims he has information on the murders. He wants to make a deal.”

“Of course he does,” Ewing replies. “Do you believe him?”

The agent shrugs. “I don’t know, he may be yanking my chain, but I won’t know for sure until I talk to him. You’ve got things handled here?”

Ewing nods. “Call me with any updates.”

“Same goes,” she answers him before turning to me.

She opens her mouth to say something but appears to change her mind, shaking her head. Then she raises her hand before turning on her heel and heading out the door.

When she’s gone, I turn to Ewing.

“Is anybody looking for Britt?”

My tone may be a bit sharp, but the past half hour has been a fucking roller coaster and he’s lucky I’m hanging onto my temper. If not for Janey grounding me, I’d have lost it a while ago.

“Of course,” he returns defensively. “I have deputies crawling all over the bar and surrounding area.”

“Did you call Jonas?”

“I plan to, after I’m done here.”

He removes his hat and runs a hand through his hair. He looks like he’s aged ten years in the past few weeks.

As sheriff of Lincoln County, I know the man is stretched thin as it is. Especially since the Libby Police Department—which was a tiny department to begin with—has become virtually nonexistent in recent years. It’s all on Ewing’s shoulders, and the sheriff’s department isn’t really equipped to handle crimes like drug trafficking or the murders of those women. Even more so now, with his only detective—Dan’s wife, Sloane— on bed rest and about to pop a baby.

“I’ll get the guys together,” I offer, knowing the best chance Britt has is for the High Mountain Trackers team to get out there as soon as possible.

That is, if she’s still alive.

He rubs his face and squeezes the bridge of his nose, apparently struggling to make a decision.

“Divide and conquer,” I add when he takes too long to respond.

“Fine,” he finally agrees. “Get the team ready, meet up with Deputy Bastian at the bar, and I’ll join you when I’m done here.”

I turn to Janey—who has been pretty quiet since her passionate defense of me—and cup her face.

“I’ll be in touch,” I promise, dropping a kiss on her lips. “Be careful.”

She nods. “Go. Find her.”

---