The sun had set hours ago—the vast sky going from a dark blue to a lush indigo to a heavy black—and it was almost ten o’clock when Sheriff Tom Gilbert arrived home. He wasn’t driving his Ford pickup but one of the cruisers. Erik figured he had come straight from the scene out on the highway and hadn’t bothered to stop by the station to swap vehicles.
Erik was parked down the street, angled so he had a good view of the house, and as soon as the sheriff had pulled into the driveway, Erik exited his own vehicle and hurried up the block. When he reached the house, the old man was already on the walkway headed to the front door, his pace sluggish, his shoulders slouched.
“Sheriff Gilbert.”
The sheriff paused for a beat, issued a heavy sigh, and turned to find Erik striding up his driveway. His gaze was cautious at first, but once he realized it was one of his deputies, his eyes hardened.
“Christ, Johnson, I thought you were a reporter. What the hell are you doing here?”
Erik stopped short, raised his hands to his sides to show he meant no harm.
“I wanted to talk.”
Sheriff Gilbert shook his head, issued another heavy sigh.
“Nothing to discuss, son. Not until the investigation is over.”
“How long will that take?”
“Off the top of my head, I’m not sure, and right now it’s the least of my worries. Do yourself a favor and head home.”
As the man started to turn away, Erik said, “You know I had nothing to do with any of this.”
Sheriff Gilbert took another breath, nodded slowly as he regarded his deputy.
“I know, son. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Honestly—”
He glanced at the house to make sure his wife wasn’t watching or eavesdropping, and then dropped his voice.
“Can’t say I blame you for knocking boots with the girl. She sure is a looker. But after what she did”—the sheriff shook his head—“we need to follow protocol. I mean, it don’t look good we found you half-naked in her place. You understand that, don’t you?”
“I do, sir.”
“And then what happened later today”—another shake of the head, this time with more anger—“shit, son, you shoulda seen what was done to that car. Both men burned alive inside. Your girl nowhere in sight.”
“She couldn’t have done that on her own.”
“Oh, I know it. Those federal investigators who came over from Dallas know it, too. They got a BOLO out for your girl. For her and whoever she’s working with.”
Erik chewed the inside of his mouth. It was a nervous tic he’d developed from his years in the foster care system when he became anxious. He’d come here to confess, to tell Sheriff Gilbert how he’d snuck into the station to confront Jen—or Holly, if that was her real name—and how she told him the lawyer who had come to see her wasn’t a real lawyer and how her family was in danger. He hadn’t called the number she gave him—he hadn’t really been listening at the time, anyway, too furious after what he’d learned, and only remembered half the number—but he had sensed something in her eyes when she spoke to him, a vulnerability he had never seen from her before, not even when they were having sex.
“Sir, the lawyer—”
Sheriff Gilbert cut him off with a heavy sigh.
“Yes, I know. She’s dead. They’re trying to determine when she was murdered.”
The sheriff noted the frown on Erik’s face, and sighed again.
“Goddamn it. You didn’t know? Of course you didn’t know.”
“The lawyer was murdered?”
“That’s right. They wanted to contact her about her client going missing the way she did. She gave her ID when she arrived at the station, and all her information was logged, and when she didn’t answer her phone, we sent somebody out there and—”
Sheriff Gilbert shook his head.
“Look, I can’t be talking about this with you. Not while you’re under investigation.”
Erik took a step forward, his entire body on edge, Jen or Holly’s voice still echoing in his ears.
That woman—she’s not a real lawyer.
“Sir, are we sure she’s even a lawyer?”
The sheriff frowned.
“What kind of question is that? Of course we’re sure she’s a lawyer. But the woman who came to see your girlfriend”—he shrugged—“we don’t know who the fuck she is.”
This stopped Erik cold. He’d thought Sheriff Gilbert meant the woman who came to see Jen or Holly had been found murdered.
“Wait. Are you saying—”
Sheriff Gilbert cut him off again.
“That the woman who came to the station was impersonating the woman we found murdered? That’s right. Now look, Johnson, you really need to leave. I know you want to help, but you just can’t do that right now. Not until the investigation is over. And before you ask, no, I don’t know how long that’ll be.”
Erik nodded. This was more than he’d expected to get. He respected Sheriff Gilbert, almost saw the man as a father figure, and he hated to disappoint him.
The front door opened a crack, and Mrs. Gilbert peeked out.
“Tom?”
The sheriff said, “Be right there, dear.”
He waited for his wife to shut the door before clearing his throat, which Erik knew was his prompt to leave.
But Erik couldn’t leave. Not yet.
“Sir, what are the chances I’ll be reinstated?”
There was no immediate answer from the sheriff. The man watched him for a beat too long, and even in the dark Erik saw the sadness in the man’s eyes.
“I don’t know, son. It don’t look too good, especially after what happened to those Marshals today. That’s four men dead now because of your girl.”
Erik had to steel himself, keep his voice calm and steady.
“She’s not my girl, and I had nothing to do with any of that.”
“I know, son. But something like this, heads always got to roll. Especially when the papers find out you were with her this morning. It ain’t gonna come from me, but it’s gonna get out at some point …”
Sheriff Gilbert trailed off, shaking his head.
“Keep your chin up. Head on home and get some rest. I need to get some rest, too. Today was a long day, and something tells me tomorrow is gonna be even longer.”