The Sierra Files Box Set: Books 1-3: Plus a bonus Christmas novella!

by Christy Barritt

  He led me down another hallway and into a room with a large table and three chairs. There was a strange scent in the room—a mix of body odor and Lysol. The combination wasn’t pleasant. Everything in the room was gray, and I wondered if this was the police department’s effort to play mind games and make those they arrested feel even bleaker in hopes they’d simply confess.

  I didn’t feel comfortable enough to sit—not when I had so much on my mind—so, instead, I paced. I hated feeling clueless. No, I was Mrs. Informed and Prepared, the woman who read every book I could on subjects so I could be well-educated. I had a whole shelf of books on parenting that I’d read in the months before Reef was born. Unfortunately, I hadn’t had time to read any criminal-law manuals since Mandee had called me at 3:30 a.m.

  Five minutes after I was escorted into the room, the door opened again and Mandee was led inside.

  She threw her arms around me and sobbed against my shoulder. “Sierra! I’m so glad you came. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

  Again, this was one of those times when I wasn’t really sure I should be up on a pedestal. There was really so little I could do for Mandee, yet she thought I could walk on water. I didn’t want to disappoint her, but I didn’t know how not to in this situation. I was educated enough to know that I was setting myself up for failure, plain and simple.

  “Have you hired a lawyer yet, Mandee?” I asked once she pulled away from her dramatic hug long enough to make eye contact. There was no need of getting her hopes up only to have them fall fast and hard. Violently, for that matter.

  I had to admit that I missed the old Mandee. Mandee wearing a gray jumpsuit with no colorful clips in her hair did not seem like Mandee.

  We sat at the table in the center of the room so we could talk. Besides, I needed to put some distance between her and myself.

  “I can’t afford one.” She sniffled and stared at me with puppy-dog eyes.

  “The city will hire someone to represent you,” I said. “It’s a basic right.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want a court-appointed attorney. I want someone who believes me. I want you.”

  She was a hardhead. That was all there was to it. “But I’m not a lawyer.”

  She blinked back tears. “I have faith in you, Sierra. You do a good job whatever you do. It’s your nature.”

  I sighed. She wasn’t going to let this go, was she? Finally, I nodded. “Let me talk to someone for you. If I can’t represent you, then he would be the next best thing. I trust him. In the meantime, is there anything you want to tell me?”

  “I didn’t do it.”

  I was going to have to approach this slowly and carefully. “How did your prints get on that crowbar? And how did it end up in the trash?”

  “Easy. Patrick’s dishwasher broke. I was trying to help him by putting some of his dirty dishes in it and washing them. But then smoke started coming out, and I couldn’t get the dishwasher open. I was afraid the whole place would burn down.”

  “So you took a crowbar to his dishwasher?” Did the girl have any common sense at all?

  She shrugged, looking awfully sheepish. “Well, yeah. But then I felt bad about it when I noticed the pry marks. I decided the next day, after sleeping on it, that I should get rid of the evidence.”

  “He’d still see the pry marks, even without the crowbar,” I countered, trying to wrap my mind around her logic. How could she be so smart yet so dense?

  She shrugged again and averted her gaze from mine. “I didn’t think it through. At all. I may have even considered lying and saying someone broke into the apartment and did it.”

  “Why would someone break in and pry open a dishwasher?” How had I ever hired this woman?

  “Like I said, I didn’t think it all through.”

  “That’s quite obvious.” I straightened after I said the words, realizing I’d probably offended her. But, as she looked at me with those big puppy-dog eyes, I realized I hadn’t. The insult had either gone right over her head or she’d ignored it.

  I drew in a deep breath, trying to gather my patience. “Is there any other possible evidence the police can use against you, Mandee? Think about it.”

  She shook her head, moisture rimming her eyes again. The girl was scared, and that made my heart squeeze with compassion. I hated to think about Reef being left on his own to sort out something like this one day when he was older. I’d want someone to be there for him. Motherhood was changing me.

