The Colton Sheriff. Addison Fox

manager and a slim, mousy woman who had to be his wife. They all took seats in the front row.

       So not good.

      Aisha pulled out her notes and scanned them once more. Although she and Trey had kept her involvement with the crimes to themselves, she had prepared a few arguments as a Roaring Springs resident who was concerned about the killings and who had a background qualified enough to raise the proper points. Nothing she’d prepared would contradict anything already publicized in the news, but it would put a clinician’s spin on the details in hopes of calming some riled nerves. Based on the rumors she’d already heard since walking in, the town’s citizens were ready to lock up all young women between the ages of fifteen and thirty in hopes of keeping them safe.

      The murmuring that started behind her pulled Aisha from her thoughts, and she finally turned around, curious to what had created the hubbub. The meeting still had about five minutes until things were called to order so it wasn’t that slight buzz that swelled just before things started. It was only when a few people still milling around the back parted that Aisha saw the reason for the fuss.

      They had a genuine movie star in their midst.

      Obviously hoping to sneak in unrecognized, Prescott Reynolds had missed that mark completely. He had Phoebe Colton, one of Trey’s younger cousins, on his arm. Although the two of them presented a united front, clearly in love by their connected body language and close heads bent toward each other, their stiff shoulders telegraphed they were both uncomfortable, as well.

      Aisha didn’t know Phoebe well, but the moment she caught the young woman’s eyes, she waved the couple over. The back row still had plenty of room, people anxious for any drips or drabs of gossip having filled in the front. Their voracious appetites now worked in Prescott’s and Phoebe’s favor.

      Phoebe nodded at the invitation and in moments the two of them were seated beside Aisha.

      “Thank you for the quick rescue,” Phoebe whispered as she settled into her seat.

      Aisha didn’t miss the way Prescott’s arm wrapped around Phoebe’s slim shoulders or his clear protectiveness of her.

      “Let me introduce you,” Phoebe said.

      It was the work of a few seconds for Aisha to meet one of the world’s most recognizable movie stars. And although her heart had long beat for Trey Colton, she couldn’t deny its rapid speed at the heartbreakingly attractive face that stared back at her. Prescott Reynolds was warm and observably kind. Handsome as sin, too. The camera didn’t lie when framing his image, but if anything, it failed to truly capture his dazzling blue eyes or thousand-watt smile.

      Despite the fanfare that seemed to follow him everywhere, she liked him instantly.

      He was also obviously in love with Phoebe.

      The two had gone public with their relationship the prior week and it had been the one thing that had given Trey a slight reprieve from the endless barrage of press. While a killer on the loose was and would remain big news, the romance of a major Hollywood heartthrob had added a delicious twist to the endless coverage in Roaring Springs.

      Trey had also told her that the couple’s willingness to go public wasn’t just about their personal happiness. His cousin Skye was Phoebe’s twin sister. With her sister missing, Phoebe was desperate for any way to find her, and the constant images on the TV and internet were hopefully a way to draw Skye out. The thought was, if Skye had simply gone away on her own, she would see the news and get in contact. But if she were missing, there was a greater hope the publicity surrounding her twin’s happiness would draw out a killer.

      A dangerous game, Aisha knew. Sadly, she couldn’t find fault in their logic.

      The meeting was called to order, and the murmuring at the movie star in their midst died down as the town focused their attention on the front of the room. Trey came out, along with several other county leaders and the mayor of Roaring Springs, who acted as a moderator for these meetings and presented a connection point for the county seat and the broader proceedings in Bradford County.

      The mayor set up the purpose of the meeting and in moments turned the mic over to Trey. He’d barely stood and begun to make his arguments for increased patrols, personnel support and the approval of overtime when Barton Evigan started in.

      “Great idea. Spend more money on an already mismanaged case. Smart move, Sheriff.”

      Trey never fumbled but even in the back row Aisha saw the narrowing of his mouth and the steel that filled his deep brown eyes. “We’ve followed protocol every step of the way.”

      “This should have been wrapped up weeks ago. You’ve Keystone-Copped this from the start. Sheriff.” Evigan’s pointed use of the word sheriff clearly wasn’t a sign of respect. And while she couldn’t see his face from her seat, Aisha had no doubt the man’s smirk had vanished and that sneer was firmly back in place.

      “We are in the midst of a thorough investigation over the death of six women. I’d hate to shortchange any of their lives or the crimes perpetrated against them out of a concern for poor publicity.”

      Score! Aisha thought with no small measure of satisfaction. Trey had refused to go on the offensive with Barton but he had every right to defend himself. Pushing on the publicity angle was one of the best blocks he had.

      “So in the meantime you put the rest of the town at risk for a serial killer.”

      Clearly done with Barton and his taunting, Trey stood up. He wore his dress uniform, the starched press of khaki only making his shoulders look broader and more authoritative. “This investigation isn’t a TV show, Mr. Evigan. I’m not looking for a daily spot on the evening news. I want the perpetrator of these heinous crimes apprehended and put behind bars as quickly as possible. But I will not put this investigation at risk, making shoddy decisions over protocol, because of uninformed hecklers poking at the work done by the good men and women of my department.”

      The tide of the meeting turned in Trey’s favor, several hoots and hollers swelling up along with the clapping. Evigan had enough sense to sit down but Aisha could still see the hunch of his shoulders. It reminded her of a wounded animal, biding its time as it waited to strike.

      “Real charming guy,” Prescott said. “I can’t believe that clown is running for sheriff against Colton.”

      His voice was low enough not to carry all the way to the front, but it could be overheard by the people sitting a few rows in front of them. Aisha had already seen their furtive glances back toward Prescott, and their excitement that he was in their presence. Although Aisha wanted Trey to win the reelection fairly and squarely, the clear endorsement in his favor, from an influential celebrity, no less, was a big help.

      The meeting continued with little interruption. One of the town’s matrons asked about overall public safety with her grandchildren coming in for a two-week visit. Trey assured her they were on high alert and refocused her attention on some upcoming activities sponsored by the local tourism board designed for family-fun days throughout the month of August.

      What he didn’t mention but Aisha knew was that the risk to children and families was relatively low. Unless cornered, the Avalanche Killer had a specific pattern in victim selection. Small children—thankfully—didn’t fit that MO.

      It was only when Russ Colton spoke up that the room seemed to take on a new vibe.

      “I appreciate all you’re doing, Trey. There’s no one in town I respect to keep law and order more than my brother’s son. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t air my concerns about tourism. The film festival last month had a few hitches, as we all know. My daughter Skye is still missing. How are we supposed to rest easy?”

      “Oh, boy.” Phoebe whispered the words under her breath and reached for Prescott’s hand while Aisha raced over her notes once more, hoping to find something to diffuse the situation.

      She’d barely stood, hoping to take the mic floating around the room, when Barton beat her to the punch. The