He seemed to consider her words before walking around Reed's desk. Warren drew back the curtain until he was able to gaze out at Main Street. The morning sun was not kind to his aging skin.
“I hear Mason’s release papers are being processed, and he should be returning home within a week.”
Hadley wasn’t going to discuss her brother with the mayor. She flipped the lid once more before settling it on top of the box. Warren didn’t need to know that she had intended to drive out to the prison this morning, only to find herself pulling into Reed’s parking space instead. She couldn't face her brother just yet.
The weight of what she'd done, of what she'd taken from him, threatened to press down on her until she suffocated to death. Which was why she had put in for some personal leave. She would take the days given to her to get the house ready for him. New appliances were already scheduled for delivery tomorrow. Once everything was in place, she would leave the key under a brand-new welcome mat.
“Have you spoken with Allen or Ty Hobbs?” Hadley asked, deliberately steering the conversation away from Mason.
“Ty's healing. Physically, at least. The doctors say there's no permanent damage from the concussion.” Warren turned away from the view, his gaze seeking hers. “I spoke with Turner. The forensics team has identified another burial site using ground-penetrating radar. They believe there might be more than our seven known victims.”
Warren rubbed his chin in frustration.
“All these years. Right under our noses.”
Hadley didn't respond immediately. They all shared this responsibility—the entire town did. They'd allowed an urban legend to explain away the disappearances of young women. They'd chosen to believe in theThreshing Manrather than look too closely at their neighbors.
It was easier that way.
Safer.
Hadley collected her purse from where she'd set it in the chair. Her phone and keys were inside, ready for her departure. She’d already placed the station key on Reed's desk.
“I’ll get right to it, Hadley. The town council has been discussing the police chief position,” Warren announced before taking a step toward her. His tone had shifted between sentences, the practiced authority of the mayor returning to his voice. “We’ve all agreed that we need continuity right now. Stability.”
“I take it that Elijah will be resuming his duties?”
“No. We need new leadership,” Warren said, his chin lifting slightly as he assumed the formal bearing that had won him three terms as mayor. “We’d like to offer you the position, Hadley. Officially.”
A startled laugh escaped her before she could contain it. It soon faded when he didn’t join in.
“Warren, I have a job.”
“You also have wounds that need healing.” Warren's expression remained unchanged, no hint of humor in his eyes. “This town needs healing, and we need someone who understands both what we've been through and what needs to change.”
“You said yourself that Sheriff Turner?—”
“I know what I said, Hadley. I also recall your thoughts on the subject. Turner has an entire county to manage,” Warren cut in smoothly. “Five towns. And we both know Whistlerun is the black sheep. This town needs someone whose sole focus is this community. Someone who's proven they'll pursue the truth, no matter how uncomfortable. That person is you.”
Hadley shook her head, unable to process what she was hearing. She didn’t belong here, and no one wanted her here, especially Mason.
“Warren, I think it best that you allow Sheriff Turner to?—”
“In case you’ve forgotten, Reed's killer is still out there.”
“We don’t know that,” Hadley countered sharply. “Kalen could be?—”
“Don’t give me that song and dance. You know as well as I do that kid didn’t get the upper hand on Reed. I’m ordering the investigation into his death to stay open. Who better to pursue that than you?”
Warren was using Reed as leverage, and she didn’t appreciate the mayor’s tactics. Before she could verbalize her displeasure, a soft thud startled her. She turned to find that the dry-eraser had fallen to the floor.
Hadley stared at the office item for so long that Warren muttered something about how he’d get it for her. She cut him off, carefully setting her purse down on top of the box.How many times had she dismissed urban legends and the residents’ belief in the supernatural? And how many times had Reed countered her claim?
“Just because you can’t measure something, doesn’t mean it isn’t real.”
“Hadley?”
Warren’s voice prompted Hadley to stand with the eraser in hand. She placed it back onto the thin tray, taking the sign for what it was worth.
