Kandace turned, and she ran, her hands held forward, reaching for that promise of salvation.CHAPTER FORTY-FIVECamden entered the sheriff’s department, saying a quick hello to Shara who worked at the front desk. “Is the sheriff here?” he asked.
“Yup. He’s in his office.”
With a short nod, Camden walked past the desk and headed toward the back. The body of Kandace Thompson had been autopsied that morning and apparently the sheriff had just received the results. He’d called Camden in to discuss them.
Camden felt tense, edgy. The discovery of Kandace’s body could be the very thing they’d been waiting for, the investigation that might very well expose the crimes being committed in this town for far, far too long. Her body had been transported to a lab in Los Angeles where her mother and stepfather lived, far away from Farrow and the corrupt hands that might intervene to hide evidence.
He heard the sheriff on the phone inside his office so instead of knocking, turned the knob quietly, creating a small gap from which to peek in and catch the sheriff’s eye at his desk, wait for a nod to enter, or a signal to wait outside. But when Camden looked through the small opening, the desk was empty. He opened the door wider to see the sheriff standing with his back to the door, the phone held on his shoulder, a gun in one hand and a metal file in the other as he filed away what Camden assumed was the serial number. He froze. “It doesn’t exist, Gene,” the sheriff said. “Not anymore.” Gene. Gene Miller? The guild member who ran the Farrow insurance company? The sheriff held the gun up, inspecting the spot he’d just filed, placed it into a box and then set the box inside the file cabinet he was facing. “Nope. Gonna bury it. Relax, Gene.” He listened for another minute, answered whatever question Gene asked in the affirmative, saying a quick goodbye, and then beginning to turn. Camden pulled the door quickly, and then began pushing it open just as the sheriff turned around.
He smiled, disconnecting the call. “Camden, come in.”
Camden entered slowly, his heart racing. The sheriff rounded his desk, taking a seat and indicating Camden should sit down too.
“How are you, Camden? How are Georgia and Mason?”
He stilled, sensing something beneath his words. “They’re fine, I guess.”
The sheriff smiled broadly. “That’s good to hear.” He paused for a moment. “By the way, I noticed how you went out of your way to comfort the Lattimore woman the other day after her kid found the body—damn thing that was, by the way. I still don’t understand what a little thing like that was doing scaling the side of a canyon. But in any case, you be careful how much time you spend with her, you hear? I asked you to keep tabs on her activities, not what’s under her skirt. I wouldn’t want you getting caught up with someone unacceptable unless unacceptable is what she’s looking for.” He chuckled softly. “Type of woman like that, little kid depending on her, she’s gonna try to trap you if you let her.”
Camden’s hands fisted on his thighs. “Yes, sir. I’m aware of her type.”
The sheriff’s smile grew. “Course you are.” He turned his gaze to a folder on his desk. “I received the full autopsy results from the victim recovered two days ago, Kandace Thompson.” He paused for a moment. “I sure do wish you would’ve let us handle it first,” he said, his smile unmoving. “Instead of calling in outsiders. We would have preferred to complete the autopsy right here, in our Farrow lab. The guild won’t look favorably on your choices.”
Camden let out a breath. “There didn’t seem to be a way around it, sir, since Ms. Lattimore knew the victim and her mother. Strangest coincidence.”
“Strange indeed,” he said. “That’s what happens when those not vetted by the guild move to town. We should’ve stopped that. We’ll have to see what can be done about it now.”
Dammit. Camden’s gut churned, but he nodded. “Was there anything more found in the autopsy report, sir?”
The sheriff smiled, quietly watching him for a moment. “The gunshot wound to her torso caused her death.”
Yes, he’d figured that. He still felt sick. They’d shot her. They’d chased her through the forest and shot her like an animal.
Hey, Dreamboat. He saw her smile and a ribbon of sadness wound through him. She’d tried. She’d done her best to exact justice.
The sheriff sat back, lacing his hands over his flat stomach. “The girl obviously ran into some trouble. Whoever helped her run away must have shot her. We figure it was about drugs. The root of all evil. She had a history and all.” He eyed Camden. “Something similar happened before, if you didn’t know. Three girls ran away from Lilith House, back to their life of depravity and fornication. They were never seen again.”