Chapter Two

Jodie managed to get Claire up and led her into the bathroom. She ran the water, undressed Claire, and helped her get in. Claire sank down until the water passed her shoulders and lapped at her neck. Everything was happening in that strange fog of being awake in the middle of the night, when you were confident you weren’t creating memories and anything you did would feel like a dream the next day. She lifted her hand out of the water and Jodie gripped it.

“It’s really scaring me that you aren’t saying anything,” Jodie whispered. “You don’t have to talk about it, but if you can just say hi...”

Claire opened her eyes and looked into Jodie’s concerned eyes. Held in that gaze, with Jodie’s hand in hers, she finally felt safe enough to say the words out loud.

“Ruck is gone.”

“What? He resigned in the middle of the night?”

Claire shook her head. “He didn’t resign. The accident. It was him. He died.”

“Oh my god. Claire...” Jodie leaned over the tub and pulled Claire to her for a crushing hug.

“I’m getting your shirt all wet.”

“Shh,” Jodie whispered. “I’m so sorry you had to see that. Is Randall on the scene?”

Claire shook her head, her face still pressed to Jodie’s neck. “Alex. Chief Crawford. The fire department is taking care of it.” She sniffled and leaned back. Jodie stroked her hair. “I can’t... process it. I just saw him. He was the last person I spoke to, besides you. He can’t...” She squeezed her eyes shut.

Jodie cupped her hand in the water and poured it down the back of Claire’s neck. It felt fantastic. Claire tried not to think of another night a lifetime ago, another bloody body...

“I know I’m not a cop,” Jodie said, “but you said it was an accident.”

Claire nodded. “That’s what Alex said.”

“Well... that’s a little weird, isn’t it? Your last conversation with him was about taking over as sheriff, and then a few hours later...”

Claire remembered the look on his face when she got into the office. He’d been odd at the park, too. Contemplative.

“Do you think he intentionally...” She furrowed her brow. “I don’t think he would do it. Or that he would do it that way. But it still might have been deliberate.”

Jodie said, “Murder?”

Claire drew her knees up so they lifted out of the water. “I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

“Do you want me to hold you?”

“Very much.”

Jodie got rid of her shirt and briefs, climbed into the tub behind Claire, and wrapped both arms around her. She traced a familiar pattern on Claire’s back, the pad of her thumb moving across her shoulder, to an X at the base of her neck, then sweeping down. The scars were long healed, nearly invisible, and covered most of her body. They were the result of her past life, a time she tried not to think about, when a group of men tied her to the back of a car and dragged her through some desert shale. Every time Jodie touched them felt like the pain of that moment was being erased a little more.

“What do you need?”

“This,” Claire said. “You.”

Jodie held her tighter. Claire hugged her knees and focused on the weight of her wife against her back to shut out everything else in the world.

***

The office was bathed in late afternoon light. Claire, at the time still using a name from another life, waited patiently as her file was examined. She noticed the nameplate on the desk: CALLUM RUCKER. She’d assumed Calvin when she heard the nickname, but she liked this better. It fit the man behind the desk well. He was sitting back in his chair in a casual slump, one hand on his chin with a finger across his lips, as the other held up a tablet computer. Occasionally his thumb would sweep to change the page. He looked like someone’s father reading the Sunday paper. Finally he finished reading and put the computer face down on his desktop, pulling his chair forward so he could lean on his elbows.

“Okay.” He examined her with eyes as blue as the harbor outside. “That’s what you look like on paper. Who are you really?”

“I’m a police officer,” Claire said. “That’s the long and short of it. Even with everything that happened, I still protected people.”

“Went out of your way to do it, seems like. Put yourself in danger more than a couple times. Why?”

Claire didn’t have an answer. “What else was I supposed to do?”

Rucker nodded and pressed his lips together. “Yeah. This...” He poked the back of the computer with one finger. “This is a past. We all have a past, Claire. I had a past when I came here. Could have lost everything. Could have ended up being nothing. But they took a chance on me. World like ours, it’s pretty damn easy for a white man to get a second chance. Seems like the appropriate thing to do with that is pass it along. You got dealt a rough hand. One of the roughest I’ve seen in a really long time, honestly. Let me do what I can to help make things easier for you from now on.”

