“You shouldn’t have come here, Leighton. You’re too close to this.”

“Then why’d you call me?”

“I just thought you should know, that’s all.”

“I won’t get in the way, I promise.”

Clark threw his stern ‘Chief’ look at me then relaxed his gaze.

“Make sure you don’t,” he said, then moved off to speak to his sergeant.

I slowly walked towards the small group of officers as they huddled around the body like smartly dressed carrion crows, then turned away. Chief Clark was right, I was too close. This thing was wrenching at my gut and sending familiar spasms of fury up my spine, and there was nothing I could do. Nothing. I clenched my fists so tight they threatened to implode.

“I’m sorry, Leighton.”

I was wound up so tight I nearly slammed one of those fists into Jamie’s face but managed to restrain myself. Jamie’s one of the good guys, I thought. One of the best.

I turned to him. “Anything?” I pleaded.

Jamie looked down at the sun-baked ground. “There’s nothing at all to place him at the scene,” he said. “Maybe the autopsy will show us something new, but Suze doesn’t think so.”

He surveyed the huddle of llamas in the far end of paddock without really seeing them. “He’s just too good, he doesn’t screw up. Maybe one day he will, but not today.”

I shrugged lamely. “It’s the day after Christa’s funeral, Jamie. He winked at me. Turned around, saw me, and winked. If it wasn’t for my badge, Jamie...”

“I know, Leighton.”

“And I saw him already wearing the family ring Christa’s mother gave her. He’s wanted this for a long time!”

“I know. We all know.”

I blinked in the bright morning sun. Paul, one of the farmhands, was over by the llamas, trying to herd them away from the crime scene and into the next paddock. One of them was a bit frisky and disobedient. I blinked and looked again. It was limping. I don’t know why but I grabbed Jamie.

“Jamie, get over there and check that animal. Now.”

He looked at me curiously but knew not to question, and ran over.

I kept my promise and stayed out of it. The waiting was murder. Please, I prayed. For Christa. For what could have been.

Jamie bounded over to me, waving something.

“We got it! Leighton, we got it! It was stuck in its hoof!”

He held out an evidence bag. There, glinting in the morning sun, was Christa’s ring.

Image courtesy of Creative Commons