Chapter 2 - Cold Iron and Open Graves
Clara didn't flinch as she stepped out from behind the wooden partition, her hand resting firmly on the holster of her Glock 19. Her deputy badge caught the dying amber light. ""Step away from the kennel, Martha.""
Martha smoothed the front of her black cassock, displaying neither surprise nor panic. Instead, she offered the patient smile of a schoolmarm dealing with an unruly pupil. ""Deputy Vance. You trespass on sacred ground. The chapel oversees Blair's discipline under legal guardianship granted by the parish board.""
""Legal guardianship doesn't include caging a five-year-old like an animal in ninety-degree heat,"" Clara retorted, drawing her tactical shears to cut the heavy plastic zip-ties reinforcing the cage's latch. ""Step aside, or you’re under arrest for aggravated child endangerment.""
""I wouldn't touch that cage if I were you, Deputy,"" a gravelly voice echoed from the tree line.
Clara spun around. Father Timothy emerged from the oak canopy, accompanied by two hulking groundsmen armed with heavy steel shovels. Timothy held an unlit pipe, his face half-shadowed by a wide-brimmed felt hat. ""This town functions because everyone understands their place, Clara. Your father understood that before his unfortunate accident on the river.""
The mention of her father's suspicious death two years earlier made Clara’s pulse spike. ""You think you run this county?""
""The Sterling family abandoned that bastard child to our care four years ago,"" Timothy said softly, stepping closer. ""Her presence here is a debt being paid. Hand over the phone, Deputy. We will not ask twice.""
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Inside the crate, Blair whimpered, curling into a tight ball. Clara raised her left hand toward her radio, pressing the emergency collar mic. ""Dispatch, 10-99, officer requires immediate—""
A shovel blade sliced through the air, smashing into Clara’s shoulder. She slammed against the shed, her phone flying through the grass as the groundsmen swarmed her.
