XLII: It Catches Up with You

The sun had begun its lazy morning climb when Maggie and Laz rolled into Relay's commercial district. Her first time on a motorcycle had Lazuli clutching the purple haired driver harder than was necessary. If this bothered the other woman, she did not say.

They had spent the whole night pouring over records. Despite the lack of sleep, Laz had never felt so energized. She knew she was making a difference. They had uncovered a disturbing plot. Dr. Sképsis had purposely tried to harm one of his patients.

Their proof was overwhelming. The altered documentation, timeline of events, and lack of other viable suspects left little doubt in her mind. The deputy had been trying to play devil's advocate, saying that there could be other explanations. But even she was having a hard time defending the man.

There was also the question of who else was involved. They both thought that Raúl was likely not complicit. The patient log confirmed that he had spent most of his time around Razz when inside the building. He lacked the opportunity to make the alterations.

On the other hand, the doctor had been left alone for long stretches of time. Interestingly, the security camera had caught him stumbling out of the clinic early the next morning. He seemingly had spent the whole night in his office. The pen and paper sign out form, meanwhile, said he left hours earlier.

Why else would there be a discrepancy unless he had something to hide?

Then there was the uncomfortable question surrounding Deputy Drwg. Why was he so sure that Razz had died? The message that had been sent out had only indicated that the injured volunteer was in critical condition. It was as though Drwg had expected a fatal result. In other words, he had foreknowledge.

There was no telling how deep the conspiracy went. Perhaps the sheriff knew as well. Everyone in Tocsin knew that Drwg was his errand boy.

Maggie was uncomfortable accusing her co-workers. She did agree that they needed to get to the bottom of it. With all their immediate leads gathered, they planned to confront the doctor to learn more. To do so, they first needed to open an official inquiry.

Laz was nervous. The second lieutenant had only been to the Sheriff's Office a few times in the past. They occasionally used the public shooting range to train. Every time she had been inside, it was with others from the community. This would be the first time she had gone in by herself.

She became more anxious as the station came in sight. Something was going on outside. Maggie guided the bike to a stop at a junction but left the engine rumbling. The two leaned over to get a better look.

Out front stood a large collection of people. They were in the streets, crowded around the nearby bakery. Many of them were armed.

"I do not care for this at all."

Neither did Laz. Maggie hopped out of her seat and went to the back of the motorcycle. A clunk from behind let it be known that she was opening the trunk. Soon after, she returned with a bundle in her hands.

"Here. Wear this."

Maggie handed over a jacket. The grey item matched the one she was currently wearing. It only lacked the badge on the outer pocket.

Laz shyly took the clothing. "But I'm not cold."

She followed the deputy's pointed look. The other woman was staring at her arms left bare by the blue dress. Specifically, she was critiquing the dark stripes that crisscrossed them. The sign of Laz's heritage.

"You want me to hide what I am." Hurt seeped into her voice.

The thought had occurred to her once or twice in her youth. Back then, she had tried going to a trade school in Vale. The discolorations were much easier to hide than horns or a tail. Long sleeves would have been enough for her to pass as human.

"You won't get far otherwise."

"There aren't any other faunus?"

"Not that I know of." She shook her head. "Even if we do not have an explicit ban, you will definitely stand out. Questions will get asked. Some might even identify you from the Battle at the Crossroads."

Lavender had been able to recognize the militia member on sight. Admittedly, Lazuli only had contact with the furious human because she had treated Razz's injuries. There was no telling how many other volunteers had gotten just as good of a look. The more attention placed on her, the more likely she would be noticed.

"It's just…" She trailed off.

She had a hard time explaining the demeaning nature of the gesture. This was not as simple as wearing a hat to hide hair color, even if the mechanics were similar. This was an erasure of an identity. All to appease another group's prejudice.

"If you don't want to, I understand."

"Really?"

"I will not force you." Maggie nodded. "Stay out here if you need to or head back to Tocsin. Personally, I would rather you stay. Your assistance has been invaluable."

The choice was hers. How much was her pride worth? Would she rather be in there where she could help? Or out here where she could not?

She sighed as she slipped on the jacket. Fighting corruption was worth her temporary discomfort. This was why she had joined the militia in the first place. To serve an ideal higher than herself. Walking away was not an option.

