Page 25 of Shelter for Sharla

Well, shit. That’s when the funeral is, Carter groused internally. He’d forgotten that someone had tried to call while he was talking to Glen. If he had to, he could get one of the other guys to pick Cruz up. There was no doubt in his mind that the agent would be flying into Nashville. There sure as hell wasn’t any other way for him to get to Cadiz. “Okay. Thanks. I may need you to go pick him up. I’m going to TamaraKent’s funeral Wednesday afternoon.”

“You’re going to her funeral?” He could hear the disbelief in Watson’s voice.

“Yes. I’m going.”

“Don’t you think that’s?”

“None of your business, Watson. I think it’s none of your business,” he said, keeping his voice measured but firm.

“Yes, sir. None of my business.”

“You know, deputy, if there’s anything I’ve tried to teach all of you through the years, it’s to have some compassion for the people we serve. Have you learned anything at all about that?”

“Yes, sir. I have. And I try to. Have compassion for them, that is. Like Mrs.Davis.”

Well, now I feel like shit, Carter’s brain scolded. “Yes. You do. I’m sorry, Justin. It’s just that this whole thing is really eating away at me, and I know I’m distracted and acting a little weird, but I?”

“Don’t worry about it. Really. You know I respect your decision to do this. If you feel you need to be there, that’s your business. I couldn’t do it, but I’m half the man you are.”

Carter almost choked. Sometimes he forgot that the younger officers looked up to him. He thought of them as coworkers, but they thought of him as their leader. They were true professionals, and that designation, leader of their team, was a big ticket to fill. He was grateful for them, for their loyalty and hard work, and he neglected to tell them often enough. “I’m just a guy trying to do a job, Justin, but thank you. I respect all of you, and I’m sorry I don’t tell you often enough. Thanks for holding down the fort this morning. Is there anything you know of that I need to address?”

“I… think JudgeMichaels is coming over here.”

“Oh, shit. About Edwards?” Watson nodded. “Fuck it all. Okay. Thanks for warning me. If I were you, I’d make myself scarce before he gets here.”

“Roger that, sheriff. I’m gone. Think I’ll patrol out in the south end of the county today. Nobody else is out there.”

“Sounds good. Be safe out there,” he warned Justin as the younger man strode out the door. He was thankful the worst thing that had ever happened to one of his deputies was being injured in a crash, and even then it wasn’t severe. Thinking about how the KSP troopers had felt when they heard about Palmer was downright painful.

He spent the next thirty minutes arguing with JudgeMichaels, who insisted he fire Edwards. He argued against it, but the judge made a compelling argument, and Carter knew it would help him straighten out the rookie deputy. Edwards wasn’t bad, just sloppy, and there was no room for sloppy in their department. Zero.

As soon as Graham came with the paperwork to prove the engine block they’d seized was his, Carter got busy. There was something he wanted to check out, and it might be something Livingston could help with when he arrived. He shot a quick text to Sharla:Tamara’s dad’s robbery. Where and when?

He’d almost decided she couldn’t answer because of work when his phone pinged:O’Fallon,MO. Ten years ago in June.

Thx.Exactly what he needed. He searched the web for the name of the local newspaper. “This is SheriffCarter Melton from TriggCounty, Kentucky. Who do I need to speak to for copies of archived papers?”

“Hold on one moment and I’ll connect you.”

“Thanks.” Carter sat through what had to be the worst hold music rendition of PinkFloyd’s “The Wall” he hoped to never hear again.

“Archives,” a voice said, and he said a silent prayer of thanks that the horrible music was gone. After he’d told the woman who he was and what he wanted, he was grateful to hear her say, “Everything’s on our computer now, and it’s all keyword referenced. We give out complimentary subscriptions to members of the media and law enforcement. Let me set you up an account.”

Five minutes and much thanks later, Carter sat in front of his computer, reading about the robbery. It reallywasbotched, almost too badly screwed up to be accidental. He read every article, from the account of the robbery itself, to the clearing of the officer who’d shot Taliq Kent, and on into the arrests, trials, and sentencing of the two men who’d been with him, BrandonEstevez and SeanMcCutchen. That gave him their names, and that was precisely what he was looking for.

One check on the Bureauof Prison’s website found them both housed at the federal high security prison in PenningtonGap, Virginia. That was a six-hour drive unless he could find somebody who’d fly him, but he definitely wanted to talk to those two. For reasons he couldn’t name, he wanted to know more about Tamara’s parents. Sharla could fill him in on Imogen, but she seemed to know little about Taliq. The couple had lived outside St.Louis when he died, but that was no guarantee his family was from there, and Carter wanted to know more about them too. Any information, no matter how seemingly insignificant, could help?any.

After all, you’d never know if a rock was hiding a diamond unless you turned it over, and Carter was all about turning over stones.

* * *

“Put on something nice.Not dressy, just casual, but nice.”

“Why?”

“You ask too many questions!” Carter said and laughed.

“Oh, I do, do I? Okay. Casual dress it is. When?”

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