Page 15

Chapter 15

Tobias

Three days after finding Sophia's body, I stand in the wreckage of what used to be the Whispering Pines Pharmacy. The fourth break-in this week, and this one happened despite the owner installing a security system only yesterday. Broken bottles crunch under my boots as I move through the ransacked aisles. Prescription medications are scattered across the floor, shelving units toppled, the cash register smashed beyond recognition.

"They knew exactly when to hit," Deputy Rogers states, carefully documenting the scene. "Mr. Patel says the alarm never triggered. They cut the backup power and disabled the cellular connection."

"Like they knew he was getting a security system." I mutter, then look at Deputy Rogers, both of us thinking the same thing.

"I'll find out who installed it." She says making a note. "ER doctor says Mr. Patel will be in for at least two days; he's got a nasty concussion and two broken fingers. Doctor said he was lucky the blow to the head wasn't harder."

Lucky. The word tastes bitter. Five business owners hospitalized, one young woman murdered, and not a single solid lead. Some damn sheriff I am.

"Same M.O.?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

"Four men in masks, military precision, excessive violence. No witnesses, no prints." Brooklyn flips through her notes. "No clue if they took any drugs. And with this mess how would anyone ever know."

What are they trying to say? What's the reason? The questions are on a constant loop in my brain.

"Sheriff?" Brooklyn's voice pulls me back. "Holly called, she said you didn't answer. The mayor called a town council emergency meeting at noon."

Fuck! I check my watch, it's nine thirty. Just enough time to finish here and prepare for what will undoubtedly be an uncomfortable two hours of being grilled by frightened council members.

"I figured it was coming." I blew out my breath. "Keep the scene secured. I want forensics to go over every inch." I head toward the door, then pause. "And deputy? Good work. I know we're all running on fumes."

She nods, the dark circles under her eyes matching my own. None of us have slept properly since this all started.

"Holy shit," Deputy John Edwards steps through the swinging door to the still locked and untouched narcotics cases. "This will be a mess to clean up."

"Can you imagine if they have to give an account of each pill bottle?" Deputy Rogers says looking around. We all shook our heads and blew out our breaths.

"I came in to warn you," Rogers looks at me. "We've got a crowd outside. Quite a few that needed to pick up prescriptions today. The mood isn't the greatest and to top it off, the press is here."

"Aww, shit," I said. "First the city council and now the press. Goodie for me." Both of my faithful deputies made faces and wished me luck.

Outside, the crowd was filled with frightened faces, angry murmurs, and cell phones recording my every move. This is new, I'm not used to residents acting this way. The fear is palpable, spreading faster than we can contain it.

"Sheriff Trenton!" A reporter from the county paper rushes forward. "Can you comment on the connection between these break-ins and Sophia Vasquez's murder? Are residents safe in their homes?"

This has nothing to do with homes.

I hold up a hand, mustering my most authoritative tone. "Nothing has happened in anyone's home. We're pursuing all leads. We've spoken to all the business owners and advised them on ways to stay safe. For now, I urge everyone to remain vigilant and report any suspicious activity." I turned to leave then turned back around. "Reporting the truth is the best policy."

"What do you mean by that, Sheriff?" The reporter leaned forward with his phone out.

"I mean just that. You asked me if people were safe in their homes knowing full well that no homes have been involved. Don't scare people like that. It doesn't help. Just report the facts, that's what people need, just the facts." The crowd clapped, a few even cheered.

More questions were called out as I made my way to my vehicle. I ignore them, my mind already on the council meeting. The mayor will want answers I don't have.

Back at the station, Holly hands me a stack of messages as I walk in.

"We need to work on you answering your phone. The governor's office called. Twice. Apparently our illustrious mayor has been calling her. Let's see, Sheriff Lange, the jerk of Jackson county, wants to talk about you needing help. Channel Nine wants an exclusive." She follows me into my office. "And the jewelry on Sophia was definitely from the antique shop robbery. It matches the description and photos."

I drop into my chair, scanning the messages. "Tell the governor's office I'll call back this afternoon. If I need help from Sheriff Lange I'll call him. Which should be about a quarter past never. And absolutely no exclusives."

Holly lingers in the doorway. "You look terrible."

"Thanks."

"When's the last time you slept? Or ate something?"

