Into the Fading Twilight (Starlight Grove, #2) (21)

I chuckled, leaning back in my chair. “Don’t look in my cup. It might tempt you.”

Her scowl only deepened. “Why’d I make Russ this stupid promise?”

“Because you love him, and he cares about you living a long, healthy life?” I supplied.

“Love and marriage. Stupid,” she grumbled.

I shook my head. “As soon as you wake up a little, you’ll remember all the reasons that isn’t true.”

Sherri’s expression softened a little. “We have made some pretty damn cute kids.”

“You have.”

She took a sip of her tea. “Catch me up to where you are.”

I nodded, slipping into official mode. “I’m still working through the list of possible victims. While we were able to narrow the scope to those within the five-county radius Travis could’ve potentially had case access to, we also have to expand the victim profile.”

Travis Moore, a sergeant in the Juniper County Sheriff’s Department, had gotten a kick out of inserting himself into every missing person’s case he’d perpetrated. But the problem was that he didn’t have an exact victim profile. While he’d certainly favored women in their twenties with dark hair, he’d also skewed outside that. He’d taken men, women with other hair colors, and a diverse range of races, ages, and backgrounds.

Sherri nodded slowly. “I want you to take Pete on to help you work through everything.”

It was my turn to scowl. “I work alone.”

“Yeah, yeah. You are loner, hear you roar,” Sherri muttered.

I’d worked my way up the ranks as a Forest Service investigator and had proven myself, case after case. “You think I can’t handle this?”

She shook her head instantly. “You know that’s not it. I’m getting pressure from higher up. They want this one put to bed.”

I got that. The media coverage of Travis’s crimes had spread far and wide, from local and national news to prime-time specials and podcasts. And I’d even heard there was a movie in production—everyone making the most out of others’ misery.

Sherri scrubbed a hand over her face. “Listen, I know Pete’s an asshole. Everyone in this office knows Pete’s an asshole. But he’s an asshole who does good work. And if I can deal with him being a misogynistic prick, you can deal with him being an asshole.”

Hell. She had a point. Pete was always dropping little comments that undermined Sherri, things that were just shy of getting him in trouble. But Sherri dealt. I could, too.

“You’re the senior officer,” she went on. “Utilize him for what he does best and don’t let him walk all over you.”

That was easier said than done because Pete did whatever the hell he wanted and walked over the rest of us to claim whatever credit he could.

“Sherri—” I began.

“How many possibles do you have?” she cut in.

My mouth thinned. “Thirteen.”

She shook her head. “You need to take care of yourself, Kol. I know you care about this one, but don’t let it drive you into an early grave.”

“I’m not,” I clipped, but I could feel the muscle along my jaw beginning to flutter.

Sherri studied me for a long moment. “Is this one getting too personal? I know Nova is close to your brother’s fiancée. I can do a full reassign if—”

“I know the rules.” Tension wove through my muscles, turning them to stone. That wasn’t a lie. I did know the rules. Just like I knew a victim of a case living above my garage could be considered a personal relationship that broke more than one of them.

Fuck.

But I couldn’t let Nova slowly drown while living in Brae and Dex’s cabin. Not when I had the ability to help. It went against every fiber of my being. Sometimes, breaking the rules was the risk.

And it was a risk. Sherri didn’t mess around with conflicts of interest. We’d had cases go sideways because of an investigator’s relationship with a victim, and she’d never forgotten it. She wouldn’t hesitate to discipline me. Or worse, fire me.

Sherri was quiet as she continued to watch me, taking stock of everything under my words. But if she saw through to my secrets, she didn’t say anything. “Fine. But you can’t investigate thirteen cases on your own. Divide and conquer. Give Pete a few to look into and start there.”

“Did I hear my name? Talking about how invaluable I am?” Pete cut in, moving in beside Sherri in my doorway.

That now-familiar scowl was back. I stared at the douchebag extraordinaire. In his late forties, I had no idea how Pete had ended up working for the Forest Service. While I hated logging time in our office, preferring the forest as my backdrop, Pete’s idea of camping was a luxury lodge with every amenity known to man, and his carefully coiffed hair showed it.

Sherri’s mouth thinned. “Pete, we’re going to add you as a second on the Travis Moore case. You’ll answer to Kol on this one and take your orders from him.”

A war of emotions played out over Pete’s expression. A flash of excitement in his brown eyes, followed quickly by more than a hint of annoyance. “I could always take half the cases and Kol the other. Then, we won’t get in each other’s way,” Pete suggested.

“This is Kol’s case,” Sherri said with finality. “You want on, you’re support to him.”