  “No,” Mandee said. “There’s nothing I’ve left out. Nothing at all. I promise.”

  I nodded, making up my mind to help. “Okay, I’m going to see what I can do to find some answers. But I can’t make any promises.”

  Hope lit her eyes. Not just hope. Abundant hope. Little-girl, I-still-believe-in-Santa-Claus hope. “You’re the best, Sierra. The absolute best.”

  I stood. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Oh, by the way, I told the detective you were a lawyer.”

  My eyes widened. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I thought you would represent me.”

  That was the reason the detective had let me back here. I knew something didn’t seem right. “Mandee, it’s a crime to pretend to be a lawyer. I could be arrested!”

  She gave me her big, childlike eyes again. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  “I’ve got to go clear this up.”

  “Tell them it’s all my fault. The lawyer part, that is. Not the death of Tag Wilson.”

  I turned to leave when she called me back. I paused by the door, my muscles tightening in anticipation of what she might say this time. “Yes?”

  “Would you mind feeding Patrick’s geckos for me while I’m here?”

  After I left Mandee at the jail, I decided to use my time as wisely as possible. I went into the office—all was quiet, as no one else wanted to be there at 5:30 a.m. I would treasure the peace for a few minutes while I could.

  My little office was located in a corner of a single-story building. When the sun was actually out, I could look out my windows and see a lovely view of the parking lot and the thin stretch of woods behind the building—not to mention one corner of the dumpster.

  It wasn’t much, but it was much better than the cubicle I’d started out in.

  I spent my first hour catching up on emails and some paperwork for various campaigns we had going on. The hardest part about being director was that I couldn’t be as hands-on. I ended up managing money and people more than getting directly involved in our crusades. But I’d worked hard, and it only made sense that I’d want to move up in the organization. The added responsibility had meant a pay raise, which was nice.

  On a whim, in between returning emails, I decided to do a little research on Patrick. People made it way too easy to find out information on themselves by oversharing on social media. Social media worked to our favor here at APS because we used it to start campaigns, which then went viral. Most people posted too much information, though.

  Like Patrick.

  I went to his Facebook page, which was surprisingly public. Perhaps it was because he used it as a venue to display his photographs.

  I studied his profile picture a moment. The man appeared to be on the shorter side, and he had a slight build. His hair was light brown with an almost red tint to it, and, even though he was still young, he was already getting a receding hairline.

  I checked the rest of his stats. He didn’t list a job, but he did list being a college student. He’d posted many, many pictures of himself with Chalice.

  No pictures from the rain forest, though. Maybe that was because, as Mandee had said, he had no cell service.

  As I leaned back in my chair and chewed on that thought, one of my star employees—her name was Chloe—stuck her head into my office. Personality-wise, Chloe was pretty much a mini-me. She was smart, driven, and tenacious. She loved animals with every fiber of her being and fought with every last breath to help them.

  Phys
ically speaking, she was Irish with the reddest hair I’d ever seen, pale skin, and freckles. Whereas I was short and petite, she was tall and big-boned.

  Unlike Mandee, hiring Chloe had been one of my best decisions ever.

  “Did you hear about the snake?” Chloe asked as she stepped into my office.

  I needed to rethink my open-door policy. “Yes, I did. How did you hear?”

  A wrinkle formed between her eyebrows. “Same way as everyone else. It was in the newspaper this morning.”

  The newspaper. Of course! Had Mandee’s name been mentioned? I’d wait and see if Chloe brought it up.

  “What about it?” I asked.

  “Well, the snake obviously. Animal Control will most likely euthanize it.”

  I blinked as I processed her words. Animals were usually the first thing I thought about. But, in this case, there were too many other details, and I hadn’t even thought about Chalice’s fate.

  “If the animal is deemed aggressive, the city usually does try to euthanize. You’re right. What are you thinking?”

  She slapped a paper on my desk. “I was up all night drafting this campaign after I saw the story on the evening news. What do you think?”