The deputy gave a pat on the shoulder as she returned to the driver's seat. Shame filled Laz as they started again. Many waved at them as they drove by, happy to see Deputy Mae had arrived.

Craning her head to the side, Laz could see that the bakery had been devastated. It looked like a tornado had rolled through. The entire front had been caved in. The owner of the establishment hung her head as she spoke with several men outside.

As they rounded the building, they approached the garage. All the bay doors were open. A navy van was parked with its nose poking out of the second door. They stopped next to it and both descended from the bike. People greeted them as they were ushered within.

Inside the main building, there were even more humans. They packed the hallways around makeshift tables. What had been a lively discussion paused temporarily to observe the newest entrants. Then, multiple voices assaulted them on all sides. Laz could only pick out a few strands of conversations.

"Maggie! We need your help-"

"No. We need you to-"

"What about Cyan! She-"

The deputy did not yell to get their attention. She did not need to. Rather, she held up a single hand. A hush befell them. Their movements stilled as they watched her. To force them to stay that way, she began with a soft yet crisp voice.

"This has been a trying time, but we must keep our heads. You are representing Relay. Act like it." Many straightened their posture at the reminder. "Please wrap up your current assignments and meet me in the conference room in fifteen minutes. I will field your requests then."

Dismissed, the crowd contracted in on itself. Murmurs and hushed tones rang out as they all hurried to get their affairs in order. While this happened, Maggie ushered Lazuli to the side so they could talk. The militia member was the first to ask.

"Do you know what is going on?"

"No. I assume I will figure it out as we go."

A franker answer than Laz had been expecting. She guessed that was what being in charge often demanded. Pretending to be 'in the know' even when they often were not. Otherwise, Maggie would just be adding to the confusion.

"I may need to put our investigation on hold for a bit. At least until I can figure out what is going on here." She then quickly added. "That said, I have an important role for you. The van we saw on the way in belongs to the Medical Examiner's Office."

Laz remembered the vehicle. They had used it to transport Cobalt from the beach. That meant a particular professional was nearby.

"Sképsis is here?"

"Without a doubt." She gestured for Lazuli to come closer before whispering. "And I do not like that fact. Not anymore. Find and keep an eye on him."

Maggie touched the laminated card hanging around Laz's neck. She nodded in understanding. As a volunteer, she could go anywhere in the Sheriff's Office.

The hidden faunus stepped back. Maggie was swept away by a tide of humanity. They all appeared to be heading for a glass enclosed area with chairs. This gave Lazuli permission to move through the office with no supervision.

Figuring that the doctor would be near the van, she headed for the garage. Across the opened carport, the area was also free from others. She crept up to the vehicle. The back doors were closed, making her stand on her toes to see within.

Condensation on the outside windows assured her that the contents were refrigerated. She had to wipe some of it away before leaning in. Every surface inside was polished chrome. Metal cubbies on the sides contained instruments, packaging, and various bottles filled with fluids. In the center were two stretchers side by side.

Otherwise, it was empty. She bit her lip while wondering where the doctor could have gone. This was answered by the clearing of a throat behind her. Startled, Laz whipped around to the befuddled ME of Relay.

"Excuse me, but what are you doing?"

The man wore a white jumpsuit that was zipped halfway up. His face was reddened while lather rolled down his cheeks. Under each arm were black handbags that jingled with each movement.

"Oh! I was sent to assist you." She reached for one of his burdens. "Allow me."

He let her take one with little resistance. Dr. Sképsis was too dog-tired to question her presence. If anything, he appeared surprisingly relieved.

"Ah." He pulled a handkerchief from his shirt pocket to wipe at his brows. "I thought I would have to do this all by myself. My usual aide is not answering my summons."

Probably because Raúl had been threatened with charges of aiding and abetting if he tried to interfere in their investigation. The medical assistant must have taken that to mean he could not talk to the doctor at all. A lucky break for Laz.

"Then I arrived just in time. Point me where you need me."

"Good." He stepped up to the van doors and opened them. "Tell me dear, are you squeamish around blood and cadavers?"

Laz answered honestly, if hesitantly. "No sir. I've seen my fair share of them in the triage tents."

"Tent?" The doctor off-handedly questioned as he dug through one of the cubbyholes.