He extended a hand across the desk. “Welcome aboard.”

Claire smiled and gripped his hand.

***

“No. No, she’s asleep right now.” A pause. “Yes, I think so, too. I’ll see what she says when she wakes up. Okay. Thank you for letting me know.”

By the time Jodie ended the call, Claire had rolled onto her back. Jodie looked down at her and smiled sadly. The phone in her hand was Claire’s. She reached down and brushed the hair away from Claire’s face.

“Hey. You can go back to sleep if you need to. Randall’s at the station, and everything’s being taken care of. I called and said I might not be in today if you need someone to be with you.”

Claire pushed herself up and shook her head. “There are things I need to do. I don’t remember getting out of the tub.”

“You were practically asleep. I figured you’d be more comfortable here.”

“Thank you.” She found Jodie’s hand, linked their fingers, and pulled it up to kiss her knuckles. Her lips brushed the wedding ring she’d put there four years earlier. “Did you sleep at all?”

“I got the sleep I needed,” Jodie said.

“That’s not an answer.”

Jodie said, “No, but it’s what you’re getting. I slept next to you.” Jodie leaned in and kissed Claire’s cheek. “I’ll drive you wherever you need to go. Whatever you need me for today, I’m there.”

“Okay. Was that Randall on the phone a second ago?”

“No. The mayor wants to see you whenever you’re available. She said come by when it’s convenient for you and she’ll make time.”

Claire rubbed her face. “I should probably go by the station first. See how Randall is holding up.”

“Your chariot awaits whenever you’re ready.”

Claire dressed in a clean uniform while Jodie poured coffee into a pair of to-go cups. She couldn’t drive the cruiser, so they took Jodie’s car into town.

Randall’s van was the only vehicle in the station’s lot. Inside, they found him at the front desk hunched over his cell phone, typing something into a text message. At the moment his eyes were puffy and red with tears that had either just run dry or were about to overflow.

Randall White was a big man, tall and lanky with just enough muscle to come across as imposing. His blonde hair was cut short on top and shaved on the sides, though Claire knew he’d never served with the military. He had been with the department since long before Claire showed up, and seeing him made her think again about how she seemed to be jumping the line.

“Claire. Hey.” He slipped off his chair and went to her, putting one arm around her for a quick squeeze. “Alex told me you were on-site. That must have been terrible.”

“Yeah,” Claire said. “Where’s Minnie?”

“I told her to stay home. She’s devastated. I was just texting with some people from her church group to make sure she had someone with her.” He looked at Jodie and managed a smile. “Hey, Joe.”

She nodded a greeting, staying quiet in acknowledgment that she wasn’t part of their work conversation.

“Listen, uh...” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m-I’m not sure, uh... Minnie said Ruck talked to you yesterday, but I don’t know if it was about...” His eyes cut toward Rucker’s office.

“Yeah, he told me. I’m not sure I accepted. Not sure I have much of a choice now, though.”

Randall nodded. “If it helps, you’re who I would choose for the job if we had a choice. You’re a good cop. We’re lucky to have you.”

“Thanks,” Claire muttered. “Do you have things under control here? I need to go talk with the mayor.”

“Yeah, sure. As much as anyone can, anyway. Go on.”

She gave his arm a squeeze, thanked him, and headed out again. City Hall was literally across the street from the station, so they walked over. The mayor’s office was on the second floor, and Claire could hear the phone ringing as soon as they reached the top of the stairs. Jodie touched Claire’s arm to let her know she was hanging back, and Claire nodded as she continued forward.

The mayor’s secretary was a man named Connor, and he was in the middle of a conversation with someone on the phone. The door was open behind him and, when he saw Claire coming, he stood and rapped his knuckles twice on the frame without changing his tone. He smiled at Claire, that strange tight expression that didn’t convey humor or warmth. It was a near-grimace that said, “I know you’re in pain, and I don’t know how to deal with that.”

The door opened wider and Patricia Hood-Colby stepped out. Claire was always startled by how gorgeous the mayor was. Olive-skinned, chestnut hair, supermodel smile, always perfectly composed. Today she was in a lime-green top and a black skirt, and her hair was pinned up in a tight bun. She looked like the kind of school librarian fantasies were made of.

