Royal wasn’t quite sure how he’d accomplish that, but he was hardly going to say he couldn’t handle this. Not when it was a real assignment, and right out the gate. No, he couldn’t screw this up. “All right.”
“I’ll expect a debrief in my email from you every night. And if you handle this well, deputy, it’ll go a long way in making your rookie year a lot smoother.”
“I’ll handle it, Sheriff.”
“Good. Go home and pack up what you need. Your Hope Town assignment starts first thing in the morning.”
Chapter Five
Franny didn’t sleep even though by the time she got back to her apartment she was exhausted.
She’d spent her entire evening at the sheriff’s department, assuring Audra and Rosalie she was fine, listening to Copeland and the sheriff and even Mr. Simmons lay out all the reasons she wasn’t in any danger.
Then repeating that to her cousins ad nauseam until theyfinallyrelented.
She’d showered the day off when she’d gotten back, crawled into bed and then…stared at the ceiling replaying the scene in her head, over and over again, trying to remember new details. A detail that might help.
But it was the same scene. The same feeling that if she’d been smarter or stronger she might have stepped in anddonesomething about it.
Instead, the kidnapper’s eyes had met hers and she had donenothing.
And, like both the federal agent she’d spoken to and the sheriff, she thought if the kidnapper was worried about witnesses, he would have done something about it at the time.
She considered the deputy who’d been so appalled Copeland and Mr. Simmons were going to let her go back to her apartment. He seemed to be the only one with concerns.
She rolled over onto her stomach, buried her head into her pillow. She wasn’tafraidexactly. Not for herself anyway. She was afraid for Albennie, afraid of what this all was, but shedidn’t think a kidnapper who’d gotten exactly what he wanted was going to concern himself withher.
But she was…tense. Wound up.
“And not kidnapped so maybe stop feeling sorry for yourself,” she muttered into the pillow before shoving up onto her elbows and blowing out a breath.
Okay, she wasn’t going to sleep. Maybe she could work. She reached over to her nightstand where she always left her laptop and pulled it onto her lap as she sank into the covers. She didn’t often let herself work in bed, because it tended to turn into a two- or three-day marathon ofsloth, but she got to make an exception for kidnap witnessing.
She opened her book document, looked at the last paragraph she’d written…then immediately pulled up her internet browser.
She typedAlbennie Wardinto the search engine. And then spent the next thirty minutes getting more and more frustrated.
Albennie Ward didn’t really seem to exist on the internet. No social media Franny could find, no public records, and that was weird considering how unique a name Albennie was. But there wasn’t even the stray mention of her in the obituary of a family member or on Hope Town’s bakery website.
Or anyone else for that matter.
Maybe Albennie was a nickname or a middle name, but that didn’t help Franny’s search any since she didn’t know what her real name might be. She didn’t even know how old Albennie was.
Not that finding out more about Albennie was going to do anything. It was none of her business, and she wasn’t some TV show character. She didn’t think she was going to solve a crime before the FBI or the local police department.
But she wascurious, and curiosity had led her to her career. If you asked questions, followed clues, you came up with a story.
Maybe it wouldn’t be the right story, or the true story, but it felt like…something. Something better than staring at the ceiling wishing she could have been braver and stronger andbetterin a scary moment.
Maybe she could ask Lia if Albennie went by a different name, or what her background was, or if Lia had any ideas about what had happened. Except that Lia was obviously close to Albennie, and questioning Lia felt insensitive at the moment. Poking around like she thought she was a detective when Lia had no doubt already fielded tons of questions wouldn’t be right.
What about Mr. Simmons? What washisdeal?
Which lead to the next question. What was Hope Town’s deal?
Thatwas why she was here, trying to write a book, so looking intothatwas work.
She typedZach Simmonsinto the search engine and then added FBI to the search. And a few articles showed up. Zach Simmons was a much more common name than Albennie Ward, but it was still too much of a coincidence that there was a court document from about seven years ago that included a Special Agent Zach Simmons. Something about cult members.