She cringed at the mental slip. Relay did not need to use mobile medical transports. They could afford to have a permanent location for their wounded. Tocsin did not have such facilities.

"I was an orderly for the Atlesian military." She crossed her fingers hoping the lie was believable.

"How serendipitous." He tossed a roll of white at her. "Put that on. We have a long afternoon ahead of us."

Unfurling the fabric revealed it to be another jumpsuit. "Right."

As she complied, Laz knew he was right. This was going to take a while. She buried her objections and dressed in her newest disguise.

〇-〇-〇

"You have the capacity to learn. But remember, knowledge alone will only take you so far." Headmaster Ozpin flourished to the imagined audience with his hands. "It is up to you to take the first step."

Finished with his prepared remarks, he let the silence linger. He learned early of the power of the pregnant pause. To let the full weight of the spoken word settle in for maximum impact. After counting down from ten, he gestured to the other person in the temporary office.

"Any suggestions, Leo?"

"The speech is perfect." The deputy headmaster opined. "It strikes the proper solemn tone. I, for one, would pause before undertaking our initiation."

Ozpin thank the man, despite his frustrations. He wanted feedback. Instead, he got empty platitudes. If Lionheart had a failing as an administrator, it was his lack of originality. The incoming freshman needed to understand that the path to becoming a huntsman was fraught with challenge and risk.

"I have one." Called a voice from the back. Searching for it yielded Qrow Branwen leaning against a far wall. "Could you try not sounding like a stuffy headmaster with a big ole stick up his butt?"

The Beacon head sighed. Maybe he should have been more precise in his terminology. He wanted constructive feedback. Regardless, he smiled at the appearance of his former student. The change of pace was appreciated.

"Well, I am a stuffy headmaster and I do have a rather large-"

"Sir!" Leo objected, scandalized at their manner of speaking to each other.

"But I'll take that under advisement." Ozpin continued before turning to Lionheart. "We can continue this later."

"If you are sure…"

"Take five, tiger. I'll give your boss back after a quick word."

Leonardo grunted as Qrow pushed past him. He struggled to hold his tongue. The issue was not so much at the teasing tone but at the overall disrespect. The faunus was not used to being dismissed so easily.

After a nod from the headmaster confirming that he should go, Leo walked away. To show his displeasure, he slammed the door. This only caused Qrow to laugh at his irritated state.

"Must you, though?"

"He'll be fine."

"Are you?"

Ozpin gestured to Qrow's distressing state of being. He was bruised, capeless, and collared. While that might have been a typical weeknight for him, the older man was used to the huntsman at least cleaning up afterwards.

"Yeah. Sorry. Had a helluva time out there."

"I am not sure I need the details."

"Trust me, you will want to hear this."

They settled around a desk that had been brought down by the custodial staff. The work area was a temporary measure while his office was remodeled. Despite only having been brought down a week ago, it was already cluttered with half scribbled notes, pens, and empty cups.

Reaching over the mess, Ozpin's hands passed over a pitcher. He had just brewed a fresh pot. His first of the day. He poured himself a cup before pointing to his guest.

"Coco?'

"Why not." Qrow accepted another saucer and took a sip. "Ugh. How can you drink this? My teeth are staging a revolt against the sugar."

"It helps that these are the only kinds of sweets I indulge."

There were also sentimental reasons. The recipe had been created by his wife. Their children could never get enough when she mixed it for them on cold days. Sometimes he could drink and fool himself into thinking they were still with him.

Qrow decided to defile that memory by bringing out his flask and emptying a fair amount of its contents into the cup. He took another sip before adding more. Satisfied at his alcohol to chocolate ratio, he guzzled earnestly.

"Isn't it too early to start drinking?"

"Never went to bed. This is my nightcap."

The weak excuse elicited a frown. This was not lost on Qrow, who set the cup down. The headmaster pushed the possible alcoholism aside for the moment to refocus the conversation.

"What did we need to discuss?"

"Right. As you know, I have been down in Relay having a short vacation-"

"No. Actually. I did not know that."

"Wha- but I left you a message with the wall guards!"

