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“You focus on getting Pedigo to talk, I’ll handle Sanchez,” Dave replied firmly.
“Got it.” Creed left the office, briefly glancing at Sanchez before grabbing his coat and hat and leaving for the Sheriff’s department. As he arrived and stepped out of his truck, he saw Killian pulling into the parking lot as well.
“Let me talk to him first, Creed,” Killian suggested with a smirk.
“Why?”
“I want to surprise him with you,” Killian explained, clearly enjoying the situation.
Creed chuckled. “Sounds good. Let’s go inside.”
They entered the sheriff’s department and Creed walked up to the front counter. He inwardly groaned when he saw Betty Lou Harper, knowing that she was a sweet woman but also notorious for being one of the nosiest people in town.
“Hi, Betty Lou,” he greeted her.
“Creed McBride! What brings you here?” She glanced at Killian, clearly curious about who he was.
“Is Sam around?” he asked without answering her question.
“Yes.” She called out toward the hallway. “Sam!”
Creed looked back at Killian, trying not to laugh at his expression.
“Creed?”
“Hey, Sam.” Creed shook hands with the Clifton County sheriff. “This is agent Killian Doyle from the MDOL in Helena. We’re working on a case together and he needs to speak with Pedigo.”
Sam shook hands with Killian and motioned for him to follow him down the hallway. “I’ll stay close by so I can hear what’s going on, but I don’t want Pedigo to see me just yet,” Creed said with a grin.
Sam chuckled. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to stick around as well.”
“Of course,” Creed replied.
“Agent Doyle, follow me.”
At the end of the hallway, Creed leaned against the wall, his arms folded as he listened intently to the conversation. He heard Pedigo’s familiar voice and rolled his eyes.
“Well, if it isn’t Agent Killian Doyle,” Pedigo sneered. “What brings you here?”
“I have some questions for you regarding Percy Cartwright.”
“I don’t know who that is.”
“Don’t play dumb. I have photographic evidence of your association with him.”
“So, what if I know him?”
“He pays you to steal livestock, correct?”
“You can’t prove that.”
“But we can prove that you murdered an agent three years ago.”
Pedigo laughed confidently, and Creed clenched his jaw in anger.
“We have a lot more than that. Three counts of attempted murder and plenty of other charges that could lead to the death penalty.”
Pedigo scoffed. “You’ve got nothing, Doyle.”
