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“Makes sense,” I say. “Everyone had their throat slashed after that. It’s a cleaner kill.”
“A certain death,” Nikki says.
“We’ve got a serial killer hungry for bodies,” Hale says. “And he or she is mining them from Paradise. Who are we looking at?”
“Malcolm and Patty Lewis are the head honchos in charge,” I offer. “That puts them at the top of the suspect list.”
Fallon shakes her head as if refuting the idea. “Yes, but Scarlett pointed out that there was another person, a supreme leader. She referenced him as a man, said he wears a red hood, and that no one knows who he is. She said he was a real lunatic.”
“Supreme leader.” Hale nods at the three of us as if we’ve got our answer. “He’s the one in charge. But if he’s protecting his identity from the general population, he’s not going to out himself to us either.” His lips curve with a slight smile as if he knows why.
Fallon raises a hand. “They’re having a meeting Saturday night. I could try to get?—”
“No,” Hale cuts her off at the pass. “Too many unknowns, too dangerous. Give it a few days, then head back to Ironwood and speak to Malcolm and Patty. I’ll start the wheels moving for a search warrant and put together a task force to help with the project. We need to blanket that compound before anyone gets a chance to hide evidence. We’ll shoot for Monday. That should give me enough time to get things together and hopefully have a full ID on the new bodies. If Malcolm and Patty are guilty, they won’t volunteer a search. They can have their party on Saturday, but come Monday, they’re finished.”
We take off and Nikki heads home to Silver Peak while I follow Fallon to Pine Ridge Falls. We drive down Main Street and she waves as she heads into the parking lot of her mother’s diner and pulls in alongside the sheriff’s vehicle.
My chest expands at the sight and I’m about to take the turn toward Whispering Woods when I jerk the wheel in the other direction instead.
What the hell. I’m feeling a little hungry myself.
I glare at the sheriff’s vehicle as I make my way inside.
A sheriff with seven bodies on his hands should be fired.
The diner is sparse with patrons. The lunch crowd probably left two hours ago, and that leaves the place in limbo until dinner.
The music is soft, the scent of burgers hits hard, and that smug look on Rob Reed’s face makes me want to punch someone—him to be exact.
Fallon is too busy smooching with his dog to notice my presence as I head their way.
“Fancy meeting you here.” I shoot the sheriff a cheesy grin.
“Howdy,” he says with a smile, but it looks forced as if he’s not too thrilled to see me either.
Fallon looks up and her lips curl into a genuine grin. “I would have asked you to join me if I knew you were hungry. I thought you and Nikki just ate.”
“We did,” I confess without meaning to. “But I thought I’d grab something for my brother.”
“Sit,” she says. “We were just about to order.”
A silver-haired maven struts this way, older, early sixties, lots of blue eyeshadow, hips that swivel, and an expression that says just try me.
I like her already.
“Mom, this is Special Agent Jack Stone,” Fallon is quick to fill the woman in. “Stone, this is my mother, Bea. She owns the place.” Fallon winks as she says it because she’s already mentioned that to me.
“It’s a great place,” I say. “I’ve been meaning to stop in. Moved here a little over a year ago. I live out in Whispering Woods, just a few doors down from Fallon.”
“Cozy,” Rob says under his breath, but I choose to ignore it for now.
Her mother sizes me up as if I were a whole new species.
“Oh my word, aren’t you a cup of hot buttered rum?” Bea purrs and elicits a laugh from me.
“Ignore her,” Fallon insists. “She hails from Tennessee and tends to get extra country when she sees something she likes. Down, girl,” she admonishes her mother somewhat playfully.
“Oh, come now.” Bea waves her off. “I got eyes, don’t I? Lucky you sitting at the table with two handsome men. What can I get for you all?”
