Page 50 of Unnatural (Men and Monsters #2)

The sheriff’s office looked like any other small-town sheriff’s office and, Mark thought as he entered the building, smelled like one.

A somehow pleasant mixture of stale coffee and Xerox paper.

Or maybe it was just pleasant to Mark because he’d worked in buildings like this all his career. To him, they smelled like purpose .

“Agent Mark Gallagher here to see Sheriff Monroe,” he told the receptionist when he stepped up to the desk.

“Is he expecting you, Agent Gallagher?”

“No. But if you’ll let him know it’s official business about an important ongoing case, that would be appreciated.”

“Absolutely, sir.” The young girl picked up the phone and spoke on it as Mark wandered to the bulletin board hung near the door, perusing the myriad notices common to small towns: missing pets, community meetings, a kid named Timothy advertising his lawn mowing business.

“He asks that I send you back,” the receptionist said, and Mark turned back to her.

“His office is just around the corner, first door on the right.”

“Great. Thank you.” Mark followed the instructions, and when he turned the corner, the sheriff was already standing in his doorway.

He held out his hand as Mark approached. “Agent Gallagher? This is a surprise. We don’t usually deal much with the feds. Come on in. Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk.

Mark sat. “Thank you for seeing me without an appointment. A lead pointed me here this morning, and there wasn’t time to call.” Truthfully, there had been plenty of time to call, but Mark had wanted to see the sheriff’s reactions without any advanced preparation.

“It’s no problem. A lead you say? What can I help you with?”

“There was a school shooting in New York City about a month ago. I’m sure you heard about it.”

The sheriff linked his hands on the desk in front of him, expression grim. “Real tragedy. They always are.” The sheriff’s gaze was direct, but his body had gone still. He’d grown cautious suddenly. “What about that situation brings you here?”

“I have reason to believe Autumn Clancy witnessed the shooting.”

“Autumn?” He leaned back. “What makes you think so?”

“I can’t get into that, Sheriff. But being as she works with the department, I thought it might be helpful to talk to you about her.”

The sheriff looked away. “Autumn Clancy is one of the most decent, honest people I know, Agent Gallagher. Truth is I think of her as a daughter. Lots of folks in town do.” He paused.

“She was adopted by one of the locals when she was a teenager. She had a real rough beginning, and somehow, it didn’t stop her from showing genuine love to every single person she meets.

If Autumn was anywhere near that terrible crime, I can guarantee she was not involved, nor would she cover for anyone who was. ”

Mark watched the man for a moment. Nor would she cover for anyone who was.

He knew. He knew where Autumn was, and he knew where the white-haired man she’d helped leave the scene was too.

Mark would bet his bottom dollar on it. The sheriff obviously cared very deeply for Autumn Clancy, and he would also wager that if the man was going to share her current whereabouts with Mark, Mark was going to have to give him a good reason to, beyond professional threats.

“I have no reason to believe she was involved in the shooting, Sheriff. However, she’s with someone who might have knowledge of the shooter.”

The sheriff frowned. “The shooter? I thought he died by suicide.”

“He did. It’s complicated, but I have reason to believe the shooter was not identified properly.”

“I’m not following.”

Mark took in a deep breath. The last few days had been full of following up leads about who the identified suspect had been, who Autumn Clancy was, even talking to two different doctors and asking them how the white-haired man might have survived being shot so many times at such close range—questions that had only been met with confusion and halting guesses.

And now he needed to learn more about Autumn Clancy and her connection to the man who seemingly had some kind of superpower.

He’d needed a few minutes to size the sheriff up, to get a feel for him as a professional and as a personal acquaintance of Autumn Clancy.

Now that he had, he decided to trust him with at least some of the truth.

“I used to work for the Montana Department of Justice,” he said.

“But several years ago, I began working for a small undercover task force.”

“I see. What sort of task force?”

“Did you hear about the case of the foster care children who were being put in experimental training camps for various reasons?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Who didn’t? The news went on about that for months.

We received bulletins here, were asked to keep our eyes peeled for anything suspicious that might be related.

I believe there’s still the flyer with the tip line out on the bulletin board.

Of course, that thing needs a good organizing.

Anyway, one of those kids survived growing up in the woods, didn’t he? Out in Montana?”

Jak. “That’s right. However, Dr. Swift, the man who conceptualized and began this social experiment, hasn’t been brought to justice.

He remains wanted.” And Mark would spend the remainder of his days hunting that man who used and horrifically abused unwanted children for his own malignant purposes.

And, to Mark’s knowledge, continued to head the program to do so, though each one was an individual offshoot, which made Mark’s job especially challenging.

“Okay. But the program is no longer operational, correct?”

“On the contrary. We believe it’s grown.

We’ve even located a few of the program locations, though all the details haven’t been made public because we’ve tried to protect the privacy of the individuals we’ve rescued.

It’s a difficult journey for them. So far, none have managed to assimilate into society.

” That was the worst part. And he couldn’t help but feel at least some personal responsibility.

I didn’t find them soon enough. “Some of them are too damaged.”

“Too damaged,” the sheriff repeated, a troubled look coming into his eyes.

“Yes. They’ve been trained as assassins, killers, put through torturous programs that break them in ways most people can’t imagine. If we were able to rescue them in time, perhaps there would be a chance…but because we haven’t—”

“They’re a danger to society.”

“Yes. Exactly. Or they might be.” It killed Mark that the ones they’d located so far were so incredibly damaged—if that was even the right word—beyond repair.

Jak had survived— was now thriving, thank God —and Mark refused to give up the hope that others could too.

If there was just one thing or one someone that made them question the message.

Something or someone that had saved their mind.

Their soul. Like Jak with Harper’s mother’s teaching notes.

Maybe it would be an instructor or even a fellow program member whose kindness was greater than the things used to break them.

Even so, Mark knew that all of them would be broken in some way or another.

And that they all would require healing.

“If I may ask, why is this task force of yours such a secret? I work in law enforcement, and I thought that whole case had disappeared.”

“The task force operates independently because we’re all but certain there are plants within the three-letter agencies.

There’s no way an operation of the magnitude of Dr. Swift’s works without that aspect.

” No way bodies disappeared, convenient “holdups” happened consistently, and cases were closed without any investigation whatsoever, to only mention a short list of things Mark had seen.

“There’s money involved,” he told the sheriff.

“Big money. Governments and multimillionaires use the services of these men and women. A vast cover-up could be easily bought and paid for.”

The sheriff looked slightly shell-shocked as he took in a breath.

Mark understood. It was chilling and overwhelming, and he’d had plenty of time to accept the scope of it all.

“Wow.” The sheriff stared at the wall for a moment, obviously thinking. After a minute, he met Mark’s eyes. “What does this all have to do with Autumn Clancy potentially being at the school shooting in New York City?”

“I think she helped the man who acted as a Good Samaritan leave the scene of the crime. I think that man might know more about what happened that day. What really happened.”

“Is he one of the trained assassins, Agent?”

“He might be.”

The sheriff swore under his breath.

“I was told Ms. Clancy has taken a leave of absence from work to care for a sick relative,” Mark said. “And I’d wait for her to return, but I think the matter is more urgent than that.”

The sheriff swore again, this time more a hiss than a word. “She’s not caring for a sick relative.”

“I didn’t think so, Sheriff. Can you tell me where she is?”