  I picked up the first sheet and scanned it. “Animal Lives Matter?”

  She nodded, fire lighting her eyes. “Brilliant, isn’t it?”

  “It’s very . . . relevant.”

  “These people can’t blame animals for doing what animals are programmed to do. That snake didn’t know she was committing a crime. She was probably either hungry or defending herself. She doesn’t deserve to die.”

  But she did kill someone.

  The thought startled me because it was so out of the realm of the ordinary for me. Usually in cases like these I didn’t see the human victims. I didn’t see the way lives were turned upside down.

  I only thought about the animal.

  I’d seen this particular animal. She was huge. If one of my neighbors wanted to keep Chalice in their apartment, I’d feel highly uncomfortable.

  “Sierra?” Chloe questioned, staring at me.

  I snapped back to the present. “Yes?”

  “So, what do you think?”

  My team here expected me to lead them in these crusades. We tried to cause as big a ruckus as possible, knowing that it took a big ruckus to even get small results. Small ruckuses did virtually nothing.

  I glanced at the paper again, quickly scanning. It included our basic press release, a virtual campaign to raise awareness, and letters to city leaders. I nodded. “Go for it.”

  A smile lit her face. “Great. I’ll get busy.”

  After she scurried away, I looked up the newspaper article on my computer and gleaned the main pieces of information.

  Tag Wilson was 38 years old and originally from Seattle, Washington.

  Neighbors said he kept to himself.

  The scent of livestock on him may have drawn the snake to him, making Chalice think he was food.

  A suspect is being held in connection with the event.

  Tag’s picture stared at me from the front page. He had a pointy nose, heavy jowls, and thinning hair. He appeared to have a larger build but a really great, wide smile.

  The timing seemed awful for a campaign like this. I was all in favor of saving the lives of animals that were mistreated. This case seemed like a gray area.

  My thoughts turned to Mandee. If my research was correct, she’d have a hearing in order for bond to be set. The girl couldn’t represent herself. She just couldn’t.

  On a whim, I called my neighbor Riley. He was an attorney. Maybe he could help.

  Unfortunately, the call went straight to voice mail.

  I sighed and leaned back. Before my frustration could build, my phone rang. It was Mandee calling collect, and she was crying again.

  “Oh, Sierra. You’ll never believe this,” she started.

  I leaned back in my chair and took a deep breath in. And let it out. “What’s that?”

  “The police are messing up everything. Everything!”

  My spine stiffened at her announcement. “What do you mean?”

  She hesitated before saying, “I may have put something on Facebook two nights ago that was slightly incriminating, and they’re totally taking it the wrong way. They really think I intended to kill Tag.”

  I closed my eyes, fighting annoyance and irritation. Mandee grated on my last nerve and tested my kindness like no one else. “You mean there is more evidence out there that you didn’t mention.”

  “I promise, I forgot all about it.” Her voice sounded pleading and innocent again, like she didn’t have a fault in any of this.

  “What did you say on Facebook?” I braced myself for her response. There was no telling what she’d written.

  “Only that I wanted to kill Tag Wilson.” Her voice tapered with a touch of shame. “Strangle him. Or maybe I’d let my friend’s snake do it for me.”

  I lowered my head until it connected with my hand in a face palm. I’d seen a lot. I’d heard a lot. And Mandee could win a prize for putting her foot in her mouth. It was almost like she wanted to look guilty. “Why in the world would you say that, Mandee?”

  “Well, of course, I didn’t mean it! He just made me so mad with his hoity-toity attitude against me doing Zumba. And then he started insulting Patrick and talking about those ‘crazy animal rights activists.’ He pushed me over the edge!”

  “Don’t tell the police that,” I urged. “It can be interpreted wrong. Very wrong.”

  “Oh . . . of course. I would never repeat that to anyone but you. But I didn’t do it, Sierra. I didn’t kill him. It was just an expression.”