"Well, I did not receive anything of the sort. Your mail must have gotten lost in transit." The older man's eyebrows drew together in disappointment. "Meanwhile, I have been here, worried and unsure if you were dead or alive. The only company I've had are VPD demanding I turn you over to them."

Qrow flinched. "Oops?"

"If only there were another way for you to get in touch with me. Some kind of... communications doodad with a personalized number. Alas, such a thing is purely hypothetical."

"My Scroll was stolen." He scratched his arm nervously. "I got a new one but I, uh, got busy. Then that one was smashed."

"Quite unfortunate."

He cleared his throat. "Anyways, I found out who was impersonating me. They got themselves killed before I could question them though. Need to figure out another angle to clear my name."

How he phrased the chain of events made it sound like Qrow had not been the one to deliver the death blow. Not an unexpected outcome. Someone who was brazen enough to rob a military depot was not destined to live very long.

"Well, I would not worry too much about that. The police cleared you."

"They finally realized how idiotic it was to suspect me?"

"Oh no. They were still chomping at the bit to see you in chains. However, they made a series of arrests recently. The stolen weapons were found in the possession of a local gang who promptly turned on each other for reduced sentences."

The way they were captured, found tied up outside a warehouse with the stolen crates in plain sight, made Ozpin suspect Qrow was involved. The police were being tight lipped about the whole affair. Instead, they were praising the actions of an unidentified officer.

"I guess that means I don't have to sneak around the city anymore."

"Quite. Now, if that was all, I do have other matters to attend to."

Beacon's next initiation was only a few months away. There were mountains of transcripts, recommendations, and combat records to comb through. Not to mention graduation for the fourth-year students.

Plenty to keep him busy for a few lifetimes.

"There's more." Ozpin frowned. "During my pseudo-exile, I happened across a smuggling ring. A source of mine told me all about how Relay's sheriff has been laundering money to build himself a small fiefdom."

The subject of Relay had come up at the last few Council meetings. After Mountain Glenn, most had given up on the idea of a second city within Vale's borders. There was now excitement over the growing settlement. To learn that was a lie was disturbing.

"I take it you have already verified your information."

"It's good. I did a bit of scouting beforehand of the complex they are using. No one was around, but I am confident they are up to no good. It is a huge scheme. I'll need support to make sure that no one escapes."

"How many?"

"A small strike force should do. Me and a few others."

"That should be easy to arrange. I know of some officers who are also investigating smugglers."

"Really now." Qrow scooted closer in his chair. "Tell me more."

Over the next half hour, Ozpin narrated the story of a series of murders that had brought two policemen to Beacon. That led to the discovery of hidden Bullhead compartments filled with contraband. Thanks to Peter's efforts earlier that morning, they now had photographic evidence.

"You can see why I believe there might be a connection."

"Two big time operations right under our noses? Nuh-uh. That can't be a fluke."

"I agree." The headmaster began digging through a stack of papers. "Let me get those officer's names for you. I wrote them down on a notepad so I would not forget."

"This one?" Qrow handed over a yellow loose leaf.

"Thank you."

Ozpin flipped through the booklet to find the proper entry. As he was, Qrow was studying a few unrelated forms. When the older man looked up with the answer, the red eyed one had found a draft of a job offer letter for next semester.

"Dr. Bartholomew Oobleck." Qrow murmured as he scratched his chin before his eyes widened in recognition. "You are hiring Black Bart."

Sensing they were about to go off topic, Ozpin placed the notes in his lap before responding. "He is highly qualified."

"He's a nut!" Fist met table for emphasis. "I once saw him kill a Nevermore with a thermos."

Admittedly, there were a few eccentricities to Dr. Oobleck's personality. His pep was legendary. Not many could keep up with his gusto while exploring ancient ruins. It was what had led to his doctorate in comparative civilizations.

Plus, the Branwen had his own quirks. "You use a scythe."

"My weapon is practical. Elegant. Most of all, I can't drink soup out of it!"

"Regardless, I am not hiring him to hunt. I am hiring him to teach history." He took off his glasses to clean them. "If you feel so strongly, maybe you could do better?"

"What? Teach? When is the last time you saw me crack a book?"

"Not that. Help me vet qualified candidates." Ozpin returned the spectacles to his nose. "For your information, Leo will be leaving soon to take up a post as Haven's headmaster. Because of that I will need a new deputy."

