“And?”
“He’s in my jail.”
The corner of my mouth twitched. She was fitting in, even if she didn’t see it yet. “You’ll make enemies fast if you keep locking up the good ol’ boys around here.”
“Then they can add me to their list.” Lane kicked off her boots and dropped beside me on the couch. “I didn’t come up here to make friends, Jason. I came to keep people safe.”
Her words dug under my skin, because that was the same reason I came here too. The same reason I kept my weapons cleaned and my instincts sharp, even though I promised her we’d build a normal life.
The problem was, normal always had a bad seed growing nearby.
I brushed a strand of hair from her face. “This mountain doesn’t know it yet, but you’re the best thing that’s happened to it.”
She smirked. “Even if I teach half the women here how to kick their husbands’ asses?”
“Especially then.”
I smirked, putting my gun in my holster. I was dressed in my jeans and my holster from my FBI days. I didn’t like the Sheriff's uniform. So I didn’t wear it, but I did wear the badge, so people knew who I was.
27
Lane
The morning light poured across Main Street as I locked up my cruiser outside the diner. I’d barely made it through the door when a shadow darted across the lot and nearly ran me over.
“Agent Brewer?”
I corrected her automatically. “Deputy. Just Lane now.”
The girl couldn’t have been more than sixteen. Dark hair pulled in a messy ponytail, skinny arms hugged tight to her chest. Her eyes flicked over her shoulder like she expected someone to drag her back.
“You gotta help my friend,” she whispered.
My cop radar sharpened. “What’s your name?”
“Kayla.” Her lip trembled. “I don’t know who else to tell. Everybody thinks I’m making it up, but I know I’m not. Something’s wrong.”
I guided her to a bench outside the diner. “Start from the top.”
She twisted the hem of her hoodie. “My friend Marcie. She hasn’t been the same since she started seeing this guy. He’s older, like—way older. He picks her up after school, but nevercomes inside. And last night she texted me that she was scared. Then her phone went dead.”
My stomach tightened. I’d heard this song before, too many times. Older guy. Isolated girl. Fear.
“Kayla,” I said gently, “you did the right thing telling me.”
Her eyes filled. “Will you…will you find her? Please? Nobody listens to me, but you will, right?”
I crouched in front of her, looking her straight in the eye. “I’ll find her. I promise.”
Jason’s voice echoed in my head—This mountain doesn’t know it yet, but you’re the best thing that’s happened to it.
I wasn’t sure about that. But I knew one thing for damn sure—whoever thought they could hurt young girls on my mountain was about to find out I wasn’t FBI anymore. I was worse.
I was home. This was now my mountain.
28
Lane