Page 63 of The Woman Who Couldn't Scream
And he hadn’t yet gotten what he wanted from her. Not this time.
She was safe with him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Bergen slapped the flat of his hand on Kateri’s office door. “When are you going home?”
Lacey lifted her head from the chair where she snoozed.
Both dog and sheriff glared at him blearily. Kateri said, “When the paperwork’s done.”
He snorted. “Then you’re never going home.”
“I know.” She tucked strands of hair back into her braid. “I’ve got to hire a replacement for Mona.”
“Mona’s unemployed. You could always hire her again.”
“Are younuts?”
He laughed. “Yeah… the only thing she ever did well was mess around with Councilman Venegra. Because, you know, sequined knee pads.” Bergen came around the desk, handed her her walking stick and lifted her to her feet. “You’ve been working for sixteen hours straight. You’re in pain. You’re irritable. We’re in crisis mode. We need our sheriff to be alert.”
She hated that he was right.
She hated that Lacey leaped down and frisked around.
Kateri needed about ten hours of sleep before she could frisk. Yanking her arm free, she leaned heavily on her stick and marched into the patrol room. “What about you? You’ve been on duty longer than I have.”
“I did a face-plant in the break room for three hours this afternoon.”
She started to laugh. “You fit on that puny love seat?”
“I didn’t say I fit on it. I said I slept on it.” He pushed her toward the outside door. “Go get some food and some sleep. For Lacey’s sake.”
All the irritation oozed out of her. “Yes. I think I’d better.” With Lacey at her heels, she headed for the door and met Moen walking in.
He looked better, less haunted, recovered as only a young man with a clean conscience could be. He asked, “Need a ride, Sheriff?”
“No, thanks, Moen. I think we’ll walk home, work out the kinks.”
“Okay. G’night, Sheriff.” He headed inside.
She opened the door. She stepped outside.
From somewhere, she heard a deep, muffled boom!
Lacey barked once, sharply.
On the northern outskirts of town, a dark plume of smoke rose.
She stepped back inside. “Moen,” she called. “Now I need a ride.”
***
The scene was carnage; one small house exploded, houses on either side burning, three fire engines parked at the curb while their men battled the flames, and two of Virtue Falls’ policemen stood over the prostrate form of a tall, skinny, sobbing man.
She recognized him. Kevin Wilson, official loser.
“Moen, you come with me. Lacey, you stay here.” When Lacey whined pitifully, Kateri said, “We don’t want the firefighters running over you and we definitely don’t want you on the ground if there is, God forbid, another explosion.”
