Page 231 of Secrets Hidden In The Glass

Chapter Forty-One

Nate walked into the sheriff’s station, craving a cup of Kay’s excellent coffee. His morning had started out rough and in no time flat had gone from bad to worse. Not even three hours after he and Callie had snuggled up on the couch and finally fallen asleep, Kay had dispatched him and Mac out to the Smiths’ residence. At six fifteen, Steve had stepped outside to find his Honda Civic missing from his driveway. Currently, Shawn and Denny were out looking for the silver late-model vehicle while rumors and speculations about the latest incident rushed through town like wildfire.

“That interview seemed like it went well,” Kay said from her chair behind her desk.

“I think I got my point across.” Nate grabbed his usual cup from the tidy coffee station stack and poured the dark brew to the rim.

“Now hopefully all of this nonsense will stop.”

Nodding, he sipped Kay’s Café Vienna blend, groaned, and sipped again. After leaving Cletus’s place, he’d scrapped his original plan to head over to the middle/high school and beelined his way over to the radio station instead, grabbing a pair of headphones and pulling up a chair next to one of the microphones, joining Teddy Drake’s morning show. Why speak to a hundred kids when he could direct his message to the entire community? “That’s the idea.”

“And, of course, you did it in your usual Nate way—calm and kind, yet we all know you’re not messing around.”

He nodded. “After I drink this down, I’ll stop by the middle/high school and see if Principal Haines has heard any whispers in the hallways. Kids like to talk. Hopefully someone knows something.”

“I imagine if you knock on Jack Lancaster’s door, you’ll solve this whole thing.”

He took another deep drink, refusing to comment. The majority of Sanderson had made up their minds that the oldest Lancaster boy and his group of friends were at the bottom of this, but he refused to close his mind off to other possibilities. It was never wise to jump to concrete conclusions, especially when his gut wasn’t screaming at him that Jack Lancaster was up to no good. “We’ll see how everything plays out.”

“You look tired.”

“I am.”

“Maybe letting someone else handle a night on call wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

He’d given the idea plenty of thought, but he wanted to keep his pulse on the town. “We’ll see how tonight goes.”

“How about you take a couple of minutes and eat these before you leave,” Kay said as she turned in her seat and took two jumbo muffins from a bakery box and put them on a paper plate. “They’re apple cinnamon.”

He accepted the plate, breathing in sweet bread and spices. “If I wasn’t crazy about Callie, I’d give Roy a run for his money.”

Kay grinned as her cheeks pinked up. “Enough of that foolish talk, Nathan. Go eat those up before all hell breaks loose around here again. We both know it’s bound to once Denny and Shawn find that car.”

“Thanks for grabbing breakfast.” He chuckled, shaking his head, as he headed down the hall to his office. It was a rare event when he could fluster Kay, so it was kind of fun when he did. Sitting behind his desk, he took a huge bite of the perfectly baked muffin top and let his shoulders relax as he chewed, savoring the delicious flavors melding on his tongue. Damn, Molly was a rock star in the kitchen. Typically, he would have stopped off at the bakery and grabbed a couple of these himself, but lately shit was piling up faster than he could shovel it. He swallowed, thinking of the current issues on the island and about Callie and the way she’d described her latest dream while they sat in the living room’s dim light. Her quiet weeping had broken his heart; his inability to take away her pain made the whole thing worse.

Eventually he hoped to get back to her case. There were clues to follow—a box of receipts he still needed to get a better look through and phone calls that needed to be made—but the chaos of the last few days hadn’t allowed him the opportunity to dig any deeper. He took another bite of his breakfast and unlocked his top drawer, searching for Trace Miller’s number he’d shoved in there a couple of days ago. Within moments, he found the sticky note under a small stack of papers and dialed, determined to find a balance between dealing with the island BS and seeking Callie’s answers. Now that Sanchez was off to Disney World with his family for a few days, Nate was on his own.

“Sanderson-Miller Advertising. This is Debbie.”

“Good morning, Debbie. This is Sheriff Nate Carter with the Carter County Sheriff’s Department. I’m wondering if Mr. Miller might be available.”

“Please hold.”

“Thanks.” He took another nibble of the muffin while classical music played in his ear.

“Sheriff, this is Trace Miller.”

Nate set down the muffin and sat up taller. “Mr. Miller, thank you for taking my call.”

“Of course. And remember, it’s Trace.”

“Trace. I wanted to thank you again for seeing me on such short notice Tuesday afternoon.”

“Certainly.”

“I’m hoping to take a couple of minutes and follow up on our conversation—see if you’ve had an opportunity to speak with Trevor or Conner.”

“At this point, neither of my boys has checked in.”