Greykin Mountain

| 44 | Sheriff Pete

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A smile clung to Jackson's face all the way back down the mountain. Things between him and Damon were fine; the Alpha didn't hate him, nor had he actually kicked him from the pack, and that made Jackson happier than he'd been in a while. He was sad about the fact he couldn't go back to the ruin with Damon, but at least he'd get to see him tomorrow.

          He made his way back into town and navigated the streets, searching for the sheriff's office. Hopefully, Pete would be able to help him continue his search; once he found out which species of demons had lived in Farrydare, he might be able to narrow down his list of suspects.

          But in his happiness, he'd let himself forget that someone had been following him. He stopped in his tracks as a cold shiver ran down his spine; he moved aside and out of the passing crowd's way, and cautiously looked up and down the street.

          Nobody looked suspicious. He did spot a few men in suits, but they were all heading up the road to the Emporium.

          Jackson took a deep breath and continued his trek. He remembered what Carlotta had said about taking Mawny Lane to avoid the Emporium, but he didn't feel the need to. So, he walked past the red-roofed building and to the very end of the street.

          He set his sights on the sheriff's office, which was attached to a large, white-brick police building. A few patrol cars were parked outside along with a patrol wagon and some snow speeders with sirens attached, and a few horses were hitched over by a small stable building, too. It looked like the police here were prepared for any sort of weather or chase, so how come Jackson hadn't seen any officers walking around town? He'd only seen the Emporium guards.

          Maybe it was because the Emporium had taken over most of the investigations in Farrydare.

          With a quiet sigh, he walked to the police station and headed inside.

          The place smelt like carpet cleaner, dust, and coffee. It wasn't as busy as Jackson had thought it might be, either. There weren't any people sitting in handcuffs or others waiting around to speak to someone. There was a policewoman behind the front desk; two other officers were waiting by the coffee machine for their drinks to pour, and another was selecting a can of soda from the vending machine.

          For a moment, he looked around to see if he could locate Pete, but when his eyes met those of the woman at the front desk, he smiled awkwardly and headed over.

          "Hi, uh...I was wondering if I could talk to Sheriff Pete?" he asked, resting his arms on the desk.

          She put her pen down and examined his face for a moment. "Do you have an appointment?"

          "Um...no. Can I make one?"

          "Reason?" she questioned as she turned in her chair to face her computer screen and started typing.

          "Carlotta said he might be able to help me. I'm looking for a friend who came through here."

          She stopped typing, glanced up at him, and then swivelled in her chair. "Are you a friend of Carlotta's? I've never seen you before."

          "Not exactly. We just met today, and she said that Pete could help me more than she could."

          "Hmm." She looked Jackson up and down again. "Right. Pete's in his office down the hall," she said, nodding to the corridor on Jackson's right. "Door at the very end."