Blood in the Ozarks

3. Beavers Bend

Twigs and foliage continued to crack under heavy foot as someone approached, unlikely coming from an experienced predator. Regardless, we stood our ground until a pair of large blue eyes framed by a soft, friendly face peered through the trees.

"Hold ya fire now. It's just me," came a voice with a thick Southern accent.

A tall blonde woman with a stocky frame entered the clearing with both of her hands up and her gun safely fastened in its holster. "I am come in peace," she joked—one she had probably been making for the last 30 years.

Ortega and I withdrew our weapons from the Sheriff, giving polite acknowledgements at her joke. At least on my part anyway.

With my gun once again holstered, I extended a hand to the woman. "You must be Sheriff Ullenhopp. I'm Agent Ross and this is," I paused for a moment unsure of how to address Ortega now that he was no longer an agent. "Tommy Ortega."

"Call me Sheriff Dinah. Everyone 'round here does." The woman gave me a firm shake as Ortega stuck out his own hand.

"Please call me Tom, ma'am." Ortega gave his best attempt at a Boy Scout smile, but the innocence didn't quite reach his eyes.

She beamed at him. "Nice to meet ya, Tom. I didn't know Agent Ross would be bringing back up."

He let her hand drop and swung his palm against my back and snaked it around my shoulder like we were best pals. "Shucks, Agent Ross can use all the help she can get. That right, Agent?"

I side-eyed his arm around me, and continued as if he wasn't making a fool of himself. The ass. "Typically we only bring in federal personnel to assist with cases. We like to keep as much of the work in house as possible due to the classified nature of what we work on."

I wanted to make Ortega squirm, if only for a moment. By law he really shouldn't be anywhere near this crime scene or any crime scene. He had his rights to investigate, but the up close view was all roped off by yellow tape.

"You some kinda wildlife expert?" Sheriff Dinah asked. "We've had quite a few animal attacks over the years, but never one that drew federal interest."

My lips remained sealed as I waited to see what Ortega would come up with. He was as much of a wildlife expert as I was fluent in Finnish.

"I'm no expert." He gave a chuckle then threw a wink at me. "But Agent Ross and I have seen our fair share of unruly creatures."

I loathed the smoothness of his response.

The sheriff turned to me with her soft blue eyes waiting for more explanation.

"He's an investigative consultant," I vouched almost unwillingly. "As Mr. Ortega mentioned while he's not a wildlife expert, he's here to give a second opinion on the investigation and has a background suited to this kind of work."

"Okie dokie then," Sheriff Dinah said, easily satisfied and never losing her effervescent attitude. "I don't know that you need much of a second opinion. Like I said we've had a number of animal attacks over the years. Never one as messy, sure. But had to be an animal."

Ortega's hushed voice beside me snickered, "Mr. Ortega."

I missed whatever Sheriff Dinah was saying as she turned her back to take the lead. This was like grade school all over again. Me, trying to follow the lesson as expected and some kid pestering me until I got mad enough to give him attention.

"...then we jus' need to head over to Beavers Bend. Odd name Beavers Bend since we ain't never had no beavers 'round here." She began to head back through the trees from the way she'd come, carrying on a whole conversation about beavers for her own benefit.

Ortega and I glanced at one another, surprised at the local law enforcement not giving us much flack. In my time with the bureau, I had met all kinds of locals—many of them not too happy about us showing up to steal their show. But even when they were amicable enough to work with us, none of them were as easy breezy as Sheriff Dinah.

The Sheriff interrupted her beaver talk for a moment to glance back at us. "Y'all comin'? Y'all wanna see the body, don't cha?"

I stepped ahead leaving Ortega to assume his role as my guest—a position I was sure he would not be found of, but it was the only way he was getting a front row seat to the roped off viewing of anything—especially bodies.