Page 3 of Sinister Secrets

“I saw him,” I say. “Now put your firearm away. He won’t hurt you.”

“Like I believe you. You can cozy up to all the predators you want on your own time, girlie.” The way he gestures back toward the house with his head implies that he’s including Jake in that statement, making the coal of anger inside me blaze into a roaring inferno. “But I’ve got a job to do. If you think I’m going to put myself at risk because—”

“He’s missing the top half of his jaw,” I interrupt, hands clenching into fists that I long to use. Nails biting painfully into the flesh of my palms because I know that I can’t.

It’s his son that’s the predator and I can’t even voice the fact because as the sheriff of my tiny hometown of Gator Glade, he holds all the power, and me? In just one short week my tenure with the FBI will be over and I’ll be at the mercy of his wrath without my badge to protect me. Something cold and knife-like sinks deep into my gut at the thought.

I draw a shaky breath. Try to release some of the dread brewing inside my chest as I exhale. Force myself to not betray what I’m feeling, to not lose my cool or allow the past to cause me to react in a way that will give credence to any of his claims about me as I explain. “That’s why he’s here. He can’t bite. He has no way to catch his own food.”

The sheriff squints into the darkness. “I remember a story about that in the papers years ago. All you bleeding-heart types were up in arms about it.” He gives me a suspicious look. “You’re telling me that thing is still alive?”

“I am.”

I shoot a pointed look at his gun, the barrel still aimed at my chest. He grunts as he reholsters the weapon. I give a nod, then turn, continuing forward.

“I suppose even a fella that size wouldn’t be able to swallow a four-year-old whole, would he?” he asks, falling into step behind me.

I don’t answer. I can’t. My voice is gone, choked by the lump that filled my throat the instant I saw the body floating on the surface of the pond.

CHAPTER 3

Keeping my eyes glued to the body, I raise my arm out, almost clotheslining Sheriff Kingston as I prevent him from moving forward. He stumbles back a step. Grumbles something about me being crazy under his breath.

“What bee’s gotten in your bonnet now?”

“We need to take our time,” I say.

“I don’t think that little boy’s mother would agree.”

“You have your duty light on you?” I ask.

“Course I do.”

“Can I see it?”

“What for?”

“Lyle.” Something in my tone makes the man stop his bluster.

Though he lets out an irritated sigh the heft of a Maglite meets my palm. I curl my fingers around the cool metal and turn it on. Swing the beam toward the pond, illuminating the pale starfish shape floating on its surface.

Sheriff Kingston curses so loud that the chorus of frogs around us falls silent. “I thought you said that gator was harmless.”

“He is,” I say, pulling the camera app up on my phone, preparing to video my way into the scene.

“Then how do you explain that?”

“I can’t yet, but I know Chomp wasn’t involved.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because if Chomp’s learned how to take someone’s clothes off, we have bigger problems than him being able to bite.”

“Oh.”

Though the embarrassment in his tone would normally give me a small thrill of victory, nothing about this is a win. My backyard is now a crime scene. And a little boy is still missing.

Shifting the light to the ground before us, I swing it in a wide arc before taking a step forward.