Hills PD reminded Kate of what a police department from an ’80s TV show might look like. And not one of those shows that took place in New York or LA. No, this place was just a step or two above Mayberry, something that might be featured in a Hallmark movie where the so-called detective was also a great cook or a children’s book author. There was a central entry area that she supposed was the lobby. Beyond that, there were three desks, only one of which was occupied. Behind those desks was a thin hallway and nothing more.
The desk that was occupied was filled by an overweight gentleman with what Kate thought might be considered a mullet, adding to the ’80s vibe. He nodded at them and got up from his seat quickly. The name tag on his left breast read Smith.
“You must be the agents,” Smith said, hurrying to the lobby to greet them.
Kate took a step back, letting DeMarco know that she had the floor.
“That’s us,” DeMarco said. “Agents DeMarco and Wise. We were told we were to meet with Sheriff Gates.”
“Yeah, that’s right. He’s back in his office.” Smith waved them on to follow him. They did so, tailing him into the hall where he stopped at the first doorway on the right. “Sheriff?” he asked, knocking on the frame of the opened door. “The FBI agents are here.”
“Come on in!” came the response.
DeMarco led the way, Kate following behind. The sheriff got to his feet and extended his hand to greet them. Kate bit back a grin at the idea that she had seen the police department as a few steps above the station from Mayberry in The Andy Griffith Show. Sheriff Gates actually looked like a younger, modernized version of Sheriff Andy from the titular show. He shook their hands and looked them in the eye in a way that told her he was perfectly fine working with women, but that he was also likely going to be treating them with some good old southern hospitality.
“Sheriff,” Kate said, “I figured the station would be jumping, given the nature of this case.”
“Well, it was a while ago. The State PD came in and I had two of my men go out with them. They’re canvassing some of the back roads; there’s a lot of them around here, you know. I stayed behind because I wanted to meet with you.”
“We appreciate that,” DeMarco said. “What exactly can you tell us about the case? We’ve been briefed in DC, of course, but I’d prefer to hear it straight from the source.”
“Well, there’s been two murders in a town that has only boasted a single homicide in the last ten years. Both have been young women—ages nineteen and twenty. The first victim was killed five nights ago, in a bowling alley parking lot. The other was found yesterday morning on the front porch of her mother’s house. There’s no clear link between the girls other than their age and that they were both locals. The latest victim, Kayla Peterson, was home from college for a few days.”
“An in-state college?” DeMarco asked.
“No, somewhere down in Florida.”
“Any links at all in the families of the women?” Kate asked.
“The only thing similar between them is that they both came from families of divorce. But we’ve spoken to all of the immediate family and everything seems to check out in terms of alibis. You, of course, are welcome to retread where we’ve already stepped.”
“Thank you,” DeMarco said. “Do you mind taking us out to the location where the second victim was found?”
“Yeah, absolutely.”
Gates slipped on a jacket and exited the office ahead of them. Kate noticed how DeMarco seemed to carry herself differently now. It was a very slight difference, and not anything Kate could actually name, but it was there. She was more confident, more self-assured. It was present in the way she had interacted with the sheriff, even in that brief amount of time. It was also in the way she followed him but also led Kate.
She’s still so young, Kate thought. She’s going to end up being an exceptional agent.
It warmed her heart and made her incredibly glad to be back by DeMarco’s side. More than anything though, it made her happy to be on this case, even though she was now quite sure it would be one of her last.
***
On the way to the latest murder scene, they passed through most of Harper Hills. There were four stoplights