Shepherds & Lambs

2.

After brewing a fresh pot of coffee, Grace set a cup for Agent Yaeger at the kitchen table, along with a decanter for cream and a bowl of sugar. For Agent Wolff, she placed a sealed bottle of water. Agent Yaeger sat at the table. Agent Wolff sauntered toward the table, stood behind the chair and waited until Grace sat before taking his place opposite her. She liked his chivalry. But she didn't like the way he eyed her. The slight arch of his brow and narrowed eyes connoted mistrust and indifference.

Gathered around the kitchen table, Agent Yaeger broke the silence. "I'm not assigned to this case, but without beating around the bush..." Grace thought it was a poor choice of words. Agent Yaeger continued, "The agency could use your help"—her tone remained maternal, the type that Grace resisted—"to help bring justice for your father."

Grace pursed her lips, refraining from smirking at the notion of justice for a man who was unmerciful. "Agent Wolff, you wasted your time coming all this way from San Francisco." She locked eyes with him. "I couldn't care less about him or this case."

Agent Wolff placed his elbows on the table, leaning in, and clasped his large hands. His broad shoulders looked menacing even while attempting to look relaxed. "We'd like for you to return to the Glen—"

"No!" Grace said, scowling at the audacity of his request. He didn't know her or Collin. Disgust made her lip curl. The heat of anger rose from her belly to her throat.

"I know this is asking too much," Agent Yaeger started.

"Do you?" she asked the woman before turning to Agent Wolff. "Do you really know that? Then why would you ask?" Grace glowered at him, ignoring Yaeger's feigned concern.

"We need access," he said, his hands in the air as if cupping her face, preparing to shake sense into her.

Grace sat back in the chair, placing the mug on the table. "Access?"

"Your father..." Agent Wolff shook his head, "...made it difficult for us to investigate his death."

Grace sighed. "He's dead. How does he have the power to make it difficult?"

"Your father's community is impossible to penetrate."

"Poor word choice, Agent." Grace narrowed her eyes. Blooms of scarlet rose up his clean-shaven neck to the tips of his ears. "I've never been part of the community, as you called it, so I don't know what I can do for you."

"Have you been contacted by Collin Shepherd's attorneys?" Agent Wolff asked.

Grace frowned, shaking her head. "It's been ten years since I've had contact with anyone from his world."

"I was told you were in communication with Jacob Webster—"

"Web." Grace placed her hand to her forehead, stroking her temples with her thumb and ring finger. She hadn't known Web's full name, confirming she wasn't knowledgeable enough to provide any information. "Yes...at times. Web would check in with me, but I haven't talked to him in..." She waved her hand in the air. "Almost a year."

"What sorts of things would you discuss?"

Grace shrugged. "He wanted to know how I was doing. How my academic work was coming along. My farm." She looked out the window. The rain still pattered against the glass. "I think he checked in so he could give Collin status updates. Ingratiate himself with him."

"Did Web have a good relationship with your father?" She couldn't help but note his use of the past tense. Web couldn't have murdered Collin. It wasn't in his nature.

"You think Web did it? You've already said he was traveling." Grace couldn't help but scowl. Either Agent Wolff thought she was stupid, or he was an unseasoned investigator.

Agent Yaeger leaned back, looking down at the pine floors, allowing him to take the lead.

Agent Wolff pursed his lips and nodded. "We're just trying to figure out suspects and motives."

Grace placed her fists on the table and lightly pounded one hand as she said, "Web worked for Collin for almost two decades. He was devoted. He's like a second father to me. If Web were around, he would've protected Collin at the expense of his own safety."

"Do you know Cordero Monteverde?"

With a quick shake of her head, Grace disavowed knowing him. The name was unique enough to remember if Web had ever mentioned him before, and he hadn't. "Is he a suspect?"

"He's your father's attorney. From what we've gathered, he's entrenched in the community."

Grace grimaced, knowing that everyone close to him would be part of the community. "And what does he have to say about Collin's death?"

"Not much. He says he'll allow us to investigate as much as the law allows but won't allow the Glen's first and fourteenth amendment rights to be infringed upon."

Grace sifted through her civics education to wonder if Agent Wolff meant "freedom of religion" or "peaceably assemble," but she didn't dare ask. "How do you know what was in his will?"

"We were able to obtain a copy of your father's last will and testament, filed in the county's probate court."

Grace gave a half shrug.

"He left you everything."

She sneered. "I only asked for one thing, and I'm sure he didn't leave that information in his will."

Agent Wolff looked at Agent Yaeger. She asked Grace, "What did you ask for?"

"He was supposed to leave me information about my biological mother. Was that in the will?"

"I don't think so. I can't recall seeing a codicil," Agent Wolff answered, looking solemn. When he started to say something, Agent Yaeger put her hand on his forearm, and he refrained from speaking. He reclined into the chair until Grace was prepared for more news.

Grace sat quietly, reflecting on her father's promise to reveal her mother's identity over his dead body. She assumed he'd leave her a letter with her mother's name, and possibly where to find her. "There was no information for me?" she asked again.

"The only thing registered with the court was the entire estate, the Glen. You're now the owner. I expect the estate attorney will be in contact soon. You're required to come forward to receive your gift."

A gift?

Grace shook her head. A tear ran down her cheek. She sniffed back the remaining tears. "No. I have no interest in returning to the Glen." She stood, the legs of her chair scraping as she pushed it with the backs of her knees. "Thank you for letting me know about his death. If you'll excuse me."

She walked behind her chair, shoving it in, bracing against the news of his death, knowing he would have never willingly given up information she'd been waiting twenty-eight years to learn, and mourning the loss of her mother forever. Her head hung low as the rain tapped furiously against the side of the house. It was fitting for the dark clouds, rumbling thunder, and fog to loom over her. Not only had her father been murdered, but along with his death and not knowing her mother's identity, she felt like an orphan.

Agent Wolff stood. "Dr. Shepherd. If you're seeking the identity of your mother, then I think we could assist you."

Grace peered up, staring deeply into his blue eyes; sincerity shone in them. But lurking behind the angelic beauty was a stark reality—Agent Wolff was on the hunt for a murderer, and Grace Shepherd would be the bait.