“Deputy Curran. Claire.” She stepped out of her office, taking a few steps forward to escort Claire inside. “I’m so terribly sorry about Cal.” She turned to her secretary and made a phone sign with her hand, then cut it to the side. He nodded his understanding and she closed the door. “This is a terrible question to ask, but how are you holding up?”

Claire stood between the two visitor chairs in front of the mayor’s desk. “I don’t know if there’s a right answer to that.”

“There is, but no one wants to say ‘terrible, barely holding it together.’ But in this case, you’re absolutely justified.” She sat on the edge of her desk. “I know how much he meant to you. He meant a lot to everyone on this island, but you especially. He fought for you. Probably fought harder than you knew.”

“Uh-huh.” Claire couldn’t say more without risking an emotional breakdown.

Patricia gave her a moment before continuing. “I don’t know if he had a chance to talk to you about something he’d been considering. It had to do with his eventual retirement.”

Claire couldn’t help but laugh. “Shit. Was I literally the last person he mentioned it to?”

Patricia smiled. “It’s possible. He liked to have his ducks in a row before he pulled the trigger. I admit, I was a little skeptical when he first brought it up. Your history was a little concerning. But he convinced me. And given the circumstances, we don’t have much of a choice. I’m surprised Deputy White isn’t the one taking over.”

“His wife,” Claire said. “She’s partially paralyzed, and she has appointments with a specialist in Seattle. He needs time off to take her.”

“Oh, right. Of course. All the same, I’d like to give you the choice. We need someone to step in as acting sheriff until we have an election. Cal Rucker’s recommendation is all I need. The job is yours if you want it.”

“Okay,” Claire said.

“Okay?”

Claire shrugged. “If it was Ruck’s preference, I can fill in until the people have a chance to decide. I think it’s better than bringing in some stranger.”

“I agree.” Patricia nodded and stood up. “I don’t think congratulations are appropriate under the circumstances, so I’ll just wish you well in the job. I know you’ll do Ruck proud.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Patricia offered her hand. “I’ll take care of all the official stuff. I want you and Randall and everyone with the department to know we’re thinking of them.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Jodie was waiting outside when Claire left the office. She waited until they were outside, walking back to the car, before she spoke.

“So where to now?”

“I don’t know,” Claire admitted. “I think I should just go in and... be around for a while. You should go to work.”

“Are you sure?”

Claire stopped on the sidewalk and put her hands on Jodie’s shoulders. “You’ve been amazing since last night. But honestly, I need some time to myself to think. And I’m worried about you, too. This has been a lot. If you don’t go to work, then go home and get some rest. I don’t want you burning out in case tomorrow is even tougher.” She kissed Jodie’s forehead. “You got me through today, which should have been one of my most difficult days in a long time.”

Jodie smiled. “That’s why you keep me around.”

“Among other reasons.” Claire smiled and reached to take Jodie’s hands. “Marriage, right? Balance. You got me through the rapids, now I can handle myself for a few hours. And tonight when I get home, I’ll reward you for your diligence with a fantastic meal.”

“That sounds pretty great actually.”

“I thought it might.”

Jodie kissed the corner of Claire’s mouth. “Call me if you need anything. Even if it’s just a quick panic attack or something. You know I’m here for you even when I’m not standing right beside you.”

“Always. Now go.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They kissed goodbye, and Claire waited until Jodie drove off before she went into the building.

Randall was at his desk and waved her over. “Chief Crawford sent over a bunch of pictures she took of the accident.”

Claire braced herself as she crossed the room. Randall got up, partially to give her the seat but more so he could stop looking at the pictures.

The first shot was the entire scene, framed on either side by a dark curtain of trees. Claire grimaced but managed to keep her eyes open. The next shot was closer and had been taken after the engine fire was extinguished. The fire was odd. Cars didn’t burst into flames upon wrecking, not like they did in the movies. She would have to ask Jodie what might have caused that. The car door was open, and she got a clear look at Ruck’s bloody collar. She averted her gaze and narrowed her eyes at something in the photo.

“Is there a clear picture of the driver’s side door?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Randall said from the other side of the desk.

