Broken Trust. Sharon Dunn

I might be able to give you some insight into where to look.”

      “We can do that, but I—” Despite the difficult position he had put her in, she was trying to be helpful. “What I really need is for you to think about everything you have dealt with since you got elected. Maybe even something you noticed before you took office. Groups like this often start out benign and become radicalized because of one or two members. They might start off with vandalism of federal property or something like that.” He detected the same flash of agitation in her features he had seen last night.

      “I did think about it. I have the same thing to tell you this morning that I told you last night. There has not been any crime that set off alarm bells for me as being symptomatic of a buildup to domestic terrorism.” She looked away from him and tapped on her keyboard. “You will recall that I was trained to know what to look for with that sort of thing.”

      Tension filled the air between them. She didn’t like being pressed, but he needed answers. He stepped toward her desk. “One of Lansky’s emails we intercepted specifically mentioned Mohler County. Roosevelt is symbolic to these guys because of what happened here ten years ago, like Ruby Ridge and Waco were for Timothy McVeigh. I thought maybe if you had a night to sleep on it, something would come to mind.”

      Christine flipped open the file. “I checked on what has been done to find Tyler Lansky. We never got a missing-child report. Was an AMBER Alert even issued?”

      Christine had always been a competent investigator. Whatever her feelings were toward him, she was concerned about the kid. “His dad isn’t going to hurt him. Tyler has been used as a ping-pong ball in a contentious divorce, but there is no indication there’s been any abuse.”

      “Infecting your kid with violent philosophies is psychological abuse. I want to find that boy as bad as you do, but I think you are looking in the wrong place.”

      They weren’t looking in the wrong place. She couldn’t see past her loyalty to the townspeople. “I need some kind of lead. If you could just point me to a person who might know something.”

      “I am not aware of any extremist element around here. Most of the families that were a part of the siege ten years ago left the county in shame. But no one in town has forgotten about that boy being shot. I doubt they would trust an agent enough to tell you anything.”

      That truth hit him like a rock thrown against his chest. He couldn’t go forward in the investigation without her. “You have a relationship with these people. They will talk to you.”

      Christine drew her mouth into a tight line. “I can give you full access to all our arrest records and reports.” She paced across the floor to the coffeepot.

      All her movements had been jerky and nervous since she’d come into the office. Though she maintained a professional demeanor, he knew her well enough to know she was upset about him showing up here. But was her irritation about the way they were running the case or about what they had been to each other ten years ago?

      “Both Deputy Mitchell and I will help you with surveillance, or if you just need directions to someplace, or—” Her voice faltered when she spilled coffee on her hand. She cupped her other hand over it.

      Sympathy surged through him as he bolted across the room. “Did you burn yourself? Let me see.” He reached for her.

      She twisted and pulled her hand out of reach. “It’s nothing. I’ll take care of it.” She looked up at him, eyes like granite. “I’m still only going to deal in hard evidence, and I’m still telling you that I have not seen anything that makes me believe there is any kind of group around that is a threat.” Her voice strained to the point of breaking. She turned her back to him.

      He was beginning to think that he was the worst person to send on this assignment. There was an elephant in the room that was getting in the way of the investigation. All the hurt he had caused her ten years ago was rising up to the surface. The undercurrent of tension in her voice told him he had pushed hard enough. Regret washed through him over the man he used to be … for how he had treated her. He reached out to touch her shoulder, but withdrew. She was a married woman. He didn’t want her to misinterpret the gesture. He softened his tone. “Guess I’ll look at those records.”

      “Good.” She turned back to face him and offered him an artificial smile. “If you like, I can set you up in the next room. I can pull all the reports for the last six months. You can read through them to your heart’s content.”

      Though she was trying hard to sound cordial, the lines in her forehead revealed her anguish.

      “I suppose that is a place to start,” he said.

      She wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to him. “That’s where you access the most recent files.” She pointed. “If you go through that door, there’s a quiet room with a computer. You can work there.”

      He had to be honest—no matter how hard he tried to dismiss it, who they had been to each other ten years ago was affecting how they related to each other now. “I’m sorry. I know this puts you in a difficult position.”

      Christine’s tone softened. “It’s all right. We’re both just trying to do our job.”

      Wyatt sat down at a wooden table that had a desktop computer on it. Except for a clock, the walls were bare. The only other furniture was a row of file cabinets.

      Christine closed the door a few minutes after he sat down, but he could still hear her moving around and talking on the phone.

      After three hours of reading, his only conclusion was that this was a place that didn’t have much crime. Mostly vandalism by teenagers and stolen farm equipment. But there was an illegal-weapons charge against a man named Angus Morrison that intrigued him.

      Wyatt closed the window on the computer and rubbed his tired eyes. Considering that they thought this would be a two- or three-day assignment, this felt like a waste of time. He pushed his chair back, stood up and entered the main room.

      Christine was gone, but the dark-haired deputy sat at her desk typing.

      “Did you find anything that was helpful, Mr. Green?” She didn’t look up from her computer.

      “Nothing that stands out. I don’t suppose you’ve noticed anything?”

      “I can’t tell you anything more than Sheriff Norris did. She did ask me to offer to take you anywhere you needed to go or at least give you directions. It’s easy to get lost once you get out of town with no road signs.” She pushed her chair back and walked toward the coffeepot.

      “That’s just the problem. Right now we are looking at thousands of acres of private and public land. We need a way to narrow down the possibilities. The best thing would be to ferret out someone who knows something and is ready to talk.”

      Deputy Mitchell shrugged. “We’re not lying to you when we say we haven’t seen or heard anything. Are you sure you’re right about him coming up this way? Wouldn’t Lansky have come into town with his little boy if he’s here?”

      “Not if he was being careful and didn’t want to risk being spotted.” He crossed his arms. “Emmett is not stupid. He knows we are looking for him. His plan is probably to lie low long enough for the intensity of the investigation to let up, then he’ll take his kid somewhere we can never find him. The window of opportunity for us to find Tyler is pretty narrow.”

      After she poured herself a cup of coffee, Lisa sat back down in her chair. “That poor little boy. I do wish we could help.” She clutched her coffee cup and stared off into space.

      Even the deputy seemed a little guarded around him. Maybe if he could tear down some walls, she’d be willing to prod her memory a little harder. He rocked back and forth, toe to heel. “So, a woman sheriff and a female deputy. That’s pretty forward thinking.”

      Color rose up in Lisa’s cheeks as she sat her coffee cup down. “You mean since everyone in rural areas is backward thinking and behind