“It’s been two fucking weeks, Val. Do you know how often we catch killers faster than that? Only when they’re standing beside the damned body, sobbing a confession. That’s pretty much the only sort of murders we get. This is different. Let us do our job—”

“The council is not pleased.”

“Fucking shock of the century. Tell them I don’t give a shit. Those exact words, please.” Footsteps as he heads for the door.

Val calls after him. “One building destroyed. Another damaged. Our entire stockpile of wood gone. Half our supply of water depleted.”

“Yeah, it’s called a fire. Which is why I’ve been telling the council for years that we need to be better prepared for one. If Casey and I hadn’t been there in time, we could have lost half the fucking town. I’ll pass on the council’s thanks.”

More footfalls. He is heading to the rear door. I back up past the corner.

“Murder, drugs, fire—this town is a mess, Eric. If you can’t do the job—”

“The council will boot my ass out the front gate. Heard it. Not concerned. I’m the best damned sheriff you’ve had since this place opened. And yeah, that includes my father. Otherwise, the council would have hauled him back to deal with these murders. Good night, Valerie.”

He saunters out the back, his head high. The door slaps shut behind him, and he thumps down the porch steps. In a few long strides, he’s beside the house. Then he stops, out of sight, and that steel melts from his spine and there’s a moment there, of turmoil and fear, so unguarded and raw that my gut twists in shame for watching. I’m backing away when he notices the movement.

“I’m sorry,” I say as I walk to him. “I heard voices and—”

“It’s fine.”

He starts walking and motions for me to keep up. At the road, he pauses to look at the still-smouldering lumber shed, at the smoke creeping over the town, at people with scorched jackets and soot-streaked faces on porches catching their breath, no one talking, everyone realizing how bad it could have been. He falters, that unguarded look returning for a moment before he blinks it back. Down the road, someone sees him and steps off a porch to wait. Someone else follows.

“Fuck,” he says.

“I’m sure they just have questions, but you don’t need to deal with that right now.”

He exhales again, that slow stream of exhaustion. “Nah, I should …” He trails off, as if he can’t even summon the energy to finish his sentence.

“We need to check the forest,” I say.

“Hmm?” He looks over, eyes unfocused.

“We should check the forest, in case sparks spread to fire there.”

“It couldn’t have …” He catches my look and nods. “Right. Yeah. Should make sure.”

“You head on in. I’ll run over and tell them you’ll make a statement later.”

It’s dawn now, which would make a lovely sunrise as we head east … if we weren’t surrounded by towering evergreens. As it is, it’s a peaceful walk, the early morning light seeping through. I think we’re wandering aimlessly. Of course, we aren’t. Dalton leads me to a fallen tree, one so big I need to jump up to perch on top of it.

I unhook the backpack I brought and take out two beers, wrapped in a towel.

“I snagged these from the station,” I say. “We haven’t slept, so technically it’s not morning yet.”

He takes one with a grunted thanks. We drink, staring out at the forest.

“Do you know Val was attacked out here?” I say. “Shortly after she arrived?”

“What?”

“She got separated—”

“Yeah, I remember. I wasn’t part of the patrol party, but I helped search. She wandered off, got lost, and showed up in the morning.”

“After being attacked by two men. Hostiles, I suspect, given her description. She said they threatened to teach her a lesson about trespassing and then fell asleep, letting her escape.”

He looks over, frowning.

“They didn’t fall asleep after threatening her. Not right away, at least.”

He exhales. “Fuck.”

“Yes, but she denies it, and we need to let her keep that delusion for now. But it explains why she hates this place and why she stays in the house. And partially why she doesn’t trust you. You’re connected to this forest. To the place that hurt her. To the men who hurt her. It isn’t logical, but I get the impression that Val likes her compartments. Everyone fits neatly into one.”

“Yeah.” He stretches his legs. “I’ve always known she doesn’t like me much. It’s worse than that, isn’t it?”

“Val’s a bitch,” I say. “What happened to her is horrible, but it doesn’t make her less of a bitch.”

“Nah. She doesn’t have the spine to be a bitch. I wish she did, because that would be something I could fight. This?” He shakes his head. “Makes me feel like a dog barking at a dishcloth snapping in the wind. It might annoy the hell out of me, but barking at it doesn’t do any good.”

A few minutes of silence, and then I say, “It’s bullshit, threatening to kick you out. They never would. They need you.”

He shrugs.

“Seriously,” I say. “No one would want to lose you.”

“Locals, you mean. They’re the ones who have to live here, and as much shit as I give them, they know this place needs hardcore law and order. But the council doesn’t have to live in Rockton.”