“The room was full of activity; several men and women sat at desks and a dispatcher handled the switchboard. There was a sense of urgency, of purpose, as deputies—uniformed and not—spoke on the phone, carried on conversations or typed at computers.Damn it all, this was exactly the atmosphere Roy loved. He wanted to close his eyes, breathe in the scent of stale coffee, the sounds of cops at work. There was an excitement here. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to play an active role in law en...forcement and he missed it. Except for the paperwork, he reminded himself. When he was on the force, he’d spent more than half his time filling out forms.“How ya doing, Roy?” a uniformed woman asked when he approached.Roy didn’t recognize her. “I’m good. I’m here to see Sheriff Davis.”She smiled. “I’ll tell him you’re here.”“I’d appreciate it.” Roy had phoned soon after the first of the year, after he’d done everything he could on his end of the investigation.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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