Page 69 of Shadow Sabotage
“Yep. I know you’ve struggled finding your place here when there’s not a SAR callout to work. I know the rest of the crew gives you a hard time. Some of the townspeople do too.”
I dropped my gaze, embarrassed. “I didn’t know you knew that.”
“Of course I know that. I have eyes—and ears. I’m aware of what goes on with my people.” He leaned forward, giving me an earnest look. “A case like this gives you credibility. You won’t just be the new girl on the job anymore. People will start seeing you like a seasoned officer—your coworkers and townspeople alike. And that’s what you need if you’re going to stay and make a career out of this.”
“I hope so,” I said—though I wondered if I’d ever seemyselflike a seasoned officer.
Or if I even wanted to anymore.
“I hope so too. I know sometimes we get frustrated with each other”—his mouth turned up in a wry smile—“but I care about you, and I want you to succeed in this job.”
“Thank you,” I said as an odd lump formed in my throat.
I hated this. Hated myself for even suspecting him. I knew he cared about me, and he’d been a great boss. Anyone else probably would have fired me for opening my big mouth one too many times. It was so hard to reconcile the good with the fact that he had deliberately withheld information and was now on our suspect list.
He paused again, drumming his fingers on the table. “Can I give you some advice?”
“Of course.”
“There’s more than one way to approach law enforcement. Some people take a hard-line approach. They see everything as black and white. I haven’t known him long enough to know for sure, but I’m guessing Agent Weston is one of those.” He eyed me as if looking for confirmation.
I kept my face neutral. “I don’t think I’ve worked with him long enough to know.”
“Maybe not.” He cleared his throat and continued. “Another reason I paired you with him is because you understand that different circumstances call for different responses. In a small town like this, taking a hard-line approach isn’t always the right way. And in this case, I’d advise you to remember that.”
That sweeping discomfort returned. “I don’t understand.”
He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table and twiddling his thumbs. “Most of us in Wildwood all want the same thing. Peace. Happiness. Freedom. At the end of the day, what we want most is a safe place to raise our kids. My job here is to protect that way of life. To keep the wolves out, so to speak.”
“Sheriff McGrath, what are you trying to say?”
He gave me a friendly smile. “All I’m saying is that you have to know how to differentiate between the good guys and the bad guys. The bad guys are the ones that threaten our way of life here. But the rest of the citizens of Wildwood? They’re the good guys. Sometimes they make mistakes. We all do. But that doesn’t mean they’re bad people.”
I studied him, wondering if he was talking about someone else—or himself.
“Working this case,” he continued, “is more than just a chance to prove you’re a seasoned officer. It’s a chance for you to prove that you care about the citizens of Wildwood. That you’re on their side. That you’re here to protect the good guys.”
“Right…” I agreed, trying to sound more convinced than I felt. Because what was I supposed to be protecting them from?It’s not like we had a serial killer on the loose. The only victim was Katelyn Brown—and she hadn’t even been a Wildwood citizen.
“I’m glad we had this talk,” he said, looking relieved. “Be sure to keep me in the loop.”
“I will,” I said, standing at his dismissal. But my mind was racing.
Was he asking me to protect the people in Wildwood by finding Katelyn’s killer?
Or was he asking me to protecthim?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Claire
When I steppedout of Sheriff McGrath’s office and saw Vance waiting for me in the hallway, the poker face I’d maintained in front of the sheriff collapsed. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, struggling to breathe as the devastation of it all threatened to break me right there.
Vance came to my side and took my arm, supporting me as he guided me through the hallway toward the doors. It was the kind of thing I’d normally push away, insisting I could take care of myself. Instead, I leaned on his strength, let it be an anchor for emotions that battered me like a stormy sea.
When we pushed through the doors into the sunshine, I finally felt able to take a full breath. The tightness in my chest eased.
But Vance didn’t let go.
