Page 53

Seven years. Thousands of pieces of paperwork. Hours on the witness stand. Weeks of stake-outs. Every single one was tainted by the memory of him. They punished nine men but let the final man, the worst man, walked.

Sometimes she wondered if that’s when the rage started boiling up. Like a leak of molten lava forcing its way through that crack, she began leaking it. What good was justice if it didn’t come for everyone equally? What was the point of working her ass off day after day, year after year, only to see criminals walk free, back into the world to inflict any manner of harm they chose? Where were the checks and balances she thought held the world together, made it better, and helped the good guys come out on top?

At some point, she stopped being able to understand why her hands were tied. And that was when that beast prowling inside her opened its eyes for the first time.

Because too many bad men got away with it.

And she was done letting it happen.

The autopsy report fell, its pages scattered across the table. It was happening again. There was no running from it. No running from them. Sheriff Malis was going to cover up Alex’s death with the help of everyone in his town. How many of them were in on it? How far did it reach? How many more lies would the coroner tell just to erase it all?

“That offer for food still stand?” Yanked from the tsunami of emotions inside her, she found Sam standing next to the table. Her oversized rucksack looked like it was going to pull her over.

The girl looked rougher. Her skin sunken in from malnutrition. Her hair was knotted at the base of her neck, covered in the same bandana.

“What?” She croaked.

“Food? You owe me.”

“Right, right. Sit down.” Vera quickly gathered the papers and shoved them inside the folder. Her jaw ached from where she was clenching it, her chest tight against the lies. Adjusting her jacket, she took a second to recover. She waved her hand at the opposite seat. “I didn’t think I’d see you again, Sam.”

Since meeting her, they received a brief report on the girl’s criminal history. Nineteen years old, a native to Cheyenne, Wyoming. Five counts of theft, squatting, and trespassing since she became an adult. Her juvenile records weren’t so clean either but for the most part, she appeared on paper, and in person, to be someone trying to survive life.

The girl lifted a thin shoulder, only a hoodie covering her against the cold. “You offered free food, it’s not rocket science.” The waitress returned and took their orders. Sam took full advantage, asking for a full breakfast platter and two sandwiches to go.

She lifted a dirty finger at her face. "You look like you saw a ghost."

Vera gave a pinched smile. “When’s the last time you ate a real meal?”

“Couldn’t tell you. I found a good ham and cheese when I passed into Colorado but that’s about it.” The girl turned her butter knife over between her thumb and forefinger, eyes on the table.

She came across a handful of kids like Sam over the years. Unsupported, untrusting. The world gnawed on them like bones, spit them out, and then turned its back. Drugs, alcohol, and any number of addictions plagued many. Not to mention the typical lack of familial and financial stability. This wasn’t a person willing to trust her, especially since she said she was a PI, a kissing cousin to law enforcement.

“You want to talk about it?” Vera asked.

“About the sandwich? No.”

She forced herself not to lean forward, to not encroach on the space the young woman took up precariously.

“Why do you look like someone shit in your cereal?” Sam’s eyes fell on the folder where the edges of the pages peeked out.

“Tell me what was in those woods at the house, Sam.” The knife dropped onto the table with a clang, drawing a few curious eyes.

She wet her thin lips. “I have no fucking clue and I don’t want to know. This whole place is fucked up.”

“I can’t disagree with you there. Did you see anything while you were squatting?”

Sam rolled her eyes at the word. “It’s not hurting anyone to stay in empty houses so I don’t die outside and… no. I didn’t see anything.” She peered at her from beneath her brows. “Did you?”

“No, but whatever is in the woods is more curious than I’m comfortable with. Stay out of them, alright?”

Sam huffed a laugh as her coffee came. “I’m not going back into those woods if you put a gun to my head. Fuck no, not after seeing that body.” Her drink hesitated just in front of her lips.

“I’m just glad someone found him. Will you tell me more about what happened?” She took a sip of her own coffee to cover her anticipation. Her skin had gotten that itchy feeling to it again. Dry and uncomfortable, like it fit wrong.

“It’s like I told you, I was gonna camp for the night and I came across his body. Naked, cut to hell, it was… bad. When the Sheriff came to investigate he was surprised. I heard him cursing at the other deputies to clean it up as fast as possible. That was just before he searched my shit and had me put into holding. Prick.”

“He didn’t think you had anything to do with it?”