blessing in this whole fucked-up mess. With the church burned to the ground and potential witnesses in the pastor and his wife deceased, we would be starting with a blank canvas, and anything was possible.
I’d almost gotten to the point where I could leave my car, and I rolled my neck, nodded to myself, and had my hand on the handle to get out.
Something slammed on the roof, and I jumped so high I wrenched my back.
What the fuck?
I glanced left and saw the flash of color and uniform and pressed the button for the window, realizing belatedly that with the engine off, this car was nothing but a useless brick. So instead, I gestured that I would open the door, and I stepped out, making each movement evident so as not to alarm her into thinking I was reaching for a weapon.
“I’m sorry, sir, but you need to move your car.” The cop was a slim woman, steely hair in a tight bun, and she held herself with complete confidence, her hand on the butt of her weapon. I hadn’t seen any signs prohibiting parking, but maybe this space was traditionally only used by guests.
“It’s okay, Officer,” I said with a smile. “I’m staying at the hotel.”
“Sir, please, you have to move the car.”
I didn’t have to be a trained agent to hear the slight shift in her tone or the way she glanced behind her, and it gave me pause. I looked that way, and a crowd was gathering.
“Is everything okay, Officer?"
“I won’t ask again.”
I checked but could see nothing. “What’s happened?”
I could see her indecision, along with a flare of irritation.
“There will be a press conference for media at a time to be instructed, sir.” She added that last honorific with a touch of exhaustion in her tone.
“Media? I’m not a journalist. I'm a federal agent,” I said. “Let me show you my ID.”
She stiffened when I slowly reached into my pocket, her fingers twitching on her holster. I pulled out my ID, holding it up so she could see it, and her eyes widened fractionally.
“Special Agent Lucas Beaumont. Okay, we were expecting this. I’m Officer Heather Beiler,” she said. “However, Agent Beaumont, I’m still going to need you to move back one block for now.” She gestured to the opposite side of the road. “And then…” She gave a sigh and shook her head. “I guess there’s something you need to see.”
I moved the rental to where she’d indicated and straightened my jacket and tie as I locked the door. The heat was oppressive, my white shirt already damp with sweat, but I wasn’t ready to take off my armor against the world just yet. I was going to be efficient, calm, and in charge of whatever the hell had spooked Officer Beiler. I fell into step next to her as we rounded a corner, skirting a park with an empty fountain, then headed toward the group huddled together and talking in low voices. A tape barrier fluttered beyond them, and Officer Beiler lifted it so I could go under. Inside the hallowed circle was a smaller group. One of them broke away to stop me as I approached.
“Special Agent Lucas Beaumont, out of the Washington Field Office." I held out my hand, which he shook firmly.
It seemed as if he wanted to stare anywhere but at me. I understood that. I wasn’t there to take over or make his life hell, but I knew the feds had a reputation, not helped by popular media, of getting up in people’s faces and causing stress.
“Captain Sawyer Wiseman, Lancaster Falls PD,” he replied.
“Captain,” I swallowed my nerves, pulling out my best interested-in-everything FBI persona and hoping the nerves stayed hidden. “Want to bring me up to speed?”
“In what context?” he asked.
We made it a rule not to take control of a crime scene if it had already begun, and right now, whatever this was, some fight or something, didn't require our involvement. I was there for the cold case, the remains in the sinkhole. “I'm just here for consultation and assistance, not to take over, so catch me up on what we have here.” Two other men, one in uniform, one not, formed a protective formation behind Sawyer, blocking my view of whatever the issue was.
Sawyer frowned. “That's not my worry. If the feds leading this means we find a solution, then I’m good with that. I'm not precious, and this is my town to protect. I just