A Deep and Dark December(5)

The sheriff directed his men to search the property, guns drawn. Three went to the back while the sheriff picked two more to go with him through the front. The leftover few stood around, looking at each other like they’d just won the lottery. Moments later, the sheriff came back out and scanned the street. His gaze halted on Erin sitting on the curb across the street. She stood up, careful to avoid the mess she’d made. Shoulders hunched against the downpour, she retraced her steps to the house.

The closer she came to Sheriff Graham Doran, the deeper his frown grew. She came even with him, then just stood there, not knowing what to do or say.

“You called it in?” he asked, taking in her appearance.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t you have an umbrella?”

She looked up at his curt tone into eyes a shade or two bluer than the blackened sky. He was annoyed with her, and not hiding it. What was wrong with him? What had she done to irritate him?

“Sorry.” She was on the verge of crying, but she’d be damned if she’d cry in front of him.

He made a rough noise at the back of his throat, then stomped off toward his cruiser, muttering under his breath. He came back with an umbrella, popped it open and thrust it at her.

She frowned. “I’m already soaked.”

He folded his arms over his chest. Rain dripped off the bill of his sheriff insignia baseball cap into the space between them. He wasn’t the sheriff his father had been, opting for a more casual look than his father’s brass-buttoned jacket and flat-rimmed Mountie hat.

“Why did you come here?” he demanded.

“To do my job.”

“Yeah, I’d heard Cadaver Investments was circling Greg’s house. Come to pick the bones clean?”

She pulled in a breath. “It’s Kavender Investments and I came here to give Greg a check. We had an appointment.”

“Oh, I’m sure you did.” He looked around at the other empty houses. “You’ve had a lot of appointments in this neighborhood already.”

“My company has, yes. It’s what we do.”

“You came here to take the man’s house away from him right after he lost his job and his wife left him. You’re doing God’s work, for sure.”

She knew his anger wasn’t directed at her specifically. Greg had been his friend and a reminder of what might have been his fate, had he stayed. Her job sucked. So did his. Seeing Greg like that shook her and she couldn’t stand the man. She could only imagine how Graham felt.

She knew all that and yet his words still stung. “We all have our jobs to do even if we don’t like them.”

He inclined his head toward the house. “Just give me the brief on what happened in there.”

She looked back at the house and the flashing rage Graham had ignited dulled to a simmering roar. The other officers had all gone inside, no doubt so they would have something to tell folks over breakfast tomorrow down at The Do or Dine Diner. She closed her eyes on the images that flashed across her mind of Deidre and Greg lying on the kitchen floor. If only she could scrub it from her memory.

Opening her eyes, she turned to Graham. “I went into the house, looking for Greg—”

“You just waltzed in.”

“No. I found a key in the pot by the door. Kavender owns this house now. I had every right to go in as their agent.”

“Right. So you went in, then what?”

She couldn’t tell him about her vision. She’d been so careful, keeping her ability a secret all these years. Even so, she knew there was something about her that marked her as different, something that set her apart. It was more than her quirky aunt and her motherlessness. She made people uneasy, their gazes connecting briefly, then skittering away. They didn’t stand too close to her or draw her into idle conversations. Maybe it was something inherent like some kind of silent signal, making them wary of her. She didn’t know. She’d spent too long trying to overcome whatever it was, to no avail. Revealing her secret wouldn’t change anything.

“When I walked into the kitchen, Greg was standing over Deidre with a gun in his hand.” Erin exhaled hard. “She was dead.”

“He was alive when you arrived?”

“Yes.”

“Then what?”

“He was upset. He said he didn’t kill her.”

“They all say that.”

“Yeah, but I really don’t think he did it.”

His posture changed subtlety, shifting toward her. “Go on.”

“He kept saying that the police wouldn’t believe him. I told him that I believed him. He started crying and knelt down… he, ah…” She paused, not knowing where to look, tears brimming her eyes.

Graham moved closer, dropping his voice to where only she could hear him under the umbrella. “You’re doing fine. Go on.” His nearness brought back old memories and the thousands of times she’d wished for him to get this close.

“Greg knelt down beside her, his knees in her…in her blood. And he stroked her hair. It was kind of sweet. He told her he loved her and that she was right to leave him. He apologized.”

“For what?”

“Everything. I guess. He was saying goodbye to his wife. I think he really loved her.”

“What did you do?”