CHAPTER SEVEN
"You with the feds?" said a man in a brown uniform standing next to a green and beige vehicle, with the word Sheriff written across the side.
Agent Sawyer frowned as he stepped out of the taxi he'd taken from the airport, pocketing his phone, and moving towards the scene of the crime.
He ignored the sheriff for second, his attention caught by the building behind him. "Thought we were meeting at the scene," he said, his frown deepening.
"This is it," the sheriff replied, waving towards the steps leading up to the high school doors. Caution tape blocked the entrance to the stairway, and a couple of other police officers stood near a sawhorse at the end of the parking lot, blocking access.
Agent Sawyer shivered for a moment, one foot on the street, the other on the curb. Hi
