How could she blame herself?
The man was adorable in that good ole’ boy way.
There were two things that prevented walking down that dangerous path. First, she was his boss and second, there was a big age difference. Emma wasn’t going to mess around with the men she supervised or risk being called a cougar.
Emma laughed at the thoughts bouncing around in her head. “Are you just getting on shift now?” She looked at her watch and saw it was almost eight at night.
“Yeah, Sheriff, I am. Are you out here looking for something?” And then he paused. “Is it a good idea that you’re out here alone, Emma?” he asked, trying out her name. Not many of the deputies dared to go there, ever since Deputy Reese laid down the law and claimed her off limits to anyone on staff. They all knew the man was territorial with her, they just didn’t know why.
Emma let the name thing go, simply because she had been thinking less than puritanical thoughts herself. The two wrongs in her mind cancelled out.
“Yeah, Tommy, something has me bothered. I just finished talking to Megan Landry’s family, and it seems the victim left with a cell phone in her possession. I’m fairly sure that the evidence log didn’t have one on the list of items recovered at the scene. I wanted to look around and see if we missed anything before the FBI gets here and makes us look like idiots for missing evidence.”
“No offense, Emma, but the Feds are going to make us look like idiots whether we lost evidence or not.”
She laughed because he was probably right. At least having one of her deputies there to accompany her made her feel infinitely better about traipsing through ‘The Crossing’ in the dark. Now there was at least back up should something go wrong. “Got a flashlight?” she questioned, hopefully.
Tom Marshall grinned. “I sure do, Sheriff. We better hustle too before what’s left of the light is gone,” he suggested and paused before continuing. “I would have gone out to the Landry place with you. Talking to the family had to be rough.” Yeah, he knew he was probably crossing a line, but it was rare anyone got her alone. Deputy Reese was like a guard dog over the very sexy ‘Sheriff Starling’ bone.
“Yeah, well it wasn’t pretty,” she answered, walking beside him into the corn and brush.
“You want left or right side?” he questioned, smiling warmly. It was probably wrong to be enjoying this time with her, but what Deputy Reese didn’t know, wouldn’t kill him.
Maybe.
“I’ll take left, since I am already over here,” she replied. “The Landry family said that the phone is small, silver and covered with faux gemstones,” Emma answered over her shoulder on her way into the clearing. “Should be like finding a technologically advanced needle in a field sized haystack,” she muttered under her breath.
As the two of them entered the clearing, Emma could feel icy fingers running down her spine in warning. She got the distinct impression that they weren’t alone out there, and since she didn’t believe in ghosts. That left one other possibility. Someone was in the surrounding woods observing them.
Emma convinced herself that she was being paranoid, and shoved down the feeling as quickly as it rose. The killer wouldn’t just be sitting in the woods waiting for her to show up. That was preposterous.
“Hey, Tommy,” she yelled over her shoulder. “Find anything?”
“Nada, boss lady, and it’s getting too dark out here. I suggest we come back in the morning and check it out again.”
“That’s probably a really good idea. Let’s get the hell out of here. My over active imagination is getting the best of me,” she admitted, laughing.
Deputy Tom Marshall walked her back to her Jeep and closed the door for her.
“Be safe, Emma,” he said, offering her his best grin.
“I will, Tommy. Please do a drive by a few times tonight to make sure everything is fine,” she requested, before starting up her vehicle.
“Absolutely,” he answered, wishing he could drive by her place too while he was at it. Yeah, he needed to walk away and stop thinking about his boss before he did something incredibly stupid.
As she was pulling away, Emma had that persistent feeling again. She glanced back into her rear view mirror, only to see Tommy’s headlights behind her. It was getting late, and once again her paranoia was threatening to take over.
Before she freaked out, it was time to call it a night.
* * *
He watched from the darkness, hidden in the shadows of the maize. As he scrutinized her and the deputy, there was no doubt that she was acutely aware he was there. The sheriff was apparently very astute and too street smart for her own good. Had she been alone in the field, he would have terrified her a little bit, simply to screw with her.
Now, he was finding some excitement that she would be a worthy adversary, and not a whore like the rest. It was rare to find a woman who wasn’t sleeping with half the men around her, and who had a brain in her skull
The Hunter was going to enjoy going head to head against her. Maybe in the end, she’d catch him, or possibly, he’d get to her first. For now, he’d have some fun with her to see if Emma Starling was as good at her job as she appeared.
It was time to play cat and mouse. As the two vehicles left ‘The Crossing’, he stayed hidden until the headlights were out of sight. They’d come very close to catching him. Staring down at the phone in his hand, he grinned. Megan Landry, that sneaky bitch tossed the phone after he attacked her. Not that it would matter one way or the other. He used a burn phone to call her. There was no way the authorities could track it to him. Still, he could use this to his advantage. He’d use the woman’s phone again, and soon.
Stepping out into the moonlight, he glanced around. Soon, it would be time to strike once more. For now, the sheriff was safe, only because he had his next victim in mind. Although for him, the idea of taking Emma Starling and having his fun with her entertained him on some level.
