Page 51 of Distress Signal

Her finger traveled up and down a list before tapping it with a long, manicured fingernail. “Yes, I’ve got you right here. One moment while I buzz him.” She indicated to a row of chairs by the wall. “Please have a seat.”

I nodded, but I was too restless to sit, so I wandered around the small lobby, looking at the photographs on the walls.

One of my favorite pastimes was looking at old photos, studying the composition, framing, and perspective. Wondering what kind of equipment might have been used given the time period, and oftentimes, imagining how I could recreate such a shot with my modern technology.

A gasp left me, hand flying to my mouth, when I eventually stopped in front of a photo proudly displayed in the center of the longest uninterrupted wall, the most recent of all the ones I’d seen so far.

The entire Lawless family, taken the day Lane was officially sworn in as sheriff, if I had to guess.

They looked exactly as they had the day I met them all, and I remembered with a jolt that was becausethishad been the reason they’d all been home. Finn and West had taken leave specifically to celebrate Lane’s accomplishment, and the rest of the brothers that had been spread around the country had come back as well.

The only two people I hadn’t met that night were the Lawless matriarch and the baby sister, both of whom made an appearance in the photo.

I couldn’t remember either of their names, though I was certain Finn or one of the other brothers had told me. Still, the family resemblance between them all was unmistakable. The little sister had hair the same shade as her mother’s, more honeyed than the brothers’ sandy blond. Their eyes varied in hues of blue, but the shape of each was the same. Baby sister couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen, but even then, she was gorgeous. Likely giving the boys at her high school the run around.

Or maybe they’d steered clear of her, given the formidable front her big brothers presented.

There was no father in the photo, though, and I was even more curious about the man who had sired these strong, striking men and that beautiful girl.

I dimly registered the buzz of a door behind me, but I’d finally allowed my attention to linger on Finn in the photo, and I couldn’t look away. Seeing him like that—buzzed hair, only a single sleeve of tattoos instead of both arms now engulfed in ink, narrower and less hardened than he appeared today—only reminded me of how much time had passed.

Being back here, back in his orbit, was, for lack of a better word, insane.

I wasn’t a believer in a conventional religious deity, but I did believe in a higher power, more like fate, and I was convinced that power wanted me back here.

But why now? And why at the cost of my sister’s safety?

“Miss Lindsey?” a deep voice asked softly from behind me, as though not wanting to startle me.

Still, my hand flew to my chest as a little squeak escaped me, heart pumping a little harder, as I spun to face the sheriff.

So we were back to “Miss Lindsey?”Interesting.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he smiled. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” Inclining his head toward the photo, he said, “That was the day I was sworn in as sheriff.”

“I figured as much,” I said. “This wasn’t long before we met, right?”

“Right,” he nodded. “Only a few days, actually.” With a pointed glance at the box under my arm, he asked, “What’s that?”

“Oh! Lainey’s journals and some of her other stuff. I thought they might be helpful.”

Well, minus the most recent one I’d found in the motel room three weeks ago, but he didn’t need to know that. Her stalker had backed off in recent months, so I doubted there’d be anything helpful in there anyway.

I wanted to hang onto one piece of my sister in case I never saw her again.

Lane took it from me, then tipped his head backward, toward the door to the inner sanctum, and I dutifully followed.

“It’s impressive,” I mused. “To have been appointed Sheriff so young.”

“I’ve been working for this department since high school,” he admitted as we moved through the bullpen, not toward an interview room like the last time I’d been here, but his office at the back of the space. “Running documents, answering the phone out front. Bertie, the desk sergeant, has been here for years, and I was her little sidekick for a while.” I snorted at his use oflittle. Hard to imagine him as anything other than this big, physically imposing man. “I went to college at Boise State, so I was close enough that I could come home on nights and weekends. I went on ride-alongs, sat in on interviews, did pretty much every job possible without being a sworn deputy. I completed the training program my final semester of university, moved home, and immediately jumped in.”

“How old are you now?” I asked.

“Thirty-six.”

I whistled low. “Sheriff at twenty-nine? Damn.”