Prologue
“The conclusion I’ve come to is an easy one, even if it is a frustrating one.” Detective Lovett dropped the box on the sheriff’s desk. It landed with a notable thud. “We need help—and I’m talking specific help, not just me and an unlimited supply of coffee.”
Sheriff Chamblin let out a breath that sank his shoulders and protruded his belly. He was at his desk but wasn’t happy about it. He was a man who liked to pound the pavement, not pour over paperwork. Plus, with the way things had ebbed and flowed from quiet to downright loud in Kelby Creek throughout the last year or so, it was hard to feel at ease anywhere, most notably behind a desk.
So Chamblin hadn’t been in the best of moods before the detective had come in and now, with Lovett’s conclusion, he feared it wasn’t going to get any better.
Chamblin spelled out the obvious. “You want the task force.”
Lovett nodded. “Normally a place so small wouldn’t need one, but given Kelby Creek’s history, there’re a lot more cold cases that we need to look into. Ones that we thought were resolved but weren’t. Ones that we thought we had the right person for but—”
“But we don’t,” Chamblin finished. He sighed again and motioned to the box. “We have enough of these cases for an actual task force? What does that even entail? Two people? Four? How would you have handled this in Seattle?”
The detective thumbed at his wedding band and shrugged.
“In Seattle we would have had more than enough people to switch their gears, but here?” He thought a moment. “I’m going to suggest that eventually we have two people but, considering we don’t have people lining up to fill the department at the moment, I’d say try for one first. See how that goes. Worst case, it’s a glorified trial period. Best case, it does what the rest of us are trying to do.”
Chamblin snorted. “And what’s that exactly?”
Detective Lovett smiled but didn’t return the sarcasm.
“Make the town trust this department again, one good deed at a time.” He tapped the box, his expression turning serious. “They’re not the only ones who deserve justice.”
The sheriff couldn’t disagree.
“Whoever we hire, they’ll need to be above reproach,” he said. “Because if they’re anything but trustworthy and straightforward, this town will eat them alive. It’s one thing to do right by Kelby Creek when things pop up. It’s another to dive into the past and muck around. Whoever does that is going to have their work more than cut out for them.”
Lovett nodded. Then he pulled out a piece of paper with a name and number written on it. He passed it over to the sheriff. “That is why I think we should reach out to him.”
Chamblin had to read the name twice. Just so he knew he wasn’t mistaken. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Detective Lovett shrugged. “Find me a more motivated individual and I’ll recommend them instead.”
After a moment, Chamblin admitted defeat.
“It’ll take some talking to get him back into law enforcement after what happened. And I’m not sure talking will even do anything. We talk about righting the wrongs of this department’s past, but there’s not a thing we can do to right the wrong of what happened to him.”
Lovett’s expression softened.
“He’s good people and, no matter how life beats good people down, they always find a time to stand right back up.” He thumped the piece of paper on the desk twice. “He’ll take the job. I bet my badge on it.”
There was only one way to find out.
The sheriff picked up the phone and dialed the number. It rang as he traced the name on the paper for the third time.
Kenneth Gray was either about to be intrigued or really, really angry.