"If you want me to name some names-"

"You know that is not what I am asking."

The pair stared at each other. Red eyes narrowed at the sweet drinker. Ozpin, for his part, waited for a response. He got it when Qrow sank in his chair.

"Geez, Oz. Not this again."

"You're not getting any younger. Almost everyone else in your cohort has settled down."

The prime of a huntsman career was their early twenties. Most retired once they hit thirty to become parents, teachers, or to join a kingdom's defensive network. This allowed them to continue to contribute to society.

Qrow was unusual in how long he had stayed as a front-line fighter against the Grimm. Considering his other job as Ozpin's eyes and ears for what was happening beyond Vale's borders, it was a miracle he was still going strong. Given the huntsman's Semblance, the headmaster did not want to keep pushing his luck.

"Ah, the dreaded 'why haven't you given me grandchildren' speech. I thought I would get to skip this cliché. Not having parents should come with some advantages."

"Afraid not." He chuckled, even if this was no laughing matter. "It's not too late to start planning for the future. I cannot think of anyone I'd rather have as my next deputy."

"I have zero organizational skills."

"You think Leo did before he started? That I did? You will learn."

"I'm telling you. It's not me."

"How about a role as a combat instructor?"

There were many positions Qrow could be plugged into. Survival, scouting, tactical thinking. Ozpin could make one up if he needed to. Being in charge had its perks.

"What about the war? Who will keep the pressure up with me on the sidelines?"

Ozpin could not help but roll his eyes. "I had other agents before you."

"Like Maria? Like Summer? How did that work out for them?"

Of course Qrow would bring them into this. His mentor and his teammate. Both paid a price for their association with Ozpin. Their tragedies still haunted the two men.

"That's uncalled for."

"But it's true, ain't it? We both know I can carry the weight. Can you say the same of who you'd have succeed me?"

"Amber's training is coming along quite well."

"She's still a kid."

So were you.

Ozpin kept the retort in. There was nothing to be gained by dragging that old disagreement up. He needed to turn down the temperature before one of them voiced thoughts that could not be taken back.

"There is no need for a decision now. Just promise me you will think about it." He brought back the notepad before deciding to rip the page out. "Here are those officers' information. Do you need me to set up a meeting?"

"I can make my own playdates, thanks." Qrow took the slip of paper. "Shoat, huh?"

"Do you know him?"

"Yeah. The deeper I go, the more this is all starting to look like a big joke at my expense." His defeated tenor caused Ozpin to worry. "A lot has happened that I'm still trying to get my head around."

"I'm all ears."

"Who's the spymaster here? You should focus on the school."

"Very well."

The two men stood and shook hands. Qrow wobbled a bit as he bent over the desk. He tried to hide the shakes by leaning on the furniture, but Ozpin noticed.

"See our doctor before you go." He left no room for argument.

Just because Aura accelerated healing did not mean it would protect against infections and other issues. Ozpin had lost many promising students and huntsmen to overconfidence. They were not as invincible as they believed themselves to be.

Then again, the headmaster wondered if Qrow was counting on it. There was a thin line between inspiring and suicidal. The Branwen loved to straddle the boundary.

"Can do." He saluted.

"Oh, and I'll see to it that Leo gets you a new Scroll."

"Heh. You think of everything, don't you?"

"If only that were true." He whispered as Qrow left him behind.

〇-〇-〇

The Relay Sheriff's Office had been undergoing a massive makeover long before Maggie had joined. Originally little more than an air-conditioned shack, recent additions had added many amenities. These included expanded office space, a kitchen, a garage, and an indoor shooting range.

One area that had remained unchanged were the absence of long-term detention facilities. There were few occasions where they needed to detain someone. Serious crimes tended to be committed by out-of-towners who could be shipped off to Vale for processing.

Space had to be made to account for the current situation. To do so, they had opted to convert an interrogation room to hold their prisoner. At the metal table in the center of the room sat Cyan Roscoe. Her eyes were closed while in a thinking pose.

When Maggie entered the observation room, she felt relief when she saw that Cyan's hands were not cuffed. If the junior deputy had not known otherwise, she would have thought Cyan was catching a nap while hiding from nosy volunteers.

Instead, she was a suspect in a triple murder.

