Chapter 12 - Deputies, Detectives and Deities - I

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  Rachel didn't expect a moment of rest for days at this rate.

  As small of a town as Rallsburg purported to be, Rachel and Jackie still found enough incidents of confrontation between the Awakened and the mundane to find themselves occupied at every hour. They'd only managed to squeeze in breakfast before they were called out to defuse the confrontation between Robert Harrison and Cinza, which was by far the worst pairing Rachel had expected. Luckily, that had been settled relatively amicably, to Rachel's surprise—and relief.

  Instead, it was the less dramatic entanglements that drew the greatest anxiety. Some people loved surprises, but Rachel absolutely was not one of them. There were elements to the town she rarely considered, and when those elements were roused to confront the new reality that had been thrust upon them, Rachel was smothered in fear-mongering, distrust and—as Cinza feared—outright witch-hunting.

  For all her attempts to remind people of due process and innocence, there were still rumblings for blood. People—especially the mundane elements of the community—wanted someone to blame for the murders. Two college kids were bad enough, even if they weren't locals or particularly popular, but Jenny Wilson would be more than enough to start a crusade. Rallsburg didn't have that many children anymore, so everyone knew them well. Jenny wasn't a universally beloved figure or anything, but she was liked well enough—and with an incident like sudden, brutal murder, that was more than enough to turn her into a martyr. Public evidence had placed one person squarely in the crosshairs.

  Rachel didn't think much of what Rika had done in the past, but she knew she had to protect her friend in the present no matter what rifts might exist between them. Rika was innocent. She knew that without a doubt. If she were convicted, their entire community was at risk. This was to be the first major challenge of their emergence.

  How could she disprove Rika's involvement?

  The car bumped and crashed over a pothole as they swerved around a corner. Jackie had just answered a call from Deputy Bowman asking for backup. Something was happening at Hector's grocery, which sent Rachel's heart sinking. Hector had been revealed through her own actions at the town hall, where in her haste she hadn't thought to signal him in some more discreet way. He'd come to her aid, as he always had, and now he was starting to pay the price for it.

  "Please, I don't want any trouble," Hector said meekly, his hands in the air behind the counter.

  "We don't either, but you've gotta tell us how." The leader of the trio, a student from the University who'd stayed for the summer (Logan Bowerson), was leaning over the counter with an eager glint in his eyes, while his cronies leered.

  "Logan!" Rachel shouted, after Jackie faltered. The sheriff had noted to Rachel how using someone's given name was vastly more effective at getting their attention, but the sheriff would never have Rachel's capacity to recall every single person they ran across in an instant. Logan turned at the call, giving them the delay they needed to close in and give Hector some support.

  Hector looked even more flustered at the sudden crowd near his store's counter, backing into the corner with his hands still raised. Logan had a knife at his belt, though it hadn't been drawn, and his wingmen looked ready for a fight.

  "What do you want?" Logan snapped.

  "Just to talk," Rachel said, raising her own hands to try and placate the group. Jackie stood a few paces behind, just close enough to intervene if needed. Rachel's blood was already beginning to race. She never liked being surrounded by people. She enjoyed having the attention of a crowd, certainly—but they needed to be at a remove, as with the town hall meeting. Up close and personal sent her heart pumping and her head spinning.

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