I wave off her concern. "I'll sleep when we catch these bastards."

"Tobias." The use of my first name gets my attention. "You can't help anyone if you're not at your best."

She's right, but there's no time for self-care. Not with a murderer loose in my town and the council breathing down my neck.

"I'll grab something after the meeting." I reach for the pharmacy case file. "What else?"

Holly hesitates. "Ruth called."

My head snaps up. "What did she want?"

"Information about security systems. She's worried about the shop. But I don't think that's the real reason she called." Holly watches my reaction carefully. "I told her someone would call her back."

My chest tightens at the thought of seeing Ruth after three days of actively avoiding her. After finding Sophia, I couldn't bear the thought of Ruth being targeted. Distance seemed the only protection I could offer.

"Thanks." I return to the file, hoping Holly will take the hint.

She doesn't. "Don't you want to know why I think she called?"

"No," I don't look up. "I'll have Brooklyn stop by the shop."

"Coward," Holly mutters as she turns to leave.

She's right about that too but right now I can't allow myself to think about Ruth, even though that's the one place I feel like I can stop and just breathe. Shaking my head I returned to the file, forcing that copper headed beauty out of my mind.

The town hall is packed by the time I arrive. Standing room only, with residents lining the walls and spilling into the hallway. The seven council members sit at the raised table, Mayor Wilson in the center, his normally jovial face tight with concern.

As I make my way to the front, I scan the crowd. Familiar faces of business owners, many with fresh security systems installed. The Millers, who found Sophia. Erin from forensics, who didn't need to be here but came anyway. And there, halfway back, copper hair gleaming under the fluorescent lights, is Ruth.

Our eyes meet briefly before she deliberately looks away, her posture stiff. The coldness in her gaze hits me like a physical blow.

"Sheriff Trenton." Mayor Wilson's voice booms through the microphone. "We're glad you could join us. The council has called this emergency meeting to address the recent violent crimes in our community. The citizens of Whispering Pines deserve answers."

I take my place at the podium, thankful that my back is to the crowd.

"Thank you, Mayor Wilson, council members. I'm appreciative of the two hour notice of this meeting." My voice sounds steadier than I feel. "I understand your concerns. In the past ten days, we've had four violent break-ins and one homicide. I want to assure everyone that we're pursuing every possible lead."

"What leads?" Councilwoman Davis interrupts. "It's been three days since that poor girl was found, and we've heard nothing about suspects."

It's immediately clear to me this is a shark tank and I'm a piece of meat on the hook being lowered into the water. I didn't mean to come in today fighting but I'm also not going into the depths without speaking up for myself and my crew.

"I'm sorry Councilwoman Davis, why would you hear about suspects? We've found it greatly cuts down our chances of catching suspects when we release their information to the public. See then they know we're on to them."

Councilwoman Janet Davis looks embarrassed. Probably not the best play right out of the gate but come on.

"Cut the crap, Tobias." Councilman Paul Reeves leans forward. "People are terrified. Businesses are losing money because no one wants to go out. What are you actually doing besides sitting in your office having coffee?"

I took a breath before speaking and gave Reeves a look that I usually reserve for the worst criminals.

"Funny, I see people out and about all over. The break-ins have never happened in the middle of the day. They happen when stores are opening. Let's not add any more fear to an already fearful situation." A few in the crowd voiced their agreements. "Now, if you're done attacking me. I'll happily lay out what the office has been doing." I outline our enhanced patrols, the coordination with neighboring counties, and the forensic evidence being processed. The face to face meetings with each business owner in town. With each point, I feel the crowd's approval growing.

"Blah, blah, blah," Reeves says. "Sounds like a bunch of smoke to me. What you're trying to not say is you're no closer to solving these crimes?"

"That's not what I said."

"But it's what we heard." Mayor Wilson's tone is gentler but no less critical. "Perhaps it's time to consider outside assistance. The state police have offered additional resources."

The implication is clear: they don't think I can handle this. Maybe they're right.

"We're working with all available resources," I counter. "But I want to be honest—these perpetrators are highly organized and professional. They leave no evidence and plan their attacks meticulously."

"So, you're saying you can't handle this situation. I think it's time for Sheriff Trenton to step down and let someone else crack this case."