“I bet you’d scream for me,” he whispered into the dark. “Soon enough, we’ll see.”
He smiled as he walked into the dark with the cell phone in one hand and the hunting knife in the other.
* * *
Tuesday Morning
As she woke that morning, the first thing that popped into her head was cognizance of the dreams.
They were back.
Over the last year or so, they had ebbed away, ceasing their persistent pursuit. Peace had taken their place eventually as the calm of Celestia offered her healing during her sleep and waking hours.
Part of her wanted to hide in bed all day, slipping back into the destructive habits she once battled against daily. It would be so easy to just pretend it wasn’t happening, that she wasn’t scared or that she wanted to hide.
Knowing she couldn’t succumb to it, Emma forced herself to crawl out of bed and brew herself a pot of coffee. The familiarity of routine offered her harmony and allowed her to get back in focus. She was awake early enough that there was plenty of time for some meditation and a shower before she had to leave for work. It, too, had become a ritual that rarely was skipped.
Emma truly believed that the practice of staying calm was part of the reason she was able to function at all. Meditation was pushing the scary dreams back into hiding. Because of this murder, they had come back out of the darkest corners of her mind, waiting to catch her off balance. For a while, she’d believed the past was buried deep enough. Apparently, she’d been wrong.
She stripped to her panties and tank top and began her exile into meditation. Easily, she found her way to the peace, and allowed it to balance and center her for the new day. It was a good hour later when she resurfaced from the meditative pool, realizing she was once again going to be late for work if she didn’t get moving.
The welcoming spray was warm, comforting and made all the remaining stresses dissipate. It was vastly different from the previous evening’s shower. Last night, the sole purpose was to scald her flesh, stripping away the blood and stench
of death. What was needed then was to cleanse herself of the filth of the situation. No matter how long she stood under the water last night, scrubbing the blood from her, it never fully went away. It still stained her soul.
Out of the shower and dried off, Emma grabbed her coffee and quickly dressed. The FBI was coming today, and she wanted to be comfortable since it was going to be a LONG day. Emma wondered if she should go formal and put on that horrid brown uniform, and then she realized the insanity behind that. Already, it was stagnant outside, so why torture herself. Faded jeans, a light jacket, and a tank top were the distinct winners. When it came down to it, being comfortable overrode being the sheriff any day.
After strapping on her shoulder harness, she contemplated wearing her ankle holster. She normally left it at home, but last night’s uneasiness changed her mind. Emma didn’t like having to be this heavily armed in Celestia, but her gut instinct was going to win out.
Driving into work was done in complete silence. There was no music and no phone call, nothing. Today, her biggest obstacle would be getting into the office and holding up under the scrutiny. She needed to get it done, remaining impervious to the fear growing in her.
As she pulled into her parking spot, she was irritated to see the mayor and the weasel were already waiting for her. They’d commandeered the bench adjacent to where she parked her vehicle. Now, she had a snowball’s chance in hell of avoiding them. This wasn’t exactly how she wanted to start today, let alone any day.
Taking a deep breath, Emma hopped out, slamming the door a little too hard. Despite trying to be patient, the men rubbed her the wrong way. “Morning, Mayor,” she muttered as pleasantly as she could. His lackey was simply given a nod. That’s all Emma could muster for the man.
“Sheriff, I tried getting you at your office all day yesterday. Don’t you return calls?” demanded Ron Tate. “I’m the Mayor of Celestia and deserve priority. I don’t call to set up a coffee date.”
Emma lifted a brow. Apparently, the good mayor’s undies were in a bunch. He was obviously in a mood this morning, but then again so was she.
When she pulled off her sunglasses and moved closer to the mayor, the look on her face must have said it all because he stepped back. Emma’s eyes narrowed and she kept her voice low. “I don’t have time when I’m entrenched in a murder investigation, Mayor. Once I find a dead body in my town, the victim takes priority. Your daughter could have told you where I could be found. I’m sure she tells you everything else that goes on in my office.”
Emma stood her ground, daring either of the men to continue with any comments.
“Well, Sheriff, this is the first murder this town has seen for a long time,” added Will Taylor, coming to the mayor’s defense as usual.
Emma pictured his lips attached to Ron Tate’s ass and it lightened the tension in her immediately. She even edited in a kissing sound in her mind.
“Well, I guess I’m setting precedent then, huh? Aren’t I the lucky one?” she paused, focusing on the man who was technically her boss. “I’m the first female sheriff, and I found us our first serial killer. Man, you do get your money’s worth!”
They both were surprised at her sarcasm.
Emma pushed past the two men and headed for the door. “Mayor, I have some things I have to take care of so make it quick or make it later. I have a job to do,” she paused, waiting for the ‘important’ things he needed to discuss with her.
“I was just curious about the FBI. When and how many are coming?” he questioned, still surprised at her tone. It wasn’t like the sheriff to speak to him this way, or anyone for that matter.
Emma turned, contemplating his question.
“I don’t want a three ring circus rolling into town.”
“Honestly, Mayor,” she said, “I have no idea when, but I do know that there will be at least two agents out of the Philadelphia office. They’re here to assist and get us on track with the investigation.”
