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This was not what Valerie wanted to hear. She knew that rural areas sometimes handled things at a more sedate pace than the FBI, but the clock was ticking. Jackson’s job and their unit were both hanging by a thread. She had to make a breakthrough.
“Sheriff,” Valerie said sternly, “we are working against the clock. We have our own pressures at the FBI and a schedule we have to keep to. But more than that, any delay, even an hour, means it’s one more hour with that murderer loose in your communities. We have to catch him before he kills anyone else.”
“I promise I’ll do everything I can to help, Agent Valerie. I mean, Agent Law.”
Valerie couldn’t help but smile at Sheriff Carter as he stumbled over his words. He had a certain charm to him. Behind that mustache, she realized for the first time that he was younger than he first appeared. And though he was probably experienced with the people in Kerry County, she sensed that he had never dealt with anything like this. Men often grew facial hair to appear more experienced than they were, and she wondered if that was what he was doing.
Either way, she decided not to be too hard on him.
“That’s okay, Sheriff Carter,” Valerie said. “If you are here to assist us as much as possible, I’m sure that will help us catch the killer quicker.”
“I just want to protect the people here.”
“In the report,” Will interjected, “it said that there was a witness?”
“Yes,” Sheriff Carter said. “The woman who owns this farmstead. Her name is Gina Connors. She bought the place from the Marlane family earlier this year.”
“Can you take us to her?” Charlie asked.
“Of course,” Sheriff Carter said. “She should be down this hill back in her farmhouse. I’ll take you.”
Valerie followed the towering figure of Sheriff Carter, glad to be putting the scene of that lonely tractor by the tree behind her for good.
But with no leads, she just hoped that the farm owner could give them some hint as to who the killer was.
CHAPTER SIX
Valerie passed a police officer guarding the front door and entered the farmhouse, noticing several red lettered envelopes on a sideboard as soon as she was inside. Two of the envelopes were adorned with the words “final notice”.
She immediately felt a sadness to the place. Looking at the mounting mail and patches of cobwebs, the otherwise cozy farmhouse spoke clearly to the owner’s financial worries.
Sheriff Carter led Valerie, Charlie, and Will along the rickety, old floorboards of the hallway until he stopped at another door, knocked, and waited.
“Hello?” a nervous voice said from inside the room.
“It’s Sheriff Carter, Gina.”
“Hold on,” the voice replied.
The sound of a click came, and the door unlocked. The wooden door pulled back to reveal the frightened face of a woman in her forties, her brown hair unceremoniously held up with a clasp, strands messily hanging from around it.
“You okay?” Carter asked.
“Yes … I … I think so …” She eyed Valerie.
“I’m Agent Law with the FBI, and these are my colleagues Agent Carlson and Doctor Cooper.”
Gina had the look of a rabbit stuck in headlights. She was not taking in the words exactly, this much was clear. She nodded vacantly and stepped back, letting them into a small office study.
More disorganized piles of papers were slumped on a small desk. Dusty bookcases reinforced Valerie’s impression that the woman was struggling with the upkeep of the place.
“We’re sorry to bother you,” Will began apologetically, “but we’re here from a special unit at the FBI, the Criminal Psychopathy Unit. We’re here to track down the killer, and we’re hoping you’ll be able to help us. Can you answer a few questions?”
Gina nodded vacantly again. Valerie felt uncomfortable at the motion. It reminded her all too much of her mother’s vacant head movements back at the psychiatric hospital at times.
“This has been a real shock to Gina,” Sheriff Carter said. “So, please go easy.” The sheriff ushered Gina into an old armchair and then brought her a glass of homemade lemonade from a nearby jug that had been kept cool on the windowsill.
The woman smiled. “Thanks, Glen.”