What Maggie had been able to gather from the frantic reports was limited. A message had gone out alerting everyone that Cyan was being attacked. Responders had found two fatalities in the city plaza. Later, after another call from Cyan, another corpse was located inside Betty's store.

The notes from the initial questioning painted a thrilling scene. Cyan claimed that Qrow Branwen had been assaulted by a huntress with two accomplices. She had shot the two she identified as Kahlua and Tiny. Branwen had taken care of Cordelia, the huntress.

If true, this signified a justifiable use of force.

However, some details did not fit the narrative. No weapons were found near the clocktower except for a pistol registered to Deputy Roscoe. A blade was retrieved from the woman in the bakery, but some thought that it might have been the murder weapon. Cordelia, if that was her real name, had been stabbed through the chest.

Cyan had also admitted that they had encountered the group earlier in the day. Kahlua and Tiny had threateningly approached them in an alleyway over a grievance with the huntsman. For some reason, Cyan had allowed the two suspects to leave. Branwen was nowhere to be found to corroborate.

That made three suspicious deaths with nothing to verify Cyan's story. All these inconsistencies had led to the sheriff making the arrest. Maggie could not blame him. This was all starting to resemble a dubious deal gone wrong.

"And she refused to say anything else?" She asked her boss.

A two-way mirror separated them from Cyan. She could not hear them. Even still, Maggie asked in a hush. Wendeval had no such compulsion.

"She has been most uncooperative." He boomed, startling the others who occupied the room along with them. "Clammed up as soon as I showed her this."

He passed her his Scroll. On the screen was an olive skinned male. Deceased. Two prominent bullet wounds stood out on the body. One in the torso and one in the forehead.

The brutal display made her fingers numb. Discipline allowed her to hold on. This would be hard to pass off as self-defense. No one was trained to aim for the head.

"Could this have been an accident?"

"You've seen Deputy Roscoe on the range."

Maggie could not argue against the implications. Cyan was a natural crack shot. With little advanced training nor any Aura, she was able to keep up with an ex-Specialist. She hit whatever she aimed for.

This had been an execution.

"...I cannot believe she would do something like this."

"Maybe there are extenuating circumstances." The sheriff allowed with a tint of annoyance. "We will know more after Dr. Sképsis completes his review."

Then there was that matter of concern. Maggie had not forgotten, but the problem had become muted once she had arrived. The current emergency had taken precedence. With both issues now entwined, she could no longer ignore the subject.

"Sir. I have serious reservations about the doctor. He has demonstrated a shocking amount of incompetence-"

Wendeval hissed to get her to stop talking. The volunteers looked their way. He eyed them before they hurriedly resumed their observation. Knowing that this was a delicate conversation, she led him out of the room.

This was more for her convenience than his. She was afraid she would start yelling if they started in an open space. The two eventually ended up in her office behind a shut door. That was when he spoke.

"Now, what on Remnant are you talking about?"

She proceeded to inform him of her investigation into Razz Barrett's health problems. Specifically, how the doctor's care contributed to a near fatal incident. She ran down how his actions before the event straddled the line between negligence and premeditation. When she finished, there was a noticeable grimace on his face.

"What would you have me do, Mae?" He ran fingers over his scruff. "He is the only medical examiner we have."

"We could call Vale for a consultation."

"That could take days to sort out!" He hollered.

"Better time lost to delay rather than incompetence!" She matched.

He turned his back to her. His shoulders were rigid. Not facing her while he spoke gave the impression he was addressing the wall.

"Your issue is with how he treats living patients, correct?" She nodded. "Well, there are none in this case. Let us have a formal inquiry later. For now, he will be too focused on the pile of bodies at our doorstep."

"We cannot overlook this. If there is more to the mistreatment than neglect, then that could poison his findings in a court of law."

They needed to be sure of Cyan's guilt. If she was a killer, then she needed to go to jail. That was not up for debate. However, if she were innocent, Maggie would not idly watch as her mentor was unjustly imprisoned.

The sheriff did not agree. His shoulders remained hunched. He remained in a tense state for a few moments before he let out a loud sigh. When he turned back to her, resignation ruled his face.

"You're right." She basked in his judgement. "I'll see what I can do. It might take a few days to find a suitable replacement though. Are you alright with him conducting the preliminaries?"

