Pete grimaced, yanking a large key ring from his back pocket to throw onto the table. “I need to lose weight.”
She lifted an eyebrow.
He settled his bulk more comfortably in the worn leather chair. “I’m not hiding anything from you. Something odd is going on in this town, and I think Seth is involved. I wanted your expert take on him. It’s nothing more than my gut instinct.”
She’d bet her life on her old trainer’s gut. “Why Seth?”
Pete scratched his wide jaw. “He’s known as the Volk family’s enforcer. If there’s a problem, Seth steps in, and the problem goes away.”
“Was Ruby Redbird a problem?”
“I don’t know yet. But she was supposedly dating Erik Volk, the youngest son.”
“So?”
Pete shrugged. “It’s a connection.” He slid another file across the desk.
Mia opened the folder. A young woman smiled from a photograph. Black eyes sparkled with fun, while a thick braid kept her dark hair in check. “Ruby was beautiful.”
“Yes, and she was from the wrong side of the tracks.”
Mia lifted an eyebrow. “There are tracks here?”
“Figuratively. Ruby’s people are deep-earthers.”
Intrigue had Mia running her finger over the photograph. “Deep-earthers?”
“Blue-collar, old-time miners. No college grads. Heck, no high school grads.”
“They go right to work in the mines.”
Pete nodded. “Most men in this town head to the mines the second they turn sixteen.”
“Sixteen-year-old boys don’t count as men.”
“They do in this town.”
“What about the women?” Mia flipped pictures over, pausing at one showing the dead woman lying on a rock formation over some wet leaves.
“They get married.”
Mia nodded, studying the photographs. Spread-eagled and secured to the ground by shiny handcuffs attached to what looked like rock-climbing bolts, Ruby had been beaten across the neck and chest. A long, protruding spike remained embedded in her throat. Blood covered her denim shirt, neck, and face. Horror lined her smooth cheeks, even in death. “Handcuffs are an odd choice.”
Pete nodded, reached into his back pocket, and tossed a shiny pair of cuffs onto the table. “Yeah. These are pure silver, as are the ones that bound Ruby.”
Mia frowned. “Pure silver?” She fingered the smooth metal and leaned in to read a stamp in the middle. “Volk Mining.”
“Yes. We have a box of them in the back room—all created and donated by the Volk Mining Company decades ago.”
“That’s so weird. Why?”
Pete rubbed his chin. “Some sort of odd tradition. When the mine first opened, there was no real law in the area. So they made up their own policing force and created handcuffs with silver from the mines. I guess the mold used today is the same as that used three hundred years ago.”
“The cuffs are a huge arrow pointing to the mine.” Maybe too big.
“Yeah, and that’s not all.” Pete pointed to the photograph. “Those are rock bolts in the ground—also from the mine. They’re used to secure lines to the walls.”
“Interesting. What about the stake in her throat?”
