The Last Pureblood Erde

3. Sheriff's fear (✔)

I looked at the number of people who had gathered at the funeral of Carol and Louis Anderson. How many of them were here because they wanted to pay their respects and how many were just to be here? As far as I knew, not many would be labeled as 'friends', mere acquaintances maybe.

Brody came up to me and knocked on the window of my car. I rolled it down.

"What?" I asked him.

He leaned in and pointed at the back, "There is someone looking for you."

I turned around in my seat and sighed when I caught the eye of Sheriff Jarrod Wilde standing behind my car. He had black hair with a strong physique, almost 6 feet. He held a neutral expression. "What does he want?" I asked Brody.

He shrugged, "The usual stuff, questions. You looked into their house."

I thought about it for a moment. "I'll go," I said. "It's not like he'll take 'no' for an answer." The man could be hot-headed at times. The faster it got over, the better. I got out of the car and tossed the keys at him, "Give them to dad. He would be somewhere there. And ask them to relax, I'll be fine. A-"

"And specifically tell your mom you are okay," he completed me.

I nodded.

Sheriff greeted me when I walked up to him, "Isn't it a lovely day?" He looked at everybody else.

I nodded, "A little too lovely."

He scoffed, "I see you were done here. Would you mind coming to the station? We'd like to record your sightings as well."

"I think my friends told what we saw," I replied.

He raised an eyebrow, "They told what they saw. You have definitely more to it. Besides, they were your neighbors."

I shake my head, "Don't expect me to know them very well." And I did not. I only knew what the others did.

"We'll see," he mumbled.

I turned to him with a petrified look. Did he think I was lying?

*****

"I told you I don't know," I said, on the verge of losing my patience. He had been asking me the same question consistently for five minutes.

"What did you see?" Wilde asked again.

I folded my arms and sat back, zipping my lips. He raised his eyebrow. I replied, "I already told you."

"You're dodging from the facts." I cannot believe this man. He was not even there and he claimed to know that I'm a liar. I shake my head and look everywhere but at him.

"Please," he whispered suddenly with an edge in his voice. I looked at him, shocked. There was desperation in his eyes. "Please, I need you to tell me the truth."

I sat there slack-jawed, wondering what had just happened. And why is he pleading me, all of the sudden? His eyes flicked behind me when the door opened and his mouth formed a grim-line. I turned around in my seat and saw a man walk in. He was dressed casually and threw me a smile. Jarrod Wilde was ready to get up when the man gestured him to sit down. He took a seat next to Wilde.

"Good Morning," he greeted me. "My name is Harrison. I'm here to take in your account."

I frowned, "Isn't that why he is here?" I pointed at Jarrod. What was happening? I had never seen this man before.

"He is," Harrison glanced at Jarrod who cleared his throat and moved his chair a little further. "But so am I." That smile. It had something creepy about it, something unsettling. I nodded.