Free Paskagankee by Alan Leverone Page A

is—and who could blame them? From their perspective the people who were being paid to protect her from harm were the ones that killed her. The grandparents filed suit against the city for millions—a lawsuit which is still pending, by the way.
    â€œAfter that, the mayor’s office informed the chief it would probably be best if I just went away quietly, so I did.”
    Shari Dupont sat motionlessly, mouth agape, her face flushed with anger and her eyes flashing. Even from deep inside his personal hell, Mike thought her emotion made her look more beautiful than before, if that was possible. “You should have stayed and fought for your job,” she sputtered. “You did nothing wrong! They couldn’t just fire you for doing your damned job!”
    â€œYou’re not getting it,” he said, a faint smile crossing his face as he took in Shari’s reaction. “I wasn’t fired. They made a suggestion, one with which I agreed wholeheartedly, and I took it. I had been considering getting away for quite a while, trying something new, but my wife loved Revere and didn’t want to move. It was where she had grown up, where her family and friends were and still are.”
    â€œI didn’t know you were married,” Shari said in surprise.
    â€œFive years,” he answered. “But after the shooting things were never the same. There was so much negative publicity, so much pressure on both of us, none of which was her fault, she just couldn’t handle it. She left me four months later. I don’t blame her, really,” he said reflectively. “I wasn’t the same guy after that shooting.
    â€œAnyway, like I said, I had been wanting to do something different for a long time, I just wasn’t able to decide what it might be. I figured there was nothing holding me in Revere anymore, so when I read about the opening for chief here in Paskagankee, I decided to give it a shot. Little did I know the last guy to hold the job would want out so badly, I would be hired almost immediately. Now, here I am.”
    Mike breathed deeply. The temperature in the SUV was returning to normal for him, and the nausea he felt every time he thought about that horrible day in July sixteen months ago was beginning to ease.
    â€œThat’s quite a story,” Shari said quietly. “I remember seeing something about it on the news, even way down at the FBI Academy in Virginia, but I had no idea how horrifying the tragedy was.”
    â€œYou want to hear something funny?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the slick road. He still clutched the steering wheel with both hands like a drowning man holding a life preserver.
    â€œSure.”
    â€œThat night was the only time I ever fired my gun on duty. I drew it plenty of times, shot thousands of rounds at the practice range, but that was the one and only time I ever actually fired on someone. And I killed a little girl.”

10
    CAROLYN SCHERER POUNDED DOWN the narrow path carved out of the thick woods, barely noticing and not caring that the weather was steadily worsening, making the forest floor slippery and dangerous for running. Carolyn had fallen in love with the sport years ago, when doctors advised her she was grossly overweight, and if she didn’t begin exercising and slimming down, she could expect an early and exceedingly unpleasant death.
    Carolyn had started out cautiously, walking short distances at first and then increasing the lengths of those walks, discovering in the process that she loved being outdoors. After dropping enough weight to run safely, she began jogging, slowly and over short distances at first. Now she was hooked. Carolyn Scherer was officially a die-hard distance runner. Carolyn Scherer was not about to let a little unpleasant weather interfere with her daily routine.
    She had started out twenty minutes ago on her favorite route, which would take her from the back yard of her Mountain Road home,