Chapter 9
Brynn tried to focus on driving the speed limit. Every stop sign felt like an assault. She needed to get to Wes. She needed to find out what happened. How did he find a dead body? Who was it? Was it someone they knew? Poor Wes! What a horrible thing to stumble on. He was such a softhearted, good young man.
The drive was a blur, and when she walked into the small station, the lights snapped her back to reality.
She scanned the four-seat waiting area and looked for a person to answer her questions. There was nobody behind the desk. She spotted another door. Should she open it and move forward? Her heart thudded in her chest. What to do?
“Can I help you?” a woman said as she entered the room.
“Ah, yes. I’m here to see Wes Scors.”
She smiled and nodded her head, as if she’d never heard of Wes.
“He called and said to meet him here. Said something about finding a . . . a . . . body.”
The woman’s smile vanished as her mouth formed an O. “Yes, I realize who you mean. I’ll let them know you’re here.” And she left the room.
Once again, Brynn was alone in the tiny waiting area. She waited several minutes, checked her phone for messages, and then sat down in the least comfortable chair she’d ever sat on.
The door opened. It was Sheriff Edge, dressed in his brown uniform, with no hat. She’d met him a few months back when they were investigating the fire at the church.
“Brynn, good to see you.” He smiled a stiff smile, rimmed in dimples. She’d not realized how handsome he was underneath the huge hat he usually wore.
“Sheriff,” she said. “How is Wes?”
“Come on back,” he said. “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated?” Brynn followed him back into an open area with desks scattered haphazardly. Two offices sat off to the side.
“Yeah,” he said. She continued to follow him into an office where Wes sat, pale, frightened.
“Wes? Are you okay?”
His eyes watered and he shook his head. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“He’s a little shaken,” Sheriff Edge said.
“As anybody would be, I suppose,” Brynn said. “You don’t run into something like that every day.”
“You can take him home,” the sheriff said, turning to Wes. “But as we talked about, please don’t go anywhere out of the area.”
Wes nodded.
Brynn was confused. “Well, of course not; he lives here, works here. Why would he leave?”
The sheriff frowned. “Right now, Brynn, he’s our only person of interest.”
Brynn frowned. “Come again?”
“I’m sorry, but it’s true. He’s not quite a suspect, but you understand we have to look at everybody who’s come into contact with the scene.” He spoke slowly and calmly, as if he was attempting to soothe her with his voice.
Brynn felt a little better. Of course. That makes sense. Her stomach settled. “I understand. I’m sure the more you investigate you’ll find he had nothing to do with the death. Who was it? Who did he find?”
“Donny Iser. He was a summer helper at the Hardy place.”
Another summer helper dead?
“That’s strange. That’s the second summer helper who’s died,” Brynn said.
The sheriff nodded with grim acknowledgment.
“Was he killed? I mean, how did he die?” Brynn asked.
“Let’s just say, it’s more than suspicious.” Sheriff Edge used air quotes around suspicious.
What was going on around here? First the tractor accident where a good man supposedly ran over a helper and now this? Brynn wanted to go home and crawl in bed beneath her warm quilt.
Brynn turned to Wes. “Are you ready to go?”
He looked at the sheriff. “Is it okay?”
“For now, but like I said . . .”
“I won’t go anywhere. I’ve got nothing to hide,” Wes said, his voice hushed, as if breathless. He stood. “Let’s go home, Brynn.”
He swayed. Brynn caught him by the arm. “Are you all right?”
He nodded. “I stood up too fast. I’m fine.”
And it’s not every day you’re a person of interest in a murder.
Brynn held his elbow, and they walked out of the cramped office into the larger room.
* * *
“Can they really imagine I killed a man?” Wes said as they drove away from the station.
“Of course not. They need to investigate every lead. You found the body. I don’t know this to be true, but I’ve seen on TV that sometimes killers will call the police and pretend they found a body.”
“Well, that’s stupid.”
“It’s a cat-and-mouse game,” Brynn said. “Deep down, they want to be caught.”
He paused. “I’ve never watched those shows. I don’t like any of them. They’re too ridiculous. Yet here I am in the middle of a murder investigation.”
“Now, Wes,” Brynn said. “They aren’t sure that’s what happened. They’re not even calling it a murder.”
She stopped at a stop sign and looked over at Wes, who frowned.
“Maybe they’re not calling it that yet, but I saw him. And it was definitely a murder. He couldn’t have shot himself in the back like that.” His voice cracked.
Brynn’s heart almost jumped out of her mouth. “What? Oh, Wes. I’m so sorry you had to see that. How awful for you.”
“Yeah, it was awful. I doubt I’m ever going to get it out of my head.”
Brynn continued driving.
“I hope they find out who killed him soon,” he said. “Whoever did it is definitely a dangerous person. We better make sure to lock up everything tonight.”
Brynn shivered.