Janine’s eyes glint like a rat that’s just stolen the cheese without getting crushed. “Don’t take this personally, but we’ve brought in outside help.”
I stand there, my heart pounding, sweat pooling beneath my arms. Dread is a block of ice in my gut. All I can think is that I’ve lost control of the case. “What are you talking about?”
As if on cue I hear the door behind me click open. I turn to see a tall, darkhaired man enter the room. The long, black coat tells me he’s not from around here. I wonder briefly if he’s press, but when I look into his eyes, I know he’s a cop.
For a moment I feel stripped bare, as if every emotion banging around inside me is visible. Vaguely, I wonder which agency he’s with. The conservative suit hints at FBI, but I know he could also be with the state. Neither is good news.
“Kate.” The mayor pushes away from his bagel and rises. “This is Agent John Tomasetti with BCI.”
I make no move to approach him or shake his hand.
Flushing, the mayor turns his attention to the man. “Agent Tomasetti, this is our Chief of Police Kate Burkholder.”
His gaze is level as he crosses to me. I notice several things about him at once. His eyes are as dark and hard as black granite, beneath heavy brows. He’s got a poker face; his expression is impossible to read. I guess him to be about forty years old. He’s looking at me as if I’m some stand-up comic whose jokes are falling flat. I don’t want him here and he knows it. But there’s not a damn thing I can do about it, and that lack of control brings a hard rush of anxiety.
“Chief Burkholder.” He extends his hand. “It sounds like you have your hands full.”
I accept the handshake. His palm is warm, dry and slightly rough. His grip is substantial, but not too tight. “It’s been a tough case,” I hear myself say.
He’s got a black carry-on slung over his shoulder, and I realize he’s just arrived in town. At this point, I should thank him for being here and offer to drive him to the station. Once there I would introduce him to the team and brief him on the case. Afterward, in keeping with cop etiquette, I’d probably take him out for dinner, some politically incorrect jokes and war stories, and a few too many drinks. I know it’s petty, unprofessional and self-defeating, but I’m not going to do any of those things.
“I’m here to assist any way I can,” he offers.
“I’m sure the council appreciates that.”
A ghost of a smile whispers across his face.
“I’ve got to get back to work.” Extricating my hand from his, I turn and start toward the door. My heart pounds like a piston as I yank it open. I can’t quiet the little voice telling me I handled that all wrong. I should have been more diplomatic. More professional. I should have kept my cool.
Someone calls out to me, but I don’t stop. I’m too angry to be reasonable. Most of that anger is directed at myself. I shouldn’t have let this happen. The truth of the matter is I should have already requested assistance from another agency.
In the hall, I stride to the elevator and slam my fist down on the button. I don’t wait for the car to arrive. I’m heading toward the stairs when I hear my name. I turn to see Auggie striding toward me. “Kate! Wait!”
I don’t want to talk to him, but I can’t run away from this. I stop and watch him approach.
“I’m sorry about what happened in there.” His expression reminds me of a little dog that has just pissed on the floor and knows he’s about to be punished.
“Were you part of it?” My statement requires no explanation.
“Look, I know you didn’t want to call in BCI just yet, but—”
“A heads-up would have been nice, Auggie.”
He flushes darkly. “Kate, it was out of my hands.”
My temper is lit, but this isn’t the time or place for a political coup. The damage has been done. Besides, I have a much more dangerous beast to slay.
Glancing toward the chambers, he lowers his voice. “Watch Norm,” he says. “He’s after you.”
My cell phone trills, but I ignore it. “Maybe that’s because I caught him driving drunk and arrested him.”
“He’s going to get the sheriff’s office involved, too, Kate.”
Bastard, I think and tug the phone from my belt. “What?” “Chief!” Mona’s voice is high and tight. “I just got a call from Bob Stedt’s boy. Him and his girlfriend found a dead body out at the old Huffman place.”
The words turn my blood to ice water. I look at Auggie, who’s staring at me with an odd mix of concern and alarm on his face.
“Call Glock.” I turn away from Auggie, wishing I’d run from the building when I had the chance. “Tell him to meet me there. Tell those kids to get in their vehicle and lock the doors. Tell them not to touch anything. Tell them not to leave the scene, unless they’re in danger. Get ahold of Doc Coblentz and tell him to stand by. I’m on my way.”
My hand shakes as I shove the cell into its nest. I look at Auggie. I feel sick inside, like I’ve done something terrible.