Reckoning by Baron Birtcher

Author:Baron Birtcher
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2023-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I SLEPT THROUGH the night but awakened without rest. I dressed and took my coffee to the ranch office and looked over the paperwork that Caleb had left out for my review. By the time I finished reading, silver light had begun to appear outside the pebbled jalousies, and I carried my empty mug back to the house, lingered for a moment on the gallery.

The sunrise was little more than a narrow line, and rain descended from the clouds like campaign streamers affixed to a battle standard.

“I didn’t hear you get out of bed,” Jesse said.

She was seated at the breakfast table wearing a bathrobe that resembled a Navajo blanket, caressing a steaming teacup in both hands, and examining the newspaper she had spread across the tabletop. I gently moved her hair to one side and kissed the back of her neck. Her skin was warm and smelled of cinnamon and slumber.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” I said. “Is Cricket up?”

Jesse pulled her attention away from the paper and looked at me with an expression of concern.

“Cricket went back to school, Ty. She left two days ago.”

I felt as though I were falling backwards from a great height.

“I wanted to see her off,” I said, though I wasn’t certain I had uttered the words aloud. “Who took her to the train?”

Jesse stood up from the table, and I heard her teacup rattle in the sink. When I turned to look at her, the planes and hollows of her cheekbones were illuminated with pale shades of morning sun.

“Looks like it might be a pretty day,” she said.

“They often start out looking that way, don’t they?”

Jesse ignored my remark and went outside to feed the chickens.

SAM GRIFFIN was replacing the ribbon on the typewriter as I stepped into the substation.

“Morning, Sheriff,” Griffin said, and returned to his work.

I picked up my phone and dialed Captain Rose at state police CID. His secretary put me straight through.

“That’s some kind of crap sandwich they’ve got brewing down south,” he said without preamble.

“I might need some support on my side of the county line, Chris.”

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“Brayfield put out a request for assistance—”

“Must’ve bypassed us,” he said.

“He said he was going to call you, but our friends at Portland Police advised him to process his request through the FBI.”

I could hear Rose breathing, but that was all I heard for several seconds.

“Who the hell told Brayfield to do that?” he asked finally.

“Deputy Chief Overton.”

“Christ on a bike.”

“So, you appreciate the magnitude of my potential problem,” I said.

Captain Rose began to pace behind his desk, and I heard the scrape of his footfalls on the chair mat. I waited for him while I watched Sam Griffin cross over to the shelf unit on our substation wall when the radio scanner crackled to life. Griffin thumbed the mic and answered the call as I pressed a finger to my ear to filter the background static.

Rose’s voice came back on the line.

“I’m going to have to get back to you, Ty,” he said.

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