CHAPTER SEVEN
Sheriff Doug Harrison sat with his ham, scrambled eggs, and a mug full of coffee. Music played softly in the diner, loud enough to hear, but not so loud a person couldn’t hear themself think. And at that moment, that was all Harrison was doing— thinking. The Feds were on route to check out the bodies in the mine, and now Sam Trent was possibly missing. It was turning into a shitty week. Harrison had planned on going hunting with his boys over the weekend. But that wasn’t going to happen, not unless the Feds called Trent’s disappearance part of their investigation into the bodies. Then it became something a whole lot bigger— then it would be his problem.
He stuffed a fork full of eggs and ham into his mouth and chewed as he contemplated the events. He thought back to the cal
