River of Bones by Dan Padavona (psychology books to read .TXT) 📗

back when Thomas entered the Broken Yolk. His deputy nursed a green and herbal tea blend, a new healthy menu option. The cafe owner, Ruth Sims, had implemented Naomi Mourning’s ideas for rebuilding her customer base. It appeared to be working. Last month, Ruth was prepared to close the cafe and cut her losses. This morning, half the tables were taken. Loyal customers from the cafe’s early days mingled with a college-age crowd. A student typed on a laptop, her computer connected to the internet through the Broken Yolk’s new Wi-Fi system.

“Hey, Deputy Dog,” LeVar called from behind the counter. Raven’s brother had worked for Ruth Sims since late spring. “I’ve got a fresh glazed donut with your name written on it.”

“I’ll take a coffee too.”

“One step ahead of you. Wait, I can’t call you Deputy Dog now that you’re sheriff.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something, LeVar.”

LeVar tapped a finger against his head.

“Trust me, I will.”

Thomas carried the donut and coffee to Aguilar’s table and took the chair across from hers. She cocked a disappointed eyebrow at his breakfast. Aguilar’s mission was to convince Thomas to make better food choices. She wiped the disappointment from her face and smiled.

“Good morning, Sheriff.”

“How are you, Aguilar?”

“Why did you want to meet here?”

Thomas scooted the chair forward and set his elbows on the table.

“We don’t talk anymore.”

“Well, we’ve been on opposite shifts the last month.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Thomas set his hat down. “Since I filled Sheriff Gray’s position, you’ve barely spoken a word to me.”

“I doubt that’s true.”

Thomas smiled.

“Aguilar, just because I’m interim sheriff doesn’t mean you can’t break my balls.”

“So you want me to make fun of you. That wouldn’t be appropriate.”

Thomas sat back and took a breath.

“Okay, let’s start over. We’ll talk about work. What did you find when you searched the missing persons database?”

“A half-dozen women, depending on how many counties we choose to include. I left the list on your desk.”

“Thank you. I’ll get on it this afternoon.” He drummed his fingers on the table as an uncomfortable silence fell between them. Aguilar kept glancing around the room. “So I’m still in therapy with Dr. Mandal.”

She sipped her tea.

“How is that going?”

“Better. Since the Thea Barlow shooting, I haven’t slept right.” Last month, Thomas shot Thea Barlow after the serial killer broke inside his parents’ house. Every time he closed his eyes at night, he pictured Barlow’s leering grin when she sat up in the bed. Had he not fired his weapon, the psychopath would have stabbed his father. “If Sheriff Gray was in charge, he would have kept me out of the field until Dr. Mandal cleared me. Now I need to self-police.”

“I’m sure you’ll make the right call.”

“I’ll appreciate it if you keep me in line. If you think I’m not myself, it’s important you tell me.”

“I will, but your doctor should make that determination.”

“She doesn’t see me in the field every day. You do.”

She gave an obedient nod. He wished she’d level him with a joke and throw him off his game.

“Anyhow,” Thomas said, continuing. “I might be out of the office more than I prefer over the next three months. My father’s cancer progressed, and he’s spiraled downward since the attempted murder.” When Aguilar didn’t respond, he rapped his knuckles on the table. “That’s where you come in. When I’m out of the office, you’re in charge.”

“Me? Why not Lambert?”

“He doesn’t want the responsibility. You could run the county, Aguilar. If you entered the sheriff’s race, I’d drop out and vote for you.”

Her cheeks reddened.

“I’m not much of a leader.”

“You are in my book.”

Aguilar squirmed in her seat.

“I enjoy being a deputy. What’s the latest on the unknown skeleton?”

“Dr. Stone was busy reconstructing the remains at the medical examiner’s office. I expect we’ll hear from her soon.”

Thomas ran a hand through his hair.

“Something is worrying you,” said Aguilar, setting her tea aside.

“I’m afraid we found that missing teenage girl.”

“Skye Feron.”

“All these years, Skye’s parents hoped to find her alive. I can’t imagine how much it will crush them, if we determine the bones belong to Skye.”

“What makes you think it’s her?”

“Except for the doctor’s preliminary determination that it’s a female skull, not much. Just a sick feeling.”

“You know,” Aguilar said, nodding at Thomas. “Sheriff Gray investigated Skye’s disappearance.”

“I studied his case notes.”

“The case predates my arrival. But after working alongside Sheriff Gray, I can tell you he doesn’t put all his thoughts into his case notes.”

“What do you mean?”

“If Gray found a piece of evidence suspicious, he might not include it in his notes unless he had a sound reason to question the evidence.”

“So I should talk to Sheriff Gray.”

“That’s my recommendation.”

Thomas’s phone hummed inside his pocket. His eyebrows lifted as he read the message.

“Virgil sent me a text. Dr. Stone reconstructed the skull. It’s time to find out if Jane Doe is Skye Feron.”

CHAPTER SIX

Tuesday, August 10th

10:00 a.m.

 

Sitting at her desk inside Wolf Lake Consulting, Raven tapped a pen against her palm and read over her notes. Yesterday, she’d interviewed a dozen campers about the stolen money. One woman reported a suspicious man pawing around the campgrounds. The suspect turned out to be a maintenance worker fixing a plumbing issue in cabin four. A nine-year-old boy with a face covered with chocolate swore he saw a black man in the forest. Given the boy’s father flew a confederate flag on his muscle car, Raven had reason to doubt the child. Still, she noted the sighting. After the interviews, she photographed footprints trailing around the cabins. The prints could have belonged to anyone, and Raven didn’t understand how she’d catch the thief. The man was probably long gone by now.

Behind her, the floor groaned. She swung her head around. Her edginess made her feel foolish. What if the courts released Mark Benson and Damian Ramos over a technicality? Would the two men come after Raven?

Scrubbing a hand down her face, she glared at the empty desk beside her. Chelsey should have