Claire scrolled until she found it. The window was shattered, like the windshield. But it was the pattern that drew her attention.

“Randall, come here.” He came around and she pointed. “This didn’t break from the impact. Look. The breakage spreads out from this spot.” She went back up to the image of the windshield. “The same pattern is here, but it’s not as obvious because the windshield shattered when he hit the tree. But you can still see the cracks from the first breakage on the glass that remains.”

“Okay,” Randall said. “Sorry, I don’t see what that means. Ruck’s windows were already broken when he wrecked?”

Claire opened his desk drawer and took out a legal pad. She drew a quick sketch of a car. “The break in the driver’s side window is here. I think something broke it, then traveled at an angle to the windshield.” She drew a dotted line. “We don’t know the exact angle, but it had to have been close to this, or else it would’ve hit him.”

“What would’ve hit him? What do you think it was?”

“A bullet.”

***

The car had already been towed, and Claire was grateful for that small mercy. Randall revealed his first task that morning had been to call the funeral home so they could retrieve Ruck’s body, and she felt guilty forcing that responsibility on him. Rausch, the mortician, had agreed to preserve the remains until Claire gave the all-clear to begin work. At the time, it felt like the only proper thing to do, but now Claire was grateful nothing had been done, just in case there was evidence of a crime.

Randall drove to the scene. Alex had blocked off one lane with yellow tape, covering the entire area from where the car first went off the road to where it had stopped. Randall got the metal detector from the trunk while Claire walked to the edge of the road. She started at the first tire tracks and walked backward, estimating the speed he might have been going to figure out the arc. When she was facing straight ahead, she motioned Randall over.

“Best guess, he was around here when he suddenly lost control.” She held out her arm and marked the angle. “He could have swerved a little before he finally went off-road.”

Randall said, “We could go to the car, see if we can figure out an exact angle.”

Claire shook her head. “The exit point was destroyed, so the angle would be too wide. It entered the car...” She held up her left hand. “Approximately here. She used her right hand to trace a line, continuing until her arm was fully extended. “We should start the search in that area. If we don’t find anything, we move farther up the road.”

“Needle in a haystack,” Randall said, but he was already walking off the pavement.

“We’re not even confident there will be a needle in this haystack.”

Randall said, “But it’s for Ruck.”

“For Ruck,” Claire said.

Randall adjusted his grip on the metal detector, started to sweep it, then stopped. He stared at something on the ground, and then held up one hand to motion her over.

“Hey, Claire. C’mere.”

“Do you see something?” She walked over to join him.

“I think Ruck’s looking out for us.” He pointed down. “Careful. Is that...?”

Claire looked where he was pointing. She saw pebbles scattered randomly, various shapes and sizes, most of them obscured by the tall grass. She was about to ask him for a clearer direction to look when she spotted it. Small, gray, oddly-shaped.

“Holy hell,” she muttered as she took a baggie out of her pocket. “This might not mean anything. It could be from a hunter.”

“That small of a caliber?” Randall said. “This close to a road?”

Claire crouched and used the bag to lift the slug. “It’s not unheard of.” She closed the bag and held it up to look at it through the plastic. Randall leaned down on the other side of the bag.

“Okay. So let’s say this is the little guy who broke through Ruck’s driver’s side window, then his windshield, and made him crash. Do you think someone actually tried to run him off the road? Are you saying someone was trying to kill him?”

“I’m not saying anything yet,” Claire said. “But I went looking for a bullet, half-hoping I wouldn’t find one, and now... here it is. We didn’t have an answer for why Ruck went off the road.” She looked up at the sky. It was still overcast. “No snow yet. Definitely no ice.”

Randall said, “It was late. He wasn’t the youngest guy on the island. He could have drifted off for just a second.”

Claire nodded. “A viable theory. It doesn’t explain the cracks in the glass, though. And there’s another question we need to ask.”

“Yeah?”

“Ruck lives on Cedar Point. Over a mile that way.” She pointed back toward town. “His house was actually east of the park. But he was driving west, out into the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night. Where the hell was he going?”

Randall straightened and looked west, as if there was a sign in the distance to reveal the truth. The road continued for about a mile before it curved gently to the south and seemed to vanish into the trees.

