City of the Lost (Casey Duncan #1)(86)
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Random House Canada and colophon are registered trademarks.
Armstrong, Kelley, author
City of the lost : part five / Kelley Armstrong.
eBook ISBN 978-0-345-81619-1
Cover design by Terri Nimmo
Image credits: Foxes ? Airin.dizain / Shutterstock
v3.1
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
About the Author
Previously, in City of the Lost …
Casey finds local resident Jerry Hastings crudely disemboweled and left for dead. The killer has struck again.
Diana breaks her silence with Casey. But Diana doesn’t want to reconcile—she wants help. Isabel, the owner of the local brothel, thinks Diana is “freelancing,” but Diana maintains it’s all a lie. Casey is not so sure.
While cave exploring, Casey learns that unlike everyone else in town, the brooding sheriff, Eric Dalton, is a Rockton native. Casey is then reminded that everyone in Rockton has a dark past, even the handsome deputy, Will Anders.
This lesson hits home when she finds another dismembered limb—that of innocent, carefree Abbygail Kemp. Dr. Beth Lowry, Abbygail’s mentor, is especially shocked, and clings to Eric for support.
To escape Beth, Casey and Eric go to Dawson City to conduct research. They determine that the killer cannot simply be targeting residents who’ve committed violent crimes. Instead, the killer must be murdering for sport.
Before they fly home, Eric takes Casey for a bonfire at a lookout over Dawson City. Casey begins to see Eric—the unflappable sheriff, the compassionate naturalist, the coffee-shop intellectual—in a new, tender light.
The next day, Casey receives a hot tip: Before Abbygail disappeared, Abbygail and Eric were seen kissing—then fighting. Everything changes. Could Eric be the murderer, acting on a twisted impulse to protect Rockton?
One
I need to talk to someone who isn’t a fan of Dalton. Perhaps “fan” is the wrong word. He definitely has them. But there are plenty of people in Rockton who support him, and even most who are divided on the issue will grudgingly admit he’s a good sheriff. The only people I’ve heard openly say otherwise are Hastings, Diana, Jen, and Val.
I only have to say nine words when Val cracks open her door: I need to speak to you about Sheriff Dalton. She ushers me in with, “Five minutes, detective. I have things to do.”
Her home … No, again that’s the wrong word. This is not a home. The living room looks exactly like mine did when I moved in. While decor isn’t a priority in Rockton, people still need to feather their nests. Petra’s secondary source of income is sketching and selling wall art. Others knit blankets, quilt pillows, and make crafts from whatever else they find on the forest’s edge.
The only thing Val has added to her room is a shelf of writing journals. One book is open upside down on the end table, with a pen beside it.
She doesn’t offer me a drink. Doesn’t even offer me a seat. I still lower myself to the sofa. She seems inclined to stay standing but then, with obvious reluctance, perches on the armchair.
“You don’t have a high opinion of Sheriff Dalton,” I say.
“I have an adequate opinion of his ability to function in his position.”
“Nothing more.”
A twist of her lips, as if she’s holding back a sneer. “No, nothing more.”
“May I ask why that is?” I say, then quickly add, “I’m not here to challenge your opinion. But as I investigate, I need to consider all possibilities, and you seem to be one of the few people who might balance the prevailing view of Sheriff Dalton.”
“One of the few willing to badmouth him, you mean. If you’re considering him for these crimes, detective, I’m inclined to say don’t bother. Not because he isn’t capable of murder. He is. But he isn’t capable of such careful crimes. Dalton is a blunt instrument. He’s unsophisticated. He’s uneducated. He’s barely literate.”
“Based on his written reports?” I hold back a note of incredulity.
“His reports are verbal. I doubt he’s capable of writing them down.”
“Besides feeling as if Dalton is undereducated—”
“Ignorant, Detective Butler. He is ignorant. A lack of education combined with an innate lack of intelligence. Have you heard his language? I’m sure you know that profanity and ignorance rise in direct proportion, and I’ve rarely heard it rise as high as Sheriff Dalton’s. I don’t think he even knows a word over two syllables.”
I bite my tongue.
“Eric Dalton is a walking stereotype,” she continues, “and he’s too ignorant to even realize it. You’ve seen him sauntering down the street like the tin star in a spaghetti western. He has no desire to change, to better his life. He reminds me of the boys who used to ride past my grandparents’ farm. Hooting and hollering at me from their rusted pickups, throwing beer cans out the window.”