Page 15 of Forever Gone

The lack of people made every small task more visible. No conversations drifted over cubicle walls. Nobody appeared in the doorway with a question or a file. When Selena left a mug beside the sink, it remained exactly where she placed it. The building offered no sign that anyone else intended to arrive.

A former principal’s office near the entrance would have made the obvious headquarters. Rain had damaged its outer wall, and the room smelled of old plaster. Selena had chosen the teachers’ lounge instead.

The door still bore a faded sign:

FACULTY ONLY

Someone had crossed out FACULTY years ago and written COOL PEOPLE in marker beneath it.

Selena pushed inside.

Four metal desks occupied the room. Three were bare. Hers stood near the windows, supporting a laptop, two case files, a phone dock, and a stack of forms that needed scanning. Filing cabinets lined one wall. A cork board held a county map, contact numbers for local police and fire departments, and an FBI memorandum reminding personnel not to use unsecured wireless networks.

A small kitchenette filled the opposite corner. The sink worked when it wanted to. The refrigerator hummed steadily but froze anything placed on its top shelf. Selena had not tested the stove.

Sunlight reached through bent blinds and striped the empty desks.

She set her keys beside the laptop.

The incoming agent would take the desk closest to the door. Assuming the person arrived. A second agent could work opposite Selena. Administrative staff would need somewhere else, perhaps the old language classroom across the hall once the electrical outlets were repaired.

Planning the room made the office feel less temporary.

That troubled her more than she wanted to admit.

A cardboard box remained beneath her desk, still sealed from the move. It contained books, framed certificates, and a photograph of Selena with her father and Diane taken before any of them had learned how long a family could carry the same argument.

She had told herself there was no point unpacking until the office was ready. The rest of her stuff was still in her room at the Wilson Motel on the outskirts of Elmsview.

Her phone rang.

The screen displayed the Harlan County Sheriff’s Department.

Selena let it ring once more before answering.

“Agent Raven.”

“Hello, Agent Raven.”

Cheryl’s voice was polite in the careful way people became polite when friendliness was not available.

“Nice to hear from you, Cheryl.”

“Sure.”

Selena sat behind the desk. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ve been told to give you an address. The sheriff needs your assistance. I just sent the location to your phone.”

A message notification appeared at the top of the screen.

“My assistance?”

The wording caught her attention. Connor could have called directly. Instead, he had asked Cheryl to contact her, formal enough to keep distance between them.

“What does he need?” Selena asked.

“I think he needs you to look over a crime scene.”