It was time to play hardball with Officer Jonah.

“As I said before, I’m here to pick up my filming permits. And I’m not leaving until someone in this town can actually help me.” She was guessing he hadn’t heard her the first few times over the sound of mayo dripping down his chin.

Officer Jonah chewed on his hoagie for a while, chewed on it some more, and made a few thinking noises that left her wanting to stuff what was left of the sandwich in his face. Then he scratched the back of his head.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m pretty sure you have to go to the city hall for that.”

River braced her hands on her hips. “The city hall, huh?”

“Yep.”

“So you’re assuming I’m stupid.”

Intelligent eyes glanced at her, a man caught in the act of being sneaky.

“Go ahead,” she encouraged him. “Mansplain it for me. I couldn’t possibly have known that was the place to go to get a permit, but I’m sure glad you’re helpful enough to set me straight.”

River could hear her drawl coming out, dripping with sarcasm, and she didn’t bother to try to hide it. “Or I could save you some time and tell you that so far, myself and my people have spent countless hours on hold with a city hall that doesn’t actually exist.”

River continued in a firm voice. “Did you know that the address for the Moose Springs City Hall is very hard to find? Hard enough that I had to call the state government and stay on hold with them before somebody finally came up with the address to a barn on the far side of town, with weeds literally as tall as I am. But if you fight through the weeds, you find a sign on the door that says Be Back in Ten. Do you want to hazard a guess as to who came back in ten?”

The deputy policewoman one desk over shared an amused look with Officer Jonah. He wiped a thumb to the corner of his mouth. “No one?”

“No one, Officer Jonah. No one at all.”

Maybe—just maybe—River had made a career in acting because she had a flare for the dramatic. She let that hang between them, holding the policeman’s eyes.

“So I went to the DMV, who told me to go back to the city hall, because permits were only processed through the city hall. At which point I told the clerk I would immortalize them in film as the least helpful human being on the planet if they didn’t tell me something. So it was suggested I find a woman named Ashtyn Lockett, the keeper of all the permits.”

The deputy tried and failed to cover her laugh.

“Assuming I would get nothing but more runaround from the lovely locals in this town, I came here. Because who would know more than the local police about government type matters? Only there was a sign on your door saying you were getting a sandwich at Frankie’s. From what I can tell, there is no place called Frankie’s.”