here comes the sun

five

“So you found a veil in the woods. How does that prove a kidnapping? How did you even know it belonged to Miss Floyd?”

Karina sipped her chai latte, already feeling warmer in the borrowed, FBI issue sweats. The agent who pulled her from bed didn't give her any time to change before they headed to the station. A t-shirt and shorts were fine for sleeping when tucked in under a warm blanket and the equivalent of a space heater lying next to her. 

They brought Bob in for questioning, too. She hoped he was okay.

“Jake recognized the veil as his mother’s. It was meant to be EJ’s something borrowed. That with the tracks and the shoe...”

“So you were worried?”

“Wouldn’t you be?”

“We’re not talking about me, Miss Kerner.” Agent Waterson said, “What did you do next?”

“I took the veil and shoe to the police.”

“To Chief Simpson?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t sound happy about that.”

“That’s because I’m not.”

-&-

Jake drove them back into town, one hand on the wheel and the other out the window. 

They snapped a few photos of the tire tracks and collected the muddied shoe and veil. Jake and Karina headed to the station in the hopes newfound evidence would convince Chief Simpson to open a case. Karina doubted he would, but she put on a brave face and tried to remain hopeful. 

“There are some hunting cabins on the land no one uses.” Jake was saying, “I’ll check them out later this - are you even listening?”

“Hm?” Karina pulled her gaze from the window and shook her head. “Sorry. Hunting cabins?”

“Could be a good hiding spot. If she's not on the boat, anyway.”

“Right. Okay, well, let me know what you find.”

“You okay?”

“What if it’s not enough?” She sighed, “You saw Chief Simpson yesterday.”

“I’m a Seresin. Maybe he’ll listen to me.”

Wrong. 

From the outside, the police station matched the rest of the town. An idyllic brown brick with cream accents and pristinely kept hedges out front. A hand painted sign hung over the sidewalk declaring it the sheriff station. 

Deputy Jones was near the door when they walked in, putting on a fresh pot of coffee. Although Karina wouldn’t call the burnt-smelling grinds “fresh”. He fumbled his coffee cup when he spotted them, catching it just before it could shatter on the floor.

“Oh! Um. Chief’s not taking -”

Jake ignored him, pointing Karina towards Chief Simpson’s cluttered desk at the back of the station. She marched forward, veil and shoe in hand. 

“Ugh, not you again.” Simpson rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair; a clear showing of indifference. 

“Yes. Me again. Doing your job for you.” She crossed her arms, “Jake and I uncovered some evidence in the woods on his property. The same woods you didn’t bother to check.”

“What kind of ‘evidence’?” 

She didn’t like the way he put air-quotes around the word ‘evidence’.