Chapter two

Small towns could be strange places but this town was going for some sort of record. Agent Hill was sure Sheriff Nolan had been carrying a long sword when he'd arrived and Sheriff Swan had been completely ignoring his presence after he'd explained why he was here. He glanced around the Sheriff's station as the two sheriffs studied the summary file he had brought with him.

It was quaint and serviceable, not many personal items around, weirdly most of the technology looked like it had been bought in the nineties or eighties and never updated. Although that matched what he'd seen of the rest of the town, this was obviously one of those isolated small towns where time didn't move at the same pace as the rest of the world.

A quiet curse from Sheriff Nolan brought Hill out of his musing. The two sheriffs had laid the crime scene photos across the desk and were staring at them in shock. They definitely knew the deceased and from their reaction they most likely hadn't been involved in the murder, unless they were very good actors.

"So you can confirm that's him?" he asked unnecessarily.

Emma was frozen, staring at each photo as her dad laid them out in neat rows. Stupid stupid Emma, she thought viciously. Got through the last crisis did we? Checking random people at Granny's are alright but not your own boyfriend? God, she hadn't even got as far as thinking of their relationship that way and now he was gone.

Vaguely she heard David confirming Killian's identity, but it was like hearing people speaking through water. A couple of the group homes Emma had stayed in took the kids out to a public pool. They were always crowded and noisy. Emma used to sink to the bottom and gaze up at the broken lights through the surface and feel far removed from the muffled noises. It was always disappointing to be forced to return to the surface to gasp lungfuls of air.

What was David saying now? Something about whether or not Killian had any enemies in town? Emma could feel a giggle building in her chest, recognised it was hysteria and held her breath to prevent it escaping. Traitorous tears filled her eyes instead making her vision swim and blurring the photos. How could that be Killian? The man in the photos was slumped over like a broken doll leaning against a boat's hull. There was no swagger, no grace. As if that's how Captain Hook meets his end. All alone floating on some random boat.

"Emma," David's voice snapped her back to the present. "Sweetheart you've gone pale. Sit down. Don't look at them any more." He swept the photos up into the file and pushed her into a chair in almost one motion.

"I'm fine," She replied automatically.

"Well you shouldn't be," he replied gently, forcing her to look him in the eye. "Do you need a moment alone?" Emma stared at him and managed a nod, feeling grateful and understood. Her father literally pushed Agent Hill out the office door before he could comment on her reaction or David's use of the word sweetheart.

…..

"So," Hill said when they reached the street and Nolan had stopped pushing him along. "I take it you both knew Captain Jones well? Sheriff Swan better than most?"

Nolan gave him a glare before sighing deeply. "Yeah," he admitted. "You could say that."

"It's interesting because the only record I could find for him was an arrest and release without charge in New York, and you know who the plaintiff was? Emma Swan."

"I don't think interesting is the right word," Nolan replied severely. "I don't know anything about that, and the charges were dropped so I don't know what point you're trying to make. Look, I have to make some phone calls, can you see that dinner down the road? Granny's? I'll come meet you there in a few minutes."

Hill looked to where the other man pointed and saw a pretty dinner with an outside eating area near the end of the road.

"Sure," he confirmed. "But don't take too long. I have a lot of questions."

"I have no doubt about that," Nolan replied. Hill felt the sheriff's eyes on his back as he walked away.

The diner's bell tinkled as he entered and he gave the room what he hoped was a non threatening smile as the patrons all openly stared at him in silence. Hooray for small town stereotypes.

"You planning on staying?"

Hill turned in surprise towards the source of the demanding question and saw an older lady leaning on the counter next to him. "Well?" she asked. "I only have the one room ready at the moment so if you want it say now or forever hold your peace."

"Room?" Hill asked in confusion.

"You're not from town. This is an inn. Do you want a room?" she said slowly, her head tilted to the side both questioning and mocking him.

"Oh, right," he laughed. "That obvious am I?" she raised an eyebrow at him. The rest of the diner was still watching them in silence. "Right," he said in embarrassment. "Yes please Madam."

"Call me Granny," she said moving towards the back door presumably to another part of the building.

"Like the sign outside," Hill pointed out.

"Hey you don't miss a trick," Granny said sarcastically. "Some sort of detective are you?"

"FBI Special Agent actually," he corrected. Granny froze and turned to stare at him in surprise apparently lost for words.

"What do you want with our town?" came an accusing gruff shout. Hill was confronted by a short stocky man in denim who jumped off one of the bar stools in an attempt to get in his face.

"I'm here to find a murderer," he replied bluntly. The gruff man stepped back in surprise and blinked at him. "Not going to tell me this is a perfect little town and the people here couldn't possibly commit murder?" the agent challenged, internally scolding his confrontational nature. Great way to get the locals on your side Jack, he groaned at himself.

"We're not that kind of town," the gruff man murmured, exchanging a glance with Granny.

"Who was murdered?" she asked. Hill weighed up the pros and cons of divulging the details to a room of strangers and possible suspects. The sheriffs won't thank him, then again small town gossip would probably have everyone knowing by the afternoon anyway, maybe someone would give something away if he shocks them with information?

"It was a Captain Killian Jones," he declared, deciding to just go for it. The room instantly filled with concerned and excited muttering, no one made a sudden dash for the exits though.

"How do you know?" the gruff man demanded.

"I've just come from the sheriffs, they confirmed it was him."

"Oh Emma, that poor girl," Granny said softly. "I don't understand how you're here though. Did someone bring you in?"

"No, we found Captain Jones along the coast-" he tried to explain, starting to regret getting into the story in such an unprofessional way.

"But the ice wall," someone in a booth cut in.

