The next morning, I get a call from Val. Me, not Diana. We’re in, and they need to meet us to discuss the next steps. By “they,” I mean Valerie and the sheriff. I don’t realize that until we show up in a local park at noon and he’s there. He doesn’t say a word, just points at me and then at a trail into the forest.
“Is it just me,” Diana whispers as he walks away, “or is he seriously creepy?”
He turns and fixes Diana with a look, and she gives a little squeak.
I tell her to go with Valerie, and I jog after the sheriff. Even when I catch up, he doesn’t acknowledge I’m there.
“Thank you,” I say, because I mean it. I really do.
Only once we’re past the forest’s edge does he slow. His shoulders unknot just a little, and he says, “You’re a goddamn train wreck, Detective Duncan.”
I stutter-step to a halt. “Excuse me?”
“That’s why I don’t want you in my town. Not because of what you did. I ask for a detective, and they give me one who’s hell-bent on her own destruction. I don’t need that shit. I really don’t.”
I should be outraged. This asshole presumes to know me after a background check and a twenty-minute chat?
Except I’m not outraged. I feel like I’ve found something here. Something I didn’t get in all those damned therapy sessions, pouring my guts on the floor for the professionals to pick through, like augurs. Ah, here’s your problem, Casey Duncan.
“Runaway train,” I say.
“What?”
“A train wreck implies I’ve already crashed. If I’m hell-bent on my own destruction, I’m still heading for that crash. Which is probably worse, because the crash is still coming.”
His eyes narrow as if I’m mocking him. I push my shades onto my head so he can see I’m not. He only snorts, his all-purpose response.
“Are you warning me off in case I try to renege on the deal? I won’t. I made it; I’ll stick to it, and I genuinely thank you for anything you did to get Diana in.”
“Six months.”
He resumes walking. Before I can speak, he leaves the path and heads into the forest. It doesn’t seem to be a conscious change of direction. He just walks that way as if the path veered.
“She can only stay six months?” I say. “Okay, that’s—”
“You. They insist on it. If you don’t show up, they’ll kick her out.”
“Who’s they? The selection committee?”
“Council.”
I nod. “The town council. Mayor and so forth. Guess you can’t escape politicians even in a town like that.”
I give him a wry half smile, but he doesn’t notice, just mutters under his breath. Then he stops short as the shade of the forest creeps over us, and he stares as if the trees have risen in our path.
An abrupt turn and he heads back to the path. “The council will say it’s a two-year stay, but you get six months. That’s between us. I’ll work out an exit strategy.”
When I go silent, he says, “And this is one reason I don’t want you there. I’m offering you escape, and you don’t give a shit.”
“No, I—”
“You don’t think you deserve escape. You killed a man, and you should pay the price.”
I tell myself there’s nobility in that, honor and justice. But in his voice, all I hear is disgust, like I’m a penitent flagellating herself.
“I’ll go,” I say and as I do, I realize I’m not all that upset at the prospect. There’s a case up there. An experience up there. A new and unique experience. I’m chomping at the bit to ask for more—is it a string of robberies, assaults, a murder?—but I know it’s not the time. Not just yet.
I continue, “You might not want me there, Sheriff, but you won’t regret it. There’s one thing I’m good at, and that’s my job. I might be able to help with your problems.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve seen your record, Detective. Fucking impressive. But that’s here. And where we’re going? It’s not here.”