“Nothing’s out there,” he said, “not until you hit the other side of the island.”

“Nothing we know of.” Claire stood and scanned the ground for any further evidence. “Let’s keep looking to see if there’s anything else to find.”

Randall said, “Claire, if this wasn’t just a car accident--”

“I know,” she said, cutting him off before he could actually say the words. “I know. Let’s just work the scene for now, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

***

They spent most of the day at the scene. Randall scoured the ground for any other ammunition, while Claire took her own photos of tire tracks and remains of the wreckage. She also called Rausch and confirmed Rucker hadn’t been hit by the bullet. He confirmed there was no evidence of that, but also said there were small shards of safety glass in his neck and lower jaw. It might have happened in the crash, but it also supported her theory of a bullet hitting the window before he went off-road. They finally headed back to town when they’d covered the length of the tire tracks twice over.

“There’s never been anything like this since I’ve been here,” Claire said when they were in the car, without clarifying exactly what ‘this’ entailed.

Randall said, “To be perfectly honest, Claire, me neither. Broken windows, vandalism, theft. A couple of domestic disputes, sure. But this? Bullets? Nothing like that. What do we do now?”

“We wait until we have a gun to compare this bullet to,” Claire said. “Odds are good it might have been someone fooling around with a gun and things went too far.”

He looked over at her. “You actually think that?”

There were too many questions and coincidences. Where had Rucker been going? What was he brooding over in the office? Why had he chosen that day to tell her about his retirement plans? If the shooting was intentional, who in town would have wanted to hurt him?

“No,” she admitted. “I don’t.”

They picked up lunch and took it to the office. Claire ate quickly and then went into Rucker’s office. Her office, not that she planned to think of it like that any time soon. She sat behind the desk, turned on the computer, and examined everything laid out in front of her. The mayor was right: he liked to have everything lined up before he moved on something. He didn’t do half-measures and he hated walking into a situation unprepared. If he’d been working on something, it would be on his desk or his computer.

The only problem was that she had no idea what it might look like.

“Come on, Ruck,” she muttered under her breath. “You couldn’t have left a big envelope with my name on it?”

The computer finished booting up and she looked at the desktop. In the center of the screen, just under the logo for the department, was a folder labeled LANCELOT. She smiled and blinked back tears.

“My apologies, Cal.”

She clicked on the folder and found a wall of files. Videos, texts, jpgs, all labeled with dates and locations. At the top of the folder was a video file named 0000-Watch Me First. According to the date, it had been saved less than a week ago. She found his headphones in the bottom drawer of the desk and slipped them on. Randall was the only person who might overhear what was about to be said, but she wanted to hear what it was before she shared it with anyone, even him. She clicked on the video and a window popped up.

Ruck was sitting at his desk. It was night, and she assumed he’d filmed it by propping his phone up against a coffee mug. He looked exhausted, but he still smiled and folded his hands on the desk in front of him.

“Hi, Claire,” he said.

She bit down on her thumb so she wouldn’t cry.

“I don’t want to be dramatic, but if you’re watching this then you’re sitting at my desk going through my files, and that can only mean a couple of things. None of them are very good for me, in the long run.” He chuckled softly. “But it means you’re the sheriff, and that’s good for the town. I completely believe that, and I hope you do, too.

“Something is happening on the island. I’m not entirely sure what it is yet, or who is behind it, but hopefully by the time you’re seeing this, I’ll have a lot more information saved in this folder. I’m not bringing you or Randall in on this just yet because there’s a chance it’ll all blow up in my face. If I have to become a sacrificial lamb, I’d rather keep you both safe in the dark.”

Claire paused the video and closed her eyes. Had Rucker saved their lives by staying quiet? If he’d brought them in on whatever it was, would the shooter who ran him off the road have come after the two of them as well? She waited until her breathing was steady before she resumed playing.

“Whatever happens, Claire, whether I can’t follow through or whatever else, I want you to know I have faith in you. You’ll do the right thing and you’ll keep the island safe, no matter what that looks like. Just do what you’ve always done, Claire. That’ll be enough.”

He reached for the camera and the image froze.

Claire exhaled and leaned back, pulled off her headphones, and stared at the image of Ruck. After a moment, she closed the window and opened the first file.