"Ice wall?" Hill asked.

"Emma and Elsa took it down," Granny dismissed. Before Hill could ask what they were talking about the door jingled and David walked in, his frown growing deeper as he took in the tension in the room.

"So is it true? The pirate's really dead?" the gruff man demanded immediately.

"We don't have all the facts yet," Nolan replied, giving Hill a disapproving glare. "Agent Hill has only just arrived and the investigation is still very preliminary, but yes, it looks that way."

He spoke with an air of command and authority that was obviously respected by the townspeople in the diner. Hill added that information to the growing profile he'd started on the man in his head.

"Was it someone during the Shattered Sight?" a voice called out.

"As I said, we are only just starting the investigation," Nolan said his tone shutting down any further questions. "Agent Hill would you mind?" He gestured out the front door and then waved his hands at Granny in a series of signs to say he'd bring Hill back in a while and could she get the room ready for him. She just nodded silently in reply.

"Look I know what you're going to say..." Hill started once the door shut behind them.

"Oh good, because for a second there I thought you didn't realise you were about trigger mass paranoia and distress in my town," Nolan snapped. "What were you trying to achieve?"

"I thought I might get a reaction. Help gauge the locals impression of Jones and his murder."

"Well you've done that. I don't care who you work for. From now on, if you want to work this case you run everything through me. You don't talk to or investigate anyone in this town without me present understood?"

"Understood," Hill replied only just managing to keep the insolent tone from his voice. Nolan probably picked up on it anyway but chose to accept his statement without comment.

"Come on," he said instead. "I organised for the harbour master to talk to us."

"Sheriff Swan not joining us?" Hill asked as they walked across the road to where Hill could already see the ocean in the distance between the buildings.

"No. You were right before, despite how rude you were about it," Nolan sighed. "They were together. Emma and H- Killian. It hadn't been official for long. But they had..." The sheriff frowned and gave Hill and severe look deciding it wasn't his business. Hill nodded sympathetically and didn't push for more info. He may have a problem with authority and possibly a larger than average ego but that didn't mean he was devoid of empathy.

"So, what's this Shattered Sight thing?" he asked. The sheriff closed his eyes pressing his lips together in frustration.

"We've had a rough time of it in town recently. There was a lot of er...looting," he said, as he pointed at the nearby boarded up shop fronts. Broken glass and debris still lay scattered about, although some effort had been made to clear up.

"You catch the perps?" Hill asked.

"No," Nolan said though something gave Hill the impression the sheriff was holding back. "It was like the whole town went crazy for a while. Anyway, people started saying we were cursed and referred to the whole thing as Shattered Sight. Small town paranoia you know?"

"No, this town? But you all seem so open and welcoming," Hill snarked. Nolan gave him an unimpressed look.

"Hook used to hang out by these docks and as he was found on a boat, hopefully we'll get some answers here," he said.

"Hook?" Hill asked tilting his head at the sheriff.

"Oh that was just what we called him, you know like Captain Hook in the story," Nolan said slightly lamely, waving his left hand with his index finger curled.

"Right," Hill replied, not convinced at all.

There were chunks of ice floating in the water by the dock. Not like flakes that could have fallen off something refrigerated, but huge solid lumps you could stand on if you had enough balance.

"Wrong time of year for that isn't it?" Hill asked pointing at the ice. "It can't be that cold, surely?"

"Those are from the ice w-," the harbour master started to explain before Sheriff Nolan cut him off.

"Berg," he said loudly. "Iceberg. One of those huge rogue ones, like the one that took out the Titanic. Global warming huh? Blocked the harbour for a while. Did it come down this morning?" He asked the harbour master. Hill wondered about the ice wall comments he heard back at the dinner but kept his thoughts to himself.

"No, the ice… berg? It started melting pretty fast as soon as the curse ended Your Highness. There's no power strong enough to hold back the ocean," the man explained hesitantly.

The harbour master had an odd greyish complexion and eyes and mouth that were slightly too big for his face. The overall effect made made him resemble a giant walking trout.

"So Hook could have got a boat out of town anytime since yesterday afternoon?" Nolan suggested. The harbour master nodded and shrugged at the same time.

"Did you see Jones? Or anyone taking a boat out around then?" Hill asked.

"No sir," the man said regretfully. "I might have seen him around here during the curse but I wasn't all that focused on other people. After I came back to myself I went straight home to check on my wife. She was fine thank goodness."

"I'm glad to hear it," Nolan said smiling sincerely.

"Any idea whose boat this is? Or did you ever see Jones using it?" Hill asked, staying on task and ignoring all the curse talk for now. He held up his phone with a photo of the boat displayed. You could clearly see the boat's size and the name painted on the side. Bounty. Who named their boat something like that unless they were asking for trouble?

"No sir, sorry," the harbour master said shaking his head.

"It's not from here?" Hill asked looking at all the other similar boats waiting in their berths.

"It was here, yes," he answered.

"But you don't know who owns it or if Jones used it?" Hill replied sceptically.

"Lots of boats here," the man shrugged. "Not all of them belong to someone. Or it could be not all their owners are necessarily... in town." He glanced at Nolan as he said that and the sheriff gave the other man a tiny nod of approval.

"Really?" Hill demanded looking back and forth between them.

"We store a lot of boats here in the off season," Nolan cut in quickly. "I know we don't look like a tourist town but we get travellers coming through all the time. I'm afraid we don't really have a record of whose boat is whose." He turned back to the harbour master, dismissing the man before he let slip something that couldn't be explained away.

"Sure Your Highness, I hope I helped," he said obediently and left.

"Your Highness?" Hill asked.

"It's a town wide running joke. You should hear what we call our mayor."

…..