13. Chapter 13 The Task Force

Chapter 13: The Task Force

EVELYN

We gather again at Ana's place, the room filled with a quiet urgency. Ana sits at the head of the table, her expression serious. Beside me are the trusted deputies from the department: Mark, Linda, and Teresa.

"We've made progress," Teresa says, breaking the silence. "Maybe it's time to bring in other supernatural deputies."

I shake my head. "We can't. Someone in the department could be working with the killer. I've seen it too many times."

Mark frowns. "So, we still keep it between us?"

"For now," I reply. "We need to focus on who could have stolen Elara's body."

"Do we have any leads?" Linda asks.

"I suggest a locator spell," I say. "It's a long shot, but it might work."

Ana shakes her head. "We need something of hers for that, and she's been dead too long for anyone to have it."

We fall silent, thinking. Then Ana speaks up. "I know people who can find anything in the shadows."

"Are they legal?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. The last thing I want to do is make things worse by involving the wrong people.

Ana laughs. "The Shadows are as illegal as it gets. But they're effective."

"I've never heard of them," I say. I have been here for a long time, and not even one slip of anything called the Shadows.

"It's for a select few," Ana replies. "Trust me."

We agree to let Ana contact her shadowy connections. "Meet back here after you've talked to them," I say. "And everyone, get some rest."

The deputies nod, heading out. I stay behind for a moment, looking at Ana. "Be careful," I tell her.

She smiles. "Always am."

I drive to Alexei's place, my mind heavy with the day's events. When I arrive, I smile at the deputies at the door, and I push the door open. Alexei's familiar smell attacks my nostrils, and it feels too good to be here again.

"How are things going?" he asks as I step inside. He is sitting by the window staring, and he gets up as I close the door behind me.

"We're getting closer," I say, trying to sound hopeful. "Ana has a lead. But enough about that. How are you holding up?"

He smiles faintly. "Better now that you're here."

We sit together on the couch, the day's stress melting away in his presence. "I've missed you," I say, leaning against him.

"I've missed you too," he replies, kissing me gently.

For a moment, everything else fades away. It's just the two of us; the world outside doesn't matter.

"How's the overall investigation going?" he asks after a while.

"We've uncovered some leads," I say, deciding to keep the rest of the details vague now. I do not want to plant a hope that will turn out to be the wrong thing in his mind. "It's complicated, but we're making progress."

He listens, his brow furrowing. "You sound like whatever you are getting into is dangerous."

"It is," I admit. "But we're careful."

"I don't want you getting hurt, that would kill me faster than the council's decision," he says, his voice serious.

"I'll be fine," I assure him. "We'll figure this out."

He kisses me again, more passionately this time. "I believe in you, Evelyn."

I smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. "Thank you. I needed to hear that."

We spent the evening talking about everything but the case, enjoying the rare moment of peace. It reminded me of why I'm fighting so hard to clear his name.

I stand at the podium in front of the Sheriff's Department, where the press conference is already underway. Reporters bombard me with questions, their voices a chaotic blur.

"Sheriff Evelyn, why aren't you bringing justice for the victims?"

"Is it true you're focusing on exonerating your ex-fiancé, Alexei?"

I take a deep breath, meeting their gaze. "The investigations are ongoing. I assure you, our primary focus is justice for all victims. We're following every lead, and no one is being favored or neglected."

A reporter scoffs. "It seems like a conflict of interest."

"I understand your concerns," I reply firmly. "But I can assure you, the department is dedicated to solving these cases and proving whoever is the guilty party."

More questions fly, but I end the conference. "Thank you. We will update you as soon as we have more information."

I turn and head back inside, feeling the tension ease slightly as the doors close behind me. In the conference room, the deputies are waiting.

I take my seat at the head of the table, looking at each of them. "I know this is frustrating," I begin.

"We haven't gotten many leads, but we're making progress."

The room is silent, and the deputies are waiting for me to continue speaking.