"...Yes sir."

She was not. However, she recognized the tough spot Wendeval was in. As long as the doctor did not perform the autopsies, then there was less of a chance for malpractice. Maggie also had an inside woman to help keep the ME on the straight and narrow.

That would have to be enough.

"I have to say, deputy. I'm impressed with your tenacity. This could have been a big problem if you had not detected it first."

"I was simply performing my duty."

He reached for his lapel and unhooked his badge. "As am I."

Wendeval's arm reached out to her. Confused, Maggie held her hand out. He dropped the five-pointed emblem of his office into her palm.

"Sir?"

"I told you before that you were my first choice as replacement. Now I am surer than ever." Her head buzzed at the sudden change. "I will send out an announcement as soon as I return to my office, but from now on you shall be referred to as Sheriff Mae."

"I-What?"

"Of course, I shall continue on as acting sheriff until my mayorship is established. Don't want to throw you into the deep end before you are ready." He grinned and patted her shoulder. "Big things are in our future, as long as we all continue to act as team players."

She was stunned silent. Still staring at the badge in her hand, she did not notice he was excusing himself. As she caught on, he had already slipped through the doorway.

"Congratulations. Sheriff Mae."

Maggie could not believe those words. Even after he had left, she was still in a daze. This was a most unexpected development.

While Wendeval had mentioned the possibility before, she was used to his promises not amounting to anything. With the emblem in her possession, there was no way he could go back on his word. Otherwise, he would look foolish.

As concerned as he was with appearances, he would never allow that.

The former Specialist never dreamed she would be in a position of leadership. After her ill-fated tenure in Ace-Ops, she had committed to turning over a new leaf. Now she was thrust back into the spotlight.

There were many things she could do differently now. She thought up plans and contingencies for her transition. Wanting to write down her ideas before she forgot them, she hurriedly pulled out her chair to sit down at the desk.

A sharp sting in her rear had her standing right back up. Her hand fell to her upper thigh to rub at the lingering pain. She said a silent thanks that no one was around to see her undignified reaction before turning around to see what she had sat on.

In the chair was the rifle she had confiscated from a volunteer after the confrontation with the militia. The clear bag that covered the weapon did little to blunt the frame. Maggie gazed at the bag with uncertainty. She thought she had taken the evidence down to the lockup the day before.

Clearly, she had not.

The red tape seal was intact, meaning the chain of ownership had been maintained. Still, she would need to make sure to note that it had been left alone in her locked office. Transparency was important, even if they were unlikely to make an arrest related to the rifle.

Pen in hand, she prepared to make an addition to the label. The newly minted sheriff paused when she focused on the adhesive tag. The handwriting was different. Less precise than her own but still legible.

In the right hand most column, the one for signatures, Maggie's own was missing. Instead there were two letters. Initials.

C.R.

The recorded time of seizure was around the previous afternoon. A small note asserted that the rifle had been confiscated outside Good Vibrations from woman who answered to the name Kahlua. It also stated the gun could be returned to the owner after an analysis by the quartermaster.

In Maggie's hands was confirmation of a part of Cyan's account. She really had been threatened by the group. Or at least by Kahlua.

What vexed Maggie was that the rifle in front of her could have been a twin of the one down in the vault. The similarities were too coincidental. Confirming her suspicion, the serial number was an increment of the other one.

They were of the same batch. Another firearm from the crate that had purportedly been bought from SWORD. That meant that this gun was also Sheriff's Office property.

But then, how did it end up in the hands of a criminal? Despite Wendeval's explanation, she did not believe that these guns were purchased legally. This was even more corroboration.

Her boss wanted her to be a 'team player.' Was he trying to buy her silence with the sheriff appointment? Before, when the promotion was brought up in response to her discovery of the Arma shipment, she had rationalized that was not what he meant. Now she was not so sure.

The badge burned in her hand.

Disgusted, she opened a drawer and threw the star in. The sign of advancement glimmered back in betrayal. With an emphatic slam, she closed the bin. If Maggie was going to be the sheriff, she was going to do it her own way. By maintaining fidelity to duty and integrity.

She would seek the truth, no matter where it led.

Chapter Next: Steal My Sunshine