Page 106 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

"The meeting's over."

He walked out. Nobody followed. Not immediately. The room stayed quiet. Heavy. Like everyone was waiting for somebody to throw the first punch.

The room sat on the edge of something ugly. Nobody spoke. Mason finally broke the silence.

"We're done."

His voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. It landed in the room with the quiet certainty of a closing vault door. Nobody argued. His slate-grey eyes moved over Walker, then Derek, before settling on me.

"Everyone's angry."

A beat.

"Nobody's thinking."

His gaze never left mine.

"Outside."

One word. An order disguised as a suggestion.

He turned before anyone answered, broad shoulders already moving toward the door. His boots struck the floor in slow, deliberate rhythms, each step measured, each one putting distance between us and the explosion waiting to happen.

Derek let out a quiet breath through his nose.

"Coffee?" he muttered, already grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.

I pushed away from the table hard enough that the chair legs scraped across the floor. Another second in that room...and someone was going to fucking bleed. I followed Mason into the corridor. The mountain air outside was freezing, a sharp, dry bite that immediately sank through the damp collar of my shirt, stealing whatever heat the briefing room had left behind.

Climbing inside the truck I waited for them to climb in before I drove away from the station and stopped by the weathered hardware store. Climbing out I leaned against the tailgate of my truck, dragging one slow breath after another into my lungs, trying to scrape Walker's words out of my head.

They wouldn't leave. Ten women. Under your watch. The sentence sat somewhere beneath my ribs, heavy as wet concrete.

Derek handed me a scratched plastic cup filled with what the grocery store generously called coffee. The black sludge steamed in thin ribbons before the cold air swallowed it whole. I took a swallow. It tasted like burnt earth. Nobody spoke.

We just stood there in the gravel lot while the phones inside continued ringing, dispatch voices bleeding faintly through the station walls. Somewhere a cruiser started. Another shut off. Gravel crunched beneath someone's boots.

Normal sounds. Busy sounds. Life continued while ten women had simply… Vanished. Something shifted. Not dangerous. Not exactly. Just… Awareness. The unmistakable feeling that somebody's eyes had settled on me. The kind of sensation you don't learn. You survive it enough times that your body reacts before your brain catches up. My head turned.

Across the two-lane street, parked beside the old antique shop, sat a sedan I'd recognize anywhere.

Seraphina.

She stood beside the driver's door; her dark hair caught loosely beneath that ridiculous plastic clip she always wore. The oversized sweater swallowed her completely, making her look even smaller against the cracked pavement. The moment I saw her... Something inside my chest eased. Just enough. The knot Walker had tied there loosened. She was alright. She looked… Normal. Safe. Alive.

Creak

The door behind us opened. Deputy Collins stepped outside. I watched him automatically. He never looked toward the people. Never acknowledged the cars. Never even glanced at us. Instead, he adjusted his hair with an almost practiced vanity before crossing the street with long, confident strides.

Straight toward her. I felt my shoulders stiffen. He didn't stop at a polite distance. Didn't give her room. Didn't wait for her to close the gap. He walked directly into it. Too close.

Way too fucking close.

His body leaned toward hers until barely two feet remained between them. His polished boots stopped almost against hers while she balanced those canvas grocery bags against her hip.

His mouth moved. Even from here I could tell he was smiling. That smooth, rehearsed smile people use when they think charm is a personality. What fucking irritated me was that she smiled back. It wasn't forced. It wasn't awkward. Just...Her. Warm. The same smile she'd given me on her porch. The same lips that had brushed against my jaw. Now they curved toward Collins.

Something ugly twisted low in my stomach. Hot. Instant. Violent. Before I even understood what I was feeling. My jaw clenched so hard something popped near my ear. The cheap plastic cup folded beneath my grip with a loud crack. Scalding coffee spilled over my knuckles, dripping between my fingers into the gravel.