Page 84 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

"This is my county. The state police called these boys in because they have a contract with the timber company's executive board, but from this moment forward, this investigation is under joint command. You don't move a vehicle without a deputy present. You don't touch a piece of wire until my forensics team has logged it."

Walker's smile never reached his eyes. Yesterday he played the friendly sheriff. Today the mask didn't fit. Walker hated losing control. You could see it in the way his fingers clutched the edge of his belt, the fabric of his trousers straining against his stomach as he forced a smile for Vance, the state investigator. The smile was a terrible thing, a mechanical lifting of the lips that didn't alter the cold, defensive glare in his small eyes.

"We're all on the same team here, Sheriff," Derek said, his voice entirely too light, his fingers tapping a rhythmic pattern against his thigh.

But nobody believed him. The tension in the conference room was a living thing, thick with the suspicion that Walker wasn't just worried about his jurisdiction. He was worried about what we were going to find when we started digging.

The meeting broke up twenty minutes later when the secondary forensics team arrived from the capital. Walker escorted Vance out toward the briefing room, his hand placed heavily on the man’s shoulder as he whispered something into his ear. As the door clicked shut, the three of us stood in the empty corridor, the sound of the ringing phones down the hall still muffled by the heavy wood.

Mason stood near the water cooler, his head tilted slightly as he watched Walker’s retreating back through the glass pane. His hands were still deep in his pockets; his broad shoulders squared against the beige cinderblocks.

"This town fucking reeks," Mason said quietly, his voice barely lifting above the hum of the vending machine.

I reached into my pocket for a piece of gum, my boots dragging against the floor. Rolling my eyes I fake a sarcastic tone.

"No fucking shit. The water’s got too much iron in it, it’s a mountain town, everything smells like pine, wet earth and bad decisions."

Mason didn't look at me. He kept his slate-grey eyes fixed on the empty hallway where Sheriff Walker had disappeared to , his jaw setting into a hard, rigid line.

"No," he said, his voice dropping into that flat, dangerous frequency that usually meant he’d found a tripwire in the brush.

"I don't mean the water, Elias. I mean something's fucking wrong."

Elias

I didn't push him on it. When Mason says something is wrong, you don’t argue; you map it out. But right now, my skull felt like a hollow drum. I hooked my thumbs into my belt loops and turned toward the back exit.

"Let’s get out of the station before Walker decides to assign us to traffic duty or puts ears on us. My truck’s out back."

The gravel lot was cold, the fog hanging so low it swallowed our boots as we gathered around the tailgate. I reached into the truck bed, hauled out my heavy steel thermos, and poured the black sludge into three scratched plastic cups.

Derek took a sip, immediately winced, and stared at the cup like it had insulted his lineage. "Jesus, Reed. Did you brew this through an old sock? There’s an entire ecosystem floating at the bottom."

"Drink it or dump it, fucker," I muttered, leaning against the cold metal of the tailgate.

Mason took his without a word, staring down into the black surface before looking up at my face. His eyes didn't miss a fracture. "Still smoke?"

"No."

"Liar."

"I quit," not making eye contact I looked away toward the wood line.

"When?" Derek chimed in, a sharp grin glinting under his eyebrow piercing.

"Just before I got here."

Derek let out a loud, barking laugh that broke the heavy silence of the lot.

"Just before you got here? Wow. A whole week of purity. You’re practically a saint, Elias."

The laughter died down quickly, leaving the cold air between us empty again. Mason didn't join in. He just kept his slate-grey stare fixed on me, low and unyielding.

"You still sleep three hours?"

"No."

"You still having nightmares?"