Page 20 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

"You had a good trip?" he asked.

"It was a drive."

He blinked before letting out a quiet, awkward, "...Right."

Silence settled between us. He looked like he wanted to fill it. I didn't. After a moment, he cleared his throat.

"Sheriff Walker's been expecting you."

"I figured."

He nodded and stepped aside, gesturing toward the entrance. "He's in his office."

"Thanks."

The wooden porch groaned beneath my boots as I climbed the steps, each board protesting my weight. Old timber. Solid enough, but overdue for replacing. I reached for the brass handle just as the front door swung open, warm air spilling out to meet me. Coffee, old paper, printer ink, furniture polish and the subtle hint of disinfectant. The familiar smell of every station I'd ever worked in.

My eyes swept across the lobby before I stepped inside. A reception desk sat beneath a bulletin board crowded with notices and community flyers. A coffee machine hummed quietly in the corner beside three framed photographs of former sheriffs. A trophy cabinet filled with little league baseball awards stood against one wall, polished often enough to keep the fingerprints away. The tiled floor had been mopped recently, though the corners were still damp where the water hadn't quite dried.

Someone cared about this place or wanted people to think they did. Either way, I couldn’t care less. A woman behind the reception desk looked up from her computer, reading glasses balanced near the end of her nose. She smiled the moment our eyes met.

"You must be Detective Reed."

"I am."

She stood, smoothing the front of her cardigan before walking around the desk.

"I'm Susan. It's nice to finally meet you. We've all been wondering when you'd get here."

"I said I'd be here today."

She laughed softly.

"I suppose you did."

Her gaze drifted to the duffel bag over my shoulder.

"Long drive?"

"Long enough."

"You'll fit right in."

I almost smiled. People who said things like that usually knew very little about me.

She pointed toward the hallway.

"Last door on the left."

I nodded once.

"Thank you."

The hallway was lined with framed newspaper clippings. Missing pets. Charity drives. County fairs. Retirement ceremonies. Smiling faces. Too many fucking smiling faces. Communities liked pretending happiness could be framed.

Halfway down the corridor, laughter drifted from the break room. Someone had burned popcorn. The smell lingered stubbornly in the air. Another deputy walked past carrying a stack of paperwork. He slowed when he saw me.

“Reed?”