  Like the police hadn’t heard that before. “I understand. But things keep continually coming out that you haven’t told me about. It makes me feel like you’re not being transparent and honest with me.”

  “I am being transparent! I’m so sorry, Sierra. I just didn’t think anything about those things. Nothing at all.”

  I rolled my eyes, unable to take her seriously at this point. Her comprehension of the cause and effect of her actions only affirmed that she was still a child at heart.

  “I understand,” I finally said.

  “I knew you would, Sierra. Thanks so much. Oh, and by the way: Did you feed the geckos yet?”

  I rolled my eyes up toward the ceiling, praying I wouldn’t break under the pressure I felt at the moment. Or strangle Mandee the next time I saw her.

  “Not yet. But I’m on my way now.”

  Chapter Five

  With everything crazy going on, I decided to let the landlord, who lived next door, know who I was. Then I grabbed a spare key that had been hidden beneath the doormat outside Patrick’s door. Mandee had told me he kept it there.

  In the back of my mind, I also realized that anyone could have gotten inside and jimmied the vent cover. The key’s hiding spot wasn’t remarkable, and anyone with a little bit of initiative could have found it. I stored that information away in case it became relevant later.

  I slipped inside and paused. Despite the fact that I knew Chalice had been captured, that didn’t stop me from surveying the space for wayward snakes. I didn’t see any. Thank goodness.

  Something about the place seemed eerie, but I couldn’t put my finger on what. I suppose it could be how quiet it was, especially after considering all the harm one of the snakes who’d lived here had done. The snake’s actions had turned one family upside down.

  Though Tag didn’t appear to be married or have children, certainly there was someone out there who was missing him.

  Had the police contacted Patrick yet? Was he on his way home? Would someone file a civil lawsuit against him?

  Pushing away my heebie-jeebies, I went into the “snake room.” I quickly located a bucket full of live crickets and frowned.

  “I hope you appreciate this,” I muttered. I wasn’t sure if I was talking to geckos, to Mandee, or to Patrick. Maybe all three.


  I closed my eyes as I stuck my hand into the bucket. I managed to grab one of the crickets. I moved with lightning-fast speed as I dropped the insect into the terrarium. A shiver ran through me.

  Thankfully, the snakes had to be fed only every week or so. Since they normally ate mice or other animals, I was glad I didn’t have to feed them. I fought for animals not to be considered food, yet here I was, in the position to feed animals to animals next week if this fiasco wasn’t resolved first.

  Talk about a moral crisis.

  I waited until the gecko ate the cricket before repeating the process with the frogs.

  Finally, I could leave! I felt slightly guilty not giving them more attention. After all, they were here all alone now with no one to care for them. But I had bigger fish to fry.

  I gasped as the thought entered my mind, almost as if God himself had heard me and was calling me out on my mental hypocrisy.

  “I didn’t mean it,” I muttered.

  It was time for me to get out of here. Now.

  Before I could leave, I paused. I almost felt like something was stopping me, begging for my attention. But what?

  I glanced around the kitchen. Like the rest of the house, it was messy—with dishes in the sink and pots and pans piled up on the counter.

  I opened the fridge. All that was in there were orange juice and some lunchmeat. Nothing outstanding.

  Out of curiosity, I opened a cabinet. I spotted several boxes of mac and cheese, some soup cans, and other easy meals, typical for a bachelor.

  I paused. There was one thing I didn’t see.

  Cereal.

  Hadn’t Mandee said Patrick had won that trip because of a contest on the back of a cereal box? Yet, there was no milk in the fridge or any cereal boxes in the cabinets. I checked the rest of them, just to be sure, and confirmed my theory.

  It was probably nothing—right?

  But I couldn’t help but think it was something.

  As I was leaving the apartment building, the neighbor who lived across the hall from Tag stepped out of his door and into my path. I didn’t recognize him from when Mandee and I had questioned all the residents here on the day the snake went missing. No, an older woman had answered the door to this apartment.