“I see.” Ron Tate wasn’t happy anyone was invading his town. It would stir the pot, wickedly.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I have a murder to investigate, and I wouldn’t want anyone telling my boss that hiring me was a mistake.” With that, Emma headed into the building to round up some deputies and head back to the clearing to look for more evidence. The fact they still didn’t find the cell phone was still on her nerves too.
Deep down, she hoped that they didn’t miss it in the evidence sweep. That would make them look like incompetent ignoramuses. Then she looked at the men standing in the bullpen. One of the great things about them was they were always willing to do whatever it took. How could she fault any of them if they accidentally missed evidence?
It wasn’t as if they did this every day.
When she asked for deputies to assist her, both Ridge and Marshall volunteered to pull a double shift and follow her to the scene to help.
Before leaving, Emma grabbed more rubber gloves, so that they would have plenty of extras on hand. It was better to be safe than sorry.
Walking into the outer office, she pointed at the two men until she garnered their attention. “Come on, guys. Let’s get over there. We have some unanswered questions that I need to find a resolution for before they make me insane.”
“We’d hate to see you lose your mind, Sheriff,” stated Ridge, laughing.
“Boys, I’m already half-way to insane. The FBI should just about push me the rest of the way over.”
“We’ll stay back and try not to get hurt in the fallout.”
She started laughing herself. “Good idea.” All Emma was hoping for at this point was an agent who would take it easy on her town, her men, and her.
Anything else was icing on the cake.
~ Chapter Three ~
Tuesday Mid-Morning
It was a long morning out in the clearing. The smell of blood was still permeating the grass and soil. The sun was high in the sky, and everyone was beginning to feel the heat. Emma was glad she thought to pick up some ice and water. She didn’t need anyone dropping from heat stroke on top of it all.
The deputies were quietly walking the field, searching for the missing cell phone in the grid pattern she’d taught them. Watching them and focusing on what happened in the field was making it very hard for her to concentrate. Emma was feeling overwhelmed at the senseless murder of Megan Landry.
Standing in the area where she’d first felt the sense of being watched, Emma scanned her surroundings, taking everything in around her. Something about it was making her feel off balance, but she simply couldn’t tell why.
Before long, Emma could tell the FBI agents had arrived on the scene. She didn’t even have to look over towards them. The sound of their engine drew her attention. The unfamiliar hum gave them away.
There was both gratitude and nerves as it was all about to begin. Emma crossed her fingers, and continued searching through the grass, waiting for the men to make their way to her for introductions.
Special Agent Curtis Briggs was overly excited, and before his mentor would let him out of the vehicle, he warned him.
“We discussed this. You need to stop grinning like a boy about to get lucky on prom night. You’re going to piss off the sheriff and the deputies. We’re here to verify that the killer is the same one we’re after, and nothing more. If he is, we’re here to help. If he’s not, then technically the sheriff is on her own until another body turns up,” Agent Croft reminded him.
“I’m just ready to go!” he grinned.
Croft shook his head, shifting his focus to the clearing and the people moving around. There were two males wearing uniforms and one female.
He had to look twice at the gorgeous woman.
Immediately, he blocked out Briggs’s conversation to study her crouched in the grass. She was wearing jeans and a tank top, and her hair hung past her shoulders. It was the color of shiny copper. Rich and red, and something deep in him wondered what it would feel like to play with wavy strands. When s
he stood, Croft was surprised to see that she was taller than he anticipated. He also didn’t expect the curves that drew his focus.
“Croft?” asked Briggs. “You ready?”
“Huh? Uh, yeah. Let’s go.” Stepping out of the air conditioning, he was hit with stagnant heat, but it was a little too late. His body was already warmed up.
“Great. Could it be a little hotter?” muttered Briggs, his enthusiasm dampening a bit.
He didn’t answer his partner because suddenly the heat was the last thing he was concerned about. Everything was gone around him and only the woman in the field had his interest. The closer he moved towards her, the more his curiosity was piqued.
Maybe this assignment would have some merit after all, even if the killer wasn’t the one they were looking for personally. It looked like he found something far more rewarding.
Emma was about to warn Dwayne that the Feds had arrived, when two shadows fell over the ground they were searching. It looked like it was now or never as she stood to greet the men. Her eyes immediately went to the older, larger man, and she felt something deep inside her click open. Her speech was gone, and so was her breath.
“Hello, Sheriff, and hello, ma’am,” said the younger agent. “My name is Special Agent Briggs, and this is Senior Special Agent Croft,” he said, beginning the introductions. The probationary agent held out his hand to shake Dwayne’s and then nodded at Emma.
Maybe it was the fact she wore no uniform that had the young man confused, but he honestly believed she was Dwayne’s assistant or tech.
It was a rookie mistake.
Keeping calm, she never broke eye contact with Agent Croft and spoke softly, taking in the man’s features and face. If she wanted the respect of the Feds from the start, she needed to assert authority but not be rude. Who was she kidding? Emma knew who she wanted respecting her and not because of her title as sheriff.
Celestia is Falling (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 1) Page 5