Lost in the Wild Leigh Mayberry (books for 20 year olds .txt) 📖

pulled at the rim of his ski cap. He pulled up on the zipper of his jacket. Heavy boots, snow pants and thick gloves, Lester knew how to protect himself against the weather. He turned away and tracked down the beach toward the rest of the crews.

Meghan throttled the four-wheeler, swung around and kicked up gravel from the beach racing back to town. She feared someone already cast judgment on Vincent. Meghan witnessed a miscarriage of justice earlier in the year when Riley’s ex-girlfriend went to prison for a murder she didn’t commit. Meghan wasn’t able to fight the charges. Hannah Payuk was wrongly accused and accepted the punishment without a trial. Meghan knew the real killer got away and left town shortly after Hannah consented to the crime. She couldn’t unpack the layers of psychological bubblegum that Hannah had inside her misguided brain. Meghan knew Vincent wasn’t a violent man or a pedophile in the same way she knew a dog could never be a dog. She knew if someone started leaning on him, Vincent might share the same fate as Hannah and accept a charge to a crime he didn’t commit.

Chapter Twelve

 Vincent Atkinson was pushing forty and looking guilty. Meghan saw he had red-rimmed eyes from uncontrollable crying. Two cadets brought him to the police station while handcuffed. It was standard procedure and not something Meghan could undo. He saw Meghan from the archway as he sat quietly at the conference room table. He had round prescription glasses that made his round face look chubbier.

Three troopers stood together with the two FBI cadets. Meghan unlocked her office and shed the coat. She tossed her knit cap on the desk. She collected the digital camera gear and motioned to one of the younger men to set up the camera.

“Chief Sheppard, I didn’t do nothing,” Vincent said.

“Hey, what did I tell you?” The cadet pointed the finger at Vincent as if to openly scold him. Vincent looked to his sneakers.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Vincent,” Meghan said. She ignored the young man glaring at her. She knew Wilcox authorized her to talk to Vincent. They didn’t stop her. “We’re going to set up the camera for documenting the interview. All this happens only if you want it to because I don’t know if these guys said anything, but you are here voluntarily.”

Vincent lifted his hands on his lap. The handcuffs weren’t something added for conversation.

“I know. It’s precautionary,” she said. Meghan used her cuff key to remove the handcuffs from Vincent. She handed off the cuffs to one of the cadets. “You and I will have a discussion.”

“If this is about Chrissy—”

Meghan lifted her hand, and Vincent immediately stopped talking. “Let’s wait until we get the equipment set up. This way, you won’t have to sit too long or answer questions twice.”

It took two cadets to set up the tripod and the camera. Meghan grabbed the laptop from the office and plugged in the HDMI cable from the camera into the computer. While the program started, Meghan sat in a chair with the lens over her right shoulder. The camera focused on Vincent.

Someone pounded on the front door. Meghan turned to the troopers.

“Can you guys see who that is, don’t let any civilians in here. Word might be out about finding the jacket.”

“What jacket,” Vincent asked.

Meghan ignored him for now. “If there are a lot of people out there, do your best to take names and keep them calm. We don’t know what’s happening yet, and with the agents bringing in Vincent, people might get the wrong impression.”

“I didn’t get the wrong impression when I saw that stuff.”

“What did you do with it?” Meghan asked.

“I left it in the apartment. My colleague is standing guard in the hallway until we get a federal warrant authorized to collect the panties.” When he said it, the cadet glared at Vincent.

Meghan shook her head. “You need to relax. You’re supposed to detach your feelings from your assignments. Remember your training.”

“What would you know about it?” he asked.

One of the troopers coughed, catching himself from laughing.

Meghan regarded the young man. He was all upper body strength, athletic lean with a thick neck that matched his sloping shoulders. He was the new breed of federal recruits. The kind of young specimen better serving in the military than the bureau, he didn’t read briefs, Meghan knew that. Wilcox was a man of little surprises. He had highlights for the cadets before they arrived in town. Knowledge was the best defensive weapon. He had notes that including biographies on all people involved, including Meghan. She wasn’t interested in refresher lessons.

“Get the camera started.”

He looked at the troopers as they moved through the archway before he followed Meghan’s directions. Meghan knew they did or said something that prompted him to act. She didn’t care what happened, only that he followed instructions.

Once they had the digital camera recording the interview, Meghan sat under the lens, watching Vincent. She took a breath, making sure he saw her relax. It wasn’t an interrogation.

“Vincent, can you state your name, occupation, and date of birth for the camera?” Meghan asked.

She saw Vincent look up at the lens and give the information.

“Now, I want you to know before we get started. At this time, this is an informal interview. You are not required to be here. I’m not going to read your rights because you’re not under arrest. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he said.

“How about you explain that back to me,” Meghan said. Active listening wasn’t easy to gauge on other people. Meghan wanted Vincent to know that he had rights, and no one tried to violate them for misgivings and misinterpretations.

Vincent did his best to give back what she said to him.

“At any point, you don’t want to continue,