CHAPTER NINE
It was six p.m. and getting dark outside, but inside, May thought the Fairshore police department was as neat as it had ever been. There wasn't as much as a sheet of paper out of place. She and Owen had freed up some space and made a desk available for the agents. On it, they'd placed a phone, and all the paperwork relevant to the case.
Their ex-case.
May had officially been pulled off it, as of this afternoon. It wasn't her case anymore. The agents were now en-route and would be taking it over when they arrived.
May didn't even know who they were sending. Jack didn’t know himself. But she had seriously mixed emotions about handing it over.
The case was important. It was big. But she worried that it was not going to be solved faster by taking it out of local hands.
She felt thoroughly conflicted that the case she had pursued with such passion was now being handed over to people who were regarded as vastly more experienced and more capable - naturally, since they were FBI agents.
The thought made May feel resentful, as if she was useless. But she knew she couldn't allow herself to feel like that or she wouldn't be able to do her job right. She had to learn how to be professional, take pride in the things she had done, and not get bogged down by her emotions when things went bad.
But even so, it burned her that they would have little to no involvement in a case that was affecting their own community.
She sighed heavily as she and Owen stood at the door, checking that every detail was in place, right down to pens and pencils and notepads on the desk.
"Are you okay?" Owen asked her.
"I think so"
"It feels tough to give this up," Owen said. “It feels wrong, somehow. As if we’re handing it over to people who won’t feel the same about it as we do.”
May felt surprised and touched by his sympathy. She was glad he seemed to feel the same way, as if they had been sidelined.
"Let's go get a drink," Owen suggested.
“Excellent idea.” A drink was exactly what she needed now, and the local bar was just three blocks away, down a side street.
They headed out of the police station and walked down Main Street.
May hoped that over a drink, it might be easier to talk to Owen about her reservations regarding the FBI.
Not about Kerry specifically, but about the FBI team in general, and the problems she thought the case would face if they took it over. She would feel better if she was able to unload.
May still couldn’t believe they had to hand this case over at such a critical time, and felt as if she needed to let off a lot of steam about it. They should be working on it now, and not heading out for a drink.
"I wonder who they are sending," Owen asked her, as they passed the real estate agency and wound down the side street to the bar.
"I wish I knew," May told him.
But she didn't say, "I'm not looking forward to finding out."
They headed into Dan's Bar, which from the outside was simple and farmhouse-style. Inside, it was more glamorous, with wood-paneled walls, red carpeting, and a huge, polished bar counter.
Behind it stood Dan, the owner himself, dispensing drinks to a group that had just arrived.
He gave May a quick grin when he saw her, white teeth flashing in his tanned face. His chestnut hair, perfectly cut, flopped over his left eyebrow.
She felt herself blushing as she smiled back. She had a huge, unspoken crush on Dan. Not only was he tall and well-built, but he was also witty and intelligent. The combination made him impossibly charming.
Of course, May was unable to tell him how she felt.
She dreamed of having the courage, one day, to ask Dan out on a date.
"What can I get for you guys?" he asked.
"Two beers on tap, please," May said. She watched Dan pour the drinks, admiring the way he moved, with a smile and a lightness of touch.
"How's work been?" Dan asked with a smile. “How’s my favorite policewoman today?”
Did he mean that? May felt constricted by shyness as she tried to fumble her way through the dynamics of flirting, wishing she was better at it.
"We had a tough case today," she said. Not exactly flirtatious, she chastised herself.
Dan looked intently at her, and she blushed under his gaze.
"I'm sure it was. What was it?"
"A serial killer," May said.
"Are you talking about the body in the lake?" Dan asked, his tone now harder. She’d successfully derailed any attempt at flirting. Well done, May, she berated herself.
"I heard about that. It sounds absolutely terrible. Shocking,” Dan continued.
"Yes," May said. "We've been working on it, although we've had to hand it over. Now it's being taken over by the FBI."
Dan nodded. “I guess they have the expertise,” he said.