Shaun's neck twinged as he straightened from the couch. So she did break.

Surprised, he looked down on her for a moment, caught completely unguarded with a tightening in his chest over her pain. He pushed it away. This was no time to get personal. He had work to do, and he needed to remember he was an officer, involved in a murder investigation. Despite the familiarity and comfort of this home and these people, he could not get attached.

He caught Jess' aunt and uncle hovering at the doorway to the living room, and their faces helped him readjust to his task at hand. So this was the big secret. He sensed he was going to have a lot to report on, and they had only just seen the tip of the iceberg that was this family's history.

"Mr. and Mrs. Crampton, I would like to talk to you further about this, if I may. We need all the information we can get to figure out why she would do this. Time is crucial, since we have to find her still. Your help will be integral in that."

Jess' uncle gestured to the kitchen, and the two of them sat while Jess' aunt brought her some tea. Shaun could just make out the murmuring of voices behind him, and then the older woman creaked back across the floor back to the kitchen.

"I've given her some Valerian. She'll nap for a bit."

She settled her frame into the chair beside her husband, their hands folding into each other, both of them strained. At first glance, he had thought them to be well on their way to their seventies, but now that he could study their faces, he realized they were younger than that. Perhaps Early sixties? The same age as his parents, maybe.

"Son, you should call us Gertie and Kevin. Ain't no use in formalities now. You're in our business."

Shaun nodded, welcomed and chastised in one breath. He knew this was intensely personal, but also understood, with that allowance, that they would let him in. He grabbed his notebook from his chest pocket and flipped it open, clicking the well-chewed pen he kept tucked into the spine.

"Ok then, Gertie and Kevin it is. You can call me Shaun. I don't mind," he replied. "First of all, I need to get some names and relationships, that kind of thing."

For the next fifteen minutes, he wrote names, dates, situations, and relationships into his notes, along with their whereabouts for the past two days, just in case. When he looked up from his notebook, Gertie's face was crumpling from the strain of rehashing it all. He stopped writing. More could wait. He needed to call in to his Chief and get the identification set.

"Look, I've got to check in, let's take a break, and you can look in on Jess."

Gertie nodded and lifted herself up, the old wooden table in the kitchen creaking. Her husband stayed put on his chair, the furrows in his brow pronounced, the strain evident in his eyes.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," he mumbled, and put his head in his hands, his shoulders bunching up to his ears. Men like Kevin did not show weakness very much, and he excused himself quietly, to give him space.

He swiped his phone open and dialed his Chief, looking out the front window. Nothing seemed amiss. Snow was swirling, and he watched as it gathered in the corners of his trucks' windshield, and skittered across the gravel turnabout. As Vern answered, he took a breath.

Again, he had that funny feeling that this was just the beginning.

-----

Jess blinked and pushed herself up from the couch. It was dark outside, and the house was quiet except for the ticking of the clock. She startled as the phone rang, then looked towards the kitchen as the floor creaked. Her aunt moved across the entrance and picked up the wall unit.

"Hello?"

Jess rubbed groggily at her face. She had collapsed, and the officer had lifted her like she was a jumble of feathers, straight to the couch. The laser focus of his eyes had caught her off guard even as she was confused by everything else. She had originally thought them icy and cold, but they weren't mean.

She scratched at her half-undone ponytail, feeling crinkled and out of sorts from laying on the couch so long. Why had she collapsed?

"No, we have no comment at this time," her aunt shouted, followed by the clanging of the phone back onto the cradle.

She looked down at her hands and it hit her again. Her mother had just gunned down her father. Her mother, who was supposed to be dead. Her father who she hadn't seen in seventeen years. She took a deep breath and cracked her left shoulder with her right hand. Oh lordy, what a mess. Her heart quickened and she took another deep, long, cleansing breath, like she had learned from the EMT when he'd had to reset that shoulder after a bad fall around a barrel.

In, out. In, out.

"This is no time to get hysterical," she muttered into the living room emptiness. She was mortified she had fainted, since Jess Nichols never fainted. She could be elbow deep in blood castrating cows and she wouldn't be fazed. Muck and guck were part of the job when running a ranch.

Was this different, though?

She got up, and made her way to the kitchen. She wanted some answers, but from the sound of her aunt's voice, she wasn't the only one trying to understand, and perhaps hurting.

"Auntie?" she questioned as she reached the doorway. Her aunt was standing, gripping the edge of the sink, looking out the window towards the barns. Jess could see she'd been crying, and she wiped her eyes with her apron as she turned towards the sound of her niece's voice.

"Honey, sit down. I'll make you something to eat," she said hurriedly, smoothing out her apron, hiding the wrinkles.

"No way. You sit," Jess admonished, and opened the fridge, rummaging. "I can get it m'self. Take a break."

Her aunt didn't move, and Jess gestured to the table. "Sit Auntie. Please. Where's Uncle?"

Her aunt gestured out towards the barns. Jess looked at the clock. "Oh crap! Chores!" she swore, and put the plastic container of leftover chicken salad back in the fridge. "How long was I sleeping?"

"Never mind that, dear. That nice young officer is helping out. He's been asked to stay on with us in case... Well, in case she—"

Jess watched as her aunt rubbed her eyes wearily, stopping in mid sentence. She reached for her aunt, but the woman backed away a bit, turning to the stove, pulling a pan down off the rack.

"No dear, it's okay. Please, let me get you something to eat? I can make dinner then—" her aunt mumbled. Jess sensed she needed to keep busy, and was pleading as subtly as she could for Jess to not make a big deal out of it. Jess' aunt never begged or caved to anything. Not once in the time she'd been here. Jess blinked.

