Time to work. Mentally donning her medical receptionist hat, Kit got the elderly woman and her husband squared away to see Caz in the health clinic.

Next up was a person reporting a fender-bender.

JJ came out to retrieve that one.

This job sure wasn’t anything she’d ever imagined doing but was exactly what she needed for the summer. Between the police station, the medical clinic, the library, and the records office, the building was the heart of the town.

And she’d started to feel like she belonged in Rescue.

An hour later, Gabe strode across the lobby to her desk. His rough-hewn face held an unreadable expression rather than a smile. “Kit.”

“Is something wrong?” She jumped to her feet, panic rising. “Aric?”

“No. Nothing like that. I have news about Parrish.”

Fear tightened her stomach. “And.”

“He’s dead, Kit. He was shanked—knifed, essentially—during a prison fight.”

Reverend Parrish, the Prophet, was dead. She shook her head in disbelief. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” A fleeting smile crossed his face. “I knew you’d worry, so I called the prison staff. There’s no doubt.”

“Oh.” Worries she hadn’t even imagined fell away. Was this what trees felt like when shedding their leaves? “It’s horrible to feel so relieved someone is dead.”

Gabe’s expression went hard. “It’s sad to be such a bastard that your passing causes more relief than regret. And, in this case, one of the women in the Texas compound had a brother who wanted to see Parrish pay.”

“Chief.” JJ stood in the doorway of the police station. “We have a pile-up out on Sterling, and the drivers are fighting. The troopers asked for help if we’re available.”

Gabe hesitated, gaze on Kit.

“I’m fine.” She made a scooting motion with her fingers. “Off with you.”

He tapped the top of her desk. “You’re a good match for Hawk. I’m glad he found you.”

Thank heavens he left, since it took a full minute before she picked her jaw up off the floor.

But then another two people came in needing directions to the library and records office.

During the hours at the desk, Kit processed her feelings about Parrish’s death.

The Prophet had been a huge figure in the PZ compound, and her husband had blindly followed him.

Without Parrish, the Patriot Zealots had no leader. Captain Nabera had been second in command, but it was the Prophet who’d held them together.

Now, their fanatic cult would truly fall apart. And Nabera’s world would be shattered. The thought was so very satisfying.

Kit took a breath and a deeper one, then smiled. The pissers would scurry into the woodwork like the cockroaches they were, and they wouldn’t come back out.

She could stop looking over her shoulder in fear they’d come for her.

I am free.

And she was in love.

Chapter Twenty-Eight