“Mama!” Ellie ran toward her, lifting her arms to be picked up. Ava hugged her.
“Hi, baby. Did you have fun last night?”
Ellie nodded. “Yep!”
Ava and Jeanie laughed. “I need to get going. I just want to relax today.”
“Can’t blame you there. We’ll see you later. Be careful.” Jeanie hugged her, then kissed Ella’s cheek. “Bye, Ellie.”
“Bye-bye.” Ellie waved with a smile, then Ava carried her down the steps, buckled her into her car seat, and drove home, wondering if she’d see Deacon tomorrow.
Chapter Nine
Deke exhaled heavily as he drove back toward Maple Ridge, the rhythmic hum of the tires a soothing backdrop to his thoughts. The Autumn Falls office had handed the men over to the Sheriff’s department for holding, which was his destination. He hoped Smith would open up, though he knew any deal-making was off the table.
As he pulled into the parking lot, he shut off the truck’s engine, the sudden silence enveloping him. Deke stepped out, the crunch of the gravel underfoot a familiar sound. He nodded to a few deputies exiting, exchanging brief, acknowledging glances, before striding toward the sheriff’s office. The building loomed ahead; its brick facade weathered by time.
Upon entering, the cool air was a welcome relief, and he approached the counter where a different receptionist greeted him with a warm smile, her eyes curious yet professional.
“Could I help you with something?” she inquired, her voice polite.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Agent Anderson with MDOL. I’d like to speak with Sheriff Jones,” he replied, his tone courteous but firm.
“Is he expecting you?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.
Deke grinned. “Probably, but he didn’t know what time I’d be arriving.”
“Let me call him,” she offered, reaching for the phone.
Deke nodded and leaned against the counter, taking a moment to glance around the room,noting the well-worn chairs and the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air. He straightened up when he spotted the sheriff approaching, his stride determined, hand extended in greeting.
“Agent Anderson, good to see you again,” the sheriff said, his handshake firm and welcoming.
“You too,” Deke responded, returning the handshake with equal strength.
“Come with me. I’ll take you to the interrogation room, then we’ll get Smith for you.”
“Thank you,” Deke replied, appreciating the directness.
He followed the sheriff into a room dominated by a large metal table with two chairs on one side and one on the other, the surface cold and unyielding. A two-way mirror occupied the back walls, its reflective surface adding an air of mystery to the room.
“I’ll be right back with him,” the sheriff assured.
“Yes, sir.” Deke leaned back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest, his gaze drifting to the mirror as he settled in to wait, his mind already turning over the possibilities of the upcoming conversation.
The heavy door creaked open a few minutes later, and the sheriff strode in, Smith’s wrists rattling in cold steel handcuffs. He motioned toward a scratched metal chair by the narrow table, hooked Smith’s cuffs to the iron bar welded on top of it, then straightened and nodded.
Deke’s eyes shifted to Smith, who glared back, his jaw clenched so tight that Deke was surprised he didn’t crack his teeth.
“He’s all yours, Agent.” The sheriff walked out; the door thudding shut behind him.
Deke took a slow step forward, the harsh fluorescent light overhead casting sharp shadows across the interrogation room’s stained walls. Smith shifted in the chair, the vinyl seat squeaking under him. Deke pulled a chair out with a scrape, spun it around, straddled it, placed a small recorder on the table’s metal surface, then folded his arms over the top of the chair.
“Well?”
Smith exhaled, the air smelling faintly of sweat and regret. “Can I get a deal?”
Deke’s gaze never wavered. “Like what?”