"Alright, alright. I'm going to get some fresh air. Are you sure you will be okay?"

Her aunt just nodded, a faraway look on her face. Jess knew there was going to be a long story to be told to her later, and that likely, her aunt and uncle had relived it once already with the Officer. What was his name? She frowned as she dressed and clunked through the door. Shane? Her head was still fuzzy.

As she made her way towards the square of light that was the large barn door, she could see her uncle, pulling out the water hose, and the officer separating flakes of hay into each of the stalls in front of him. He was wearing one of her uncle's old plaid quilted jackets, slightly too small overtop his Kevlar vest, and the gun on his hip jutted the tan fabric out, the sleeves pulling up to reveal the cuffs of his uniform jacket. She watched as he stopped and scratched the neck on Champ, and she stopped just short of the door following his hand as it scratched up, then down, then up again. Champ nodded his head in happiness for the attention, and lipped the front pocket of the overcoat, knowing full well that treats were usually stored there. She watched as a grin as big as the sky lit his face up, crinkling around his eyes. It was genuine. She liked it.

"He likes you," she said, alerting the two men to her presence. He turned and the smile dimmed.

"How are you, Jess?" he asked, his voice careful, and threw another flake into Champ's stall. As the rustling and snorting echoed around her, her pulse slowed, and her calmness returned.

"I'm much better, thanks. What's left?"

Her uncle strode past, and pointed to the wheeled hay cart, two bales of hay stacked. "Broodmares."

Jess wheeled out to the shed where the mares in foal were sheltered, and set to the comforting task of opening the bales and throwing the flakes into the paddock. She was aching in the oddest places, and she stretched her arms out as she threw each flake, relishing the pop in her shoulders as she did. Each flake arced out over the mare's backs, sending chaff in all directions, lazily falling through the air. The horses got busy bickering over which pile they wanted to start at, chasing each other until they began the ritual of pawing the flakes apart. The hay was everywhere, much like her thoughts as she tried to make sense of what had happened. Her mind whirled with all the questions still unanswered. Why did that woman do this? Was she dangerous? Would she come here? Why was her father so close by?

The biggest question dangled out in the crisp night air as she finished the last bale and gathered up the twine. Why had her aunt and uncle lied to her, kept all this from her for so long? She worried that the truth was something she didn't want to hear, because she loved these people so much, they were her parents. She didn't want to shatter that image. She was worried it already had.

She paused, watching the steam from the horse's breath mingle with the snorts and rustles as they settled into eating. She leaned on the fence, and one of the older mares came up, whuffing warm breath in her face, searching her for treats.

"Oh sweetie, what am I going to do?" she asked the horse, rubbing the fuzzed up black and white swirled forehead, before the mare turned back to rejoin her pasture mates.

She heard someone clear their throat behind her, and half turned to see the officer walking towards her, hands in his pockets, bunching the too-small winter coat up further. Chaff shook off as he walked, and he gave her a half smile as he joined her at the fence, leaning with one foot braced on the bottom rung. She turned back out to watch the mares, careful to avoid staring at him.

"So... Uhhh..." she prompted, wishing she could remember his name.

"Shaun," He offered without skipping a beat.

"Thanks. Shaun," She replied, relieved he'd understood. "I suppose we are in some danger now."

"There is a risk she'll come here, yes," he replied, leaning on the fence. "The media will be at your gate before morning which may dissuade her. There's more of a risk of one of those crazy photographers trying to climb through the fences to get a good photo for the front page. They've released the security camera footage of her to the news, and her name."

"Oh. Any luck?"

"We haven't found her yet," he answered, his voice grim.

"Christ!" she spit, turning to look at him, anger bubbling up. "We didn't want any of this, you know?"

He nodded, looking down at his hands. "I know. I'm to be relieved soon, going to go home and get some things, I'll be back tonight. I'm to stay with you folks until the fuss has died down, or—"

"She's found... Killed."

"Yeah," he replied, the quiet in his voice foreboding.

They looked at one another in awkward silence, the horses snorting through the hay happy sounds amid the unspoken stiffness of the reality they faced. Jess dropped her head into her hands and rubbed her face tiredly.

"Okay, okay," she muffled through her hands, the need to stay focused driving her. "What else do we need to do?"

"Kev— err... Your Uncle and I discussed security, he's put the cattle in the front field, he said. Something about a bull?"

Jess snorted, smiling involuntarily. "Yes, a bull. That would be Sunshine. He's our oldest breeding bull, and he's an asshole. Anyone tries to cross that field from the road, they'll get a what for."

She watched as Shaun's face split into that same grin he had when he was petting Champ, followed by a deep, very masculine laugh. It suited him to be so relaxed, the hard, chiseled planes of his face giving way to softness and something she couldn't quite place. He was handsome, and she caught herself grinning at him as they shared the implied joke. Their eyes caught and a spark of attraction pinged inside her.

Her smile disappeared as she mentally slammed the door. She was not allowed to smile, or laugh, or be attracted to anyone right now. Her father was dead and her only family had been lying to her. She had no time for humor or whatever else this was.

"Alright then. I'll unplug the phone too. Aunt will pick it up every time the damned thing rings and I know it will drive her mad," she clipped, turning and picking up the handles of the hay cart.

She kept her back to Shaun as they walked, wanting to put some distance between them, and the burst of attraction that was simmering. It wasn't something she wanted right now. Comfort would be nice, she thought for a brief moment, but she knew she had to stay strong, and letting a stranger in any more than she already had would be a mistake.