Edge of the Woods (Emily Slate FBI Mystery Thriller Book 12) by Alex Sigmore

Author:Alex Sigmore [Sigmore, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781957536385
Publisher: Dark Woods Press
Published: 2023-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

After a hearty meal we’re back on the road to Strasburg, though by the time we reach the town it’s already getting dark. And it’s a Saturday night. I’m not hopeful, but I don’t want to put this off any longer than necessary, so I drive us up to the sheriff’s station, which only has two other cars in the lot.

“Yeah, it was a strange one,” the deputy, who is named Orellio, says as she meets us at the door. “Happened a few months back. Hunting accident.” She leads us down a set of stairs that head into a back section of the office where the records are kept. “At least, that’s what we thought until we got the call from Davis. Said you folks were looking into any deaths that might have been deemed suspicious but hadn’t otherwise been investigated.”

“Did you deem it suspicious?” I ask as Orellio heads down a row of files and pulls one from the top.

“Not really. Accidents happen, especially out here. We’ve got a big hunting community. Figured someone would fess up to it eventually. Then, o’course, you get busy with other cases, it starts to slip your mind.”

“All of which might have been on purpose,” I tell her, taking the file and looking through it. “Victim was out turkey hunting?”

“Yep. Bill Crease. Big turkey hunter round here. He even used to run a class for the young’uns. Teach ‘em how to hold a rifle. How to shoot. You know, simple stuff.”

I exchange a glance with Liam, thinking back to the fourteen-year-old who killed that farmer. Flipping through the file I see a lot of similarities with Josh Newsome. “It says here he wasn’t found for three days?”

“Well, it was the holiday season, and best our examiner could tell he was shot on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. Bill didn’t have a wife and his kids are off living in other parts of the country so no one came lookin’ for him until he didn’t show up to church on Sunday.”

“Where’s the ballistics report?” I ask, anxious to get a look at the bullet.

“Didn’t do one,” Orellio says. “Sheriff didn’t see any point in it. Said someone would come forward eventually.”

“Damn,” I say, closing the file. “Then we’re going to need to exhume him.”

Orellio checks her watch. “At seven o’clock on a Saturday? Agent, this isn’t New York. We don’t have those kinds of resources here.”

“How long?” I ask.

“Best we can do is Monday mornin’, I’m afraid.”

I hand the file back to her. “Schedule it. We’ll be back.”

Orellio lets out a long breath. “All right,” she says, hesitant.

“What’s the problem? I thought you said he didn’t have any family close by.”

“He doesn’t, but…know what? Never mind. We’ll take care of it. FBI needs to look at the body, I ain’t gonna argue.”

“I’ll get a warrant if I have to,” I tell her. “But I’d rather not.”

She grumbles. “That won’t be necessary. We’ll get it done. Monday morning.”

I give her a sweet smile in return. “Thank you.

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