Page 25

Story: Silent Grave

"My partner, Jim Martinez—you remember him? He saw what I couldn't. That I was making mistakes, missing details. One night, after I'd been awake for thirty-six hours straight..." He smiled at the memory. "He handcuffed me to my own desk."
"He what?"
"Wouldn't release me until I got some sleep. I was furious, of course. Thought he was sabotaging the investigation." Gabriel took a sip of coffee. "But when I woke up six hours later, my mind was clear enough to spot the pattern we'd been missing. Caught the guy that afternoon."
Sheila sank into the chair beside him, her body betraying her with its need for rest. "This is different. Every hour we waste—"
"Sleeping isn't a waste if it helps you see what you've been missing." He studied her face. "You're good at this job, Sheila. Maybe better than I was. But you're not superhuman."
Maybe better than I was—the words echoed in Sheila's head. She'd forgotten how much she lived in the overlapping shadows of her father and sister. Would Natalie have said the same thing? Was she even close to the Sheriff Natalie had been?
She was still pondering this when a familiar voice called out: "Sheila?"
She turned to find Finn approaching, looking concerned as he took in her exhausted state.
Before she could warn him about the dirt covering her clothes, he pulled her into an embrace. Despite her exhaustion, she found herself melting into his arms, letting out a long breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
"Star's worried about you," he said softly against her hair.
Sheila pulled back to look at him. "Is she okay?"
"She's with Mrs. Jacobs for dinner. Wasn't happy about it—said fourteen is too old for a babysitter. But with everything going on..." He shrugged. "Mrs. Jacobs knows how to handle her moods."
Gabriel quietly excused himself, giving them space. Sheila watched him limp toward the command post, then turned back to Finn.
"Has she mentioned Jake again?" she asked.
Sheila had recently discovered Star was dating a young man who had to be at least eighteen years old. Sheila had brought Star home, but not before calling in an officer to arrest Jake. After doing some digging into Jake's past, she knew she'd made the right decision. Jake had been in and out of court since his earliest teenage years on charges ranging from shoplifting to arson, which only underscored the importance of keeping him away from Star, who might easily see in Jake a fellow outsider who understood her far better than her upstanding guardian ever could.
Smart as Star was, she was still young and impressionable. Which was why it was so very important for Sheila to protect her.
Still, Sheila knew better than to think that arresting Jake would immediately solve the issue. Even if he got jail time—and he very well might, considering his checkered history—it would do nothing to heal the wounds in Star's heart, created by the abandonment of one parent and the abuse of the other.
Until those wounds were healed, Star would always be vulnerable to those looking to take advantage of her. Sheila hoped to play a role in healing those wounds, but the truth was that she felt woefully inadequate for the task. She supposed only time would tell if this was true.
She looked at Finn, who was pondering her question about Jake.
"No," he said carefully, and there was a flicker of anger in the depths of his eyes. "Not to me, anyway. I think after your talk with her about older men taking advantage of teenage girls, it finally sank in. She's been throwing herself into her photography instead."
"Good." Sheila felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. At least one thing in her life was going right. "I should call her, though, just the same."
"Already told her you would, as soon as you're done here." Finn touched her arm. "She understands, you know. More than you'd think. She keeps saying you're out there making sure no one else gets hurt."
Sheila smiled despite her exhaustion. "When did she get so wise?"
"Around the same time, she started feeling secure enough to trust us."
Sheila nodded, encouraged by this news. "And how are you healing?" she asked, gesturing at his side, where he'd been shot during a previous investigation.
"Better than yesterday." He touched his ribs carefully. "Doc says another week before I can return to full duty. Though watching you run yourself into the ground while I sit at home..." He shook his head. "It's not easy."
"I need you healthy," she said, touching his arm. "And Star needs at least one of us functioning normally right now."
"Speaking of functioning normally..." He gestured to a cooler by his truck. "I brought real food. Actual sandwiches, not those vending machine things you've probably been living on."
"I haven't been living on anything," she admitted. "Haven't really eaten today."
"Your father mentioned that might be the case." At her look, he added, "We talked earlier."