"I'm creating a task force of three deputies to focus solely on the investigation. The rest of you will continue to keep the town safe and handle general matters."

I see the relief of lifting the secrecy in their faces as I continue. "Mark, Linda, Teresa, you'll be the task force. You'll continue the investigation."

They nod as if they are just hearing the task force news.

"Keep digging, follow every lead," I say. "The killer will not disappear and get away with this, at least not on our watch."

I dismiss them, and everyone returns to their space. Once they're gone, I head to my office. The space feels both a refuge and a reminder of the responsibilities I am tasked with.

I sink into my chair, my mind racing with the day's events. The reporters' accusations still echo in my head. I pick up the phone and call Ana.

"Any news?" I ask when she answers.

"Not yet," she replies. "But they're close to finding a book of hers. It's a spell book, and I think that should work…."

"Good job, I am so proud of you," I say.

"I'll keep you posted," she promises.

I hang up and turn my attention to the stack of files on my desk. There's a lot of work to be done as the sheriff, and even if finding the killer is most important, I have to pay attention to other parts, too.

I decide to visit Zara again. There's something about her that doesn't sit right, and I have a feeling she knows more than she's letting on. This time, I go alone. No one else needs to know about this visit.

Zara's house looms ahead, a small, unwelcoming structure. I knock on the door, and after a moment, it creaks open. Zara sits in her wheelchair, her expression unfriendly.

"What do you want now?" she asks, her voice sharp.

"I have some questions," I say, stepping inside.

"Make it quick," she snaps, turning her wheelchair around to lead me into the small living room.

I follow her, feeling a chill that has nothing to do with the temperature. "Did you know someone dug up Elara's body?"

Her eyes narrow, but she doesn't look surprised. "And?"

"Do you know who did it?" I press.

She doesn't answer, just stares at me with those piercing eyes.

"I know that you know another shapeshifter survived the Great War," I say, trying to push her. "And that this shapeshifter is killing people."

Zara's face hardens. "Leave my house."

I hesitate, but her tone leaves no room for argument. I turn to go, feeling defeated. But as I reach the door, she speaks again.

"You're on the right path," she says quietly. "Shapeshifters are meant to create balance, not this chaos."

I spin around to ask more, but she closes her eyes, pretending to sleep. I leave, my mind racing. Something is off with Zara, but I can't figure out what. One thing is true: she knows the killer.

I step outside, the cool air hitting my face. I feel a mix of frustration and confusion. I pull out my phone and call Ana.

"Anything from your sources in the shadows?" I ask when she answers.

"No, nothing yet," she replies. "They're still looking."

"Okay," I say. "Thanks, Ana."

We say our goodbyes, and I hang up, feeling uneasy. I head back to my car, replaying the conversation with Zara in my mind. Her cryptic comments keep echoing in my head.

The drive back to the department is a blur. I park and sit in the car for a moment, collecting my thoughts. Something Zara said keeps nagging at me. Shapeshifters are meant to create balance, not chaos. What does that even mean?

I step out of the car and head inside, the usual buzz of activity greeting me. I head straight to my office, needing a moment to think. The silence here in my office is a stark contrast to the chaos outside and around the department.

I sit at my desk, trying to piece everything together. Zara's words, the missing body, the killings. It's all connected, but how do I find that connection?

A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. It's Mark.

"Anything new?" he asks, stepping inside.

"No," I say, sighing. "Just trying to make sense of it all."

He nods, looking at the papers scattered across my desk. "We'll get there. We always do."

I smile, appreciating his optimism. "Thanks, Mark."

He leaves, and I return to the file, my mind still racing. Zara knows more than she's saying. I'm sure of it. But how do I get her to talk?

The rest of the day passes in a blur of paperwork and meetings. By the time I head home, I'm exhausted. I unlock the door to my house and step inside, the familiar surroundings offering a small comfort. I collapse onto the couch, my mind still racing.