A murmur ripples through the crowd. For a moment, I'm at a loss. Then, from the center of the room, a familiar voice speaks up.

"That's not fair." Ruth stands, her cheeks flushed. "He never said that. The sheriff and his deputies are working around the clock. These criminals are deliberately targeting our business community. We should be rallying, supporting law enforcement, not attacking them. Besides Paul.” She jammed her finger towards him. “We all know what your agenda is. Your brother's run for Sheriff the last four elections, of course he's lost all four times." Several in the crowd clap. Councilman Reeves looks in shock, like he's not sure what to say.

Her defense catches me off guard. After the coldness of her earlier look, I expected anything but support. Damn, an angry Ruth is a beautiful Ruth.

"Ms. Manchester," Mayor Wilson acknowledges her. "While we appreciate your confidence, the fact remains that a young woman is dead, and four business owners have been hospitalized. The question stands: what is being done to prevent the next attack?"

All eyes return to me. I take a deep breath, collecting my thoughts.

"We've implemented a town-wide security protocol. Deputies will be conducting additional patrols in business districts. We've also established a direct emergency line for faster response." I pause, making eye contact with concerned faces. "And I've reached out to a specialist who successfully tracked similar criminals previously. They'll be coming to assist."

This last part—bringing in Law and his team officially—wasn't planned, but the words come out before I can reconsider. We need help, and Law's team, despite their unorthodox methods, are the best.

"Who is this specialist?" Councilwoman Davis asks.

"A private security consultant with unprecedented expertise in organized criminal enterprises." Not exactly a lie, but not the whole truth about Law. "Our teams worked together to bring down the trafficking ring." Everyone went quiet after my statement. "Let's not forget about that."

The remainder of the meeting is a blur of questions, accusations, and frightened speculation. By the time it ends two hours later, my head is pounding and my patience threadbare.

As the crowd disperses, I notice Ruth lingering near the exit. Our eyes meet again, and this time she doesn't look away. I make my way toward her, weaving through departing residents.

"Thank you," I say when I reach her. "For speaking up."

"I didn't do it for you." Her voice is cool, professional. "I did it because it's true. You're doing everything you can."

"Ruth, I—"

"Don't." She holds up a hand. "I understand your priorities are elsewhere right now. Mine are too. I'm trying to find a security system that actually works, since apparently the pharmacies didn't help them much."

The distance in her tone hurts more than I expected. I deserve it, of course, after what happened at her shop, but that doesn't lessen the sting.

"I can have Brooklyn stop by, make some recommendations." I maintain my professional facade despite wanting to apologize, to explain.

"Fine." She adjusts her purse strap. "Send whoever you want."

She turns to leave, but I catch her arm. "Roo," for a brief moment, her expression softens. Then the walls come back up and she pulls her arm away.

"Please, be careful, these people... they're dangerous."

"I'm careful, Sheriff." She pulls away. "I've been advised, twice."

The double meaning isn't lost on me as I watch her walk away, her copper hair swinging with each determined step. Once again, I've managed to make things worse.

Outside, the late afternoon sun offers no warmth. I climb into my pickup, turn the key, and sit in silence, the weight of the day settling over me like a shroud. Four businesses attacked. One young woman dead. An entire town living in fear. And the one person who's made me feel anything beyond duty and responsibility can barely look at me.

I slam my palm against the steering wheel, a rare display of the frustration bubbling beneath my carefully maintained control. Something has to give, and soon, before these criminals strike again.

As I pull away from the town hall, my radio crackles to life.

"Charlie Charlie dispatch to Charlie Charlie one Alpha."

"Go ahead, dispatch."

"Are you clear of the meeting, one Alpha?"

"Ten-four."

"You're to return Law Summers' call immediately."

Law. Just the man I needed to talk to, maybe he'll have better news than I've had all day.

"Copy that. En route."

I press the accelerator, heading back to the station while mentally preparing for what comes next. If Michael is involved, as my gut increasingly suspects, bringing Law to town might be exactly what he wants.

The other side of my head speaks up, perhaps Law is excited to inform me that they've caught Michael.

Because if Michael is behind this, and if he's watching me, then he's already seen more than I wanted him to. And in Michael's world, connection means vulnerability. Caring means weakness. And weakness is something he exploits without mercy. So, I'll cling to the idea that Law caught that son of a bitch.