The Sheriff

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Content Warning: This series includes violence, ritual harm, bullying, and psychological trauma involving teens. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

Read carefully. In Antigua Falls, even stories have teeth.

In this episode: As Tom Wallace and Ned Carter push the investigation forward, the town of Antigua Falls begins to push back. And the deeper they go, the more the truth slips just out of reach.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Interlude

I, Detective Ned Carter, being duly sworn, state as follows:

On November 15, 2025, at approximately 7:37 a.m., Constance Robinson voluntarily appeared at the Oklahoma State Bureau of Investigation facility and agreed to participate in a recorded interview. Robinson identified herself by full name, date of birth, and residence. She was visibly distressed but coherent and oriented. The interview was audio and video recorded.

Robinson stated that her son, Allistair Robinson, age 15, admitted to her that he was responsible for the disappearance and death of Lyla Hill, a minor currently reported missing from Antigua Falls, Oklahoma. Robinson reported that on or about November 14, 2025, Allistair returned home and stated that he “had done a bad thing.”

Robinson further stated that Allistair showed her photographs on his cellular phone depicting a deceased female she recognized as Lyla Hill based on previously distributed missing person posters. Robinson described the female as having severe facial trauma and referenced a black, viscous substance present around the victim’s eyes, details consistent with investigative observations not released to the public. Robinson stated the photographs appeared to be taken outdoors in a wooded area and appeared to be original images contained within the phone’s photo gallery, not screenshots or downloaded media.

Robinson identified Allistair’s device as a Samsung Galaxy, which he regularly keeps on his person and takes to school. Robinson stated that after showing her the images, Allistair became emotional, cried, and stated he “couldn’t remember doing it.”

This affiant has confirmed the following:

1. Lyla Hill is currently listed as a missing juvenile in Antigua County.

2. The description provided by Robinson contains specific investigative details not publicly disclosed, indicating firsthand exposure to evidence relevant to the case.

3. The described cellular device constitutes likely evidence of homicide, including potential photographic documentation and associated metadata establishing time, location, and activity.

Based on the totality of the circumstances, this affiant believes there is probable cause to believe:

• A homicide has occurred; and

• Allistair Robinson committed said homicide.

This affiant respectfully requests issuance of:

1. An Arrest Warrant for Allistair Robinson for Homicide – First Degree, and

2. A Search Warrant authorizing seizure of Allistair’s cellular phone, electronic storage devices, backpack, and clothing, and any related materials likely to contain digital or physical evidence.

Respectfully submitted,


Detective Ned Carter
Oklahoma State Bureau of Investigation

Subscribed and sworn before me this 15th day of November, 2025.


The Honorable Robert J. Whitaker
District Judge, State of Oklahoma
Antigua County District Court

“So, you sent it to the judge already,” Wilkes said.

Ned knew it was rhetorical, but still said, “Yes.”

“Without contacting my office.”

He glanced at Tom, waiting for backup. Tom was leaned back in the chair across from Wilkes desk. His arms were folded across his chest. He stared out the window, eyes scanning the naked tree outside.

“We thought it best to obtain a warrant for the phone as soon as possible. If the kid suspects his mom will turn him in, he might destroy the only tie we have to him and Lyla Hill,” said Ned.

“And has the body been positively identified yet?” Wilkes asked.

“Autopsy is pending—” Ned started.

“And has Miss Robinson been deemed credible?”

Ned thought about her fingers, smeared with inky black liquid. Lyla Hill’s eyes in the photograph oozing the same.

“She was distraught, emotional to be sure. But that is something we would expect given the circumstances,” said Ned.

“Do you know anything about Miss Robinson’s background, gentlemen?” Wilkes smiled a little when he asked it. His gold tooth flashed for a moment, then disappeared again behind pale, stretched lips. They looked like worms.

“We know she has no criminal history,” Ned replied.

“No, that’s true. She does, however, suffer from bouts of depression. Last year, not long after she moved here, she got checked into the hospital on a three day hold. The boy’s grandparents had to pick him up. They told us it wasn’t the first time.”

“That doesn’t negate her claims,” said Ned.

“I’m not saying it does. But given the state she was in, the condition of that flier,” he paused and looked at both of them seriously, “I would have done my due diligence before calling judges in the middle of dinner. The last thing we want is to move on the word of a crazy woman.”

“She had the same substance on her hands that we found at the crime scene,” Big Tom said.

Ned turned and watched him. Since the interview, he hadn’t been right. Withdrawals were getting to him. Any idiot could see that. That black substance had been on his mind. He was convinced it had appeared out of nowhere on Miss Robinson’s hands.

It poured out of Lyla’s eyes Ned.

Ned had tried to talk sense into him. The reality was that Miss Robinson had done that to the poster herself. He knew that. He needed Tom to know it if they were going to make a case.

“It got on her because she forgot she was holding onto it. That’s all Tom,” Ned had tried to reassure him, but Tom was set on it.

It’s just like my dreams.

“Lab told you that?” Wilkes asked.

Ned snapped back, and held his breath waiting for Tom’s answer.

Instead, Tom’s eyes narrowed on Wilkes. “You know this kid?”

Wilkes shifted his weight onto his other foot, and for a moment, Ned thought he saw something like fear ripple across his features. Then it was gone. He steadied himself.

“I know everyone in this town. That’s why you should have come to me first. If people catch wind that we’re acting on the word of Constance Robinson, you can kiss this investigation goodbye. Without definitive proof, a jury will never believe a word that poor woman has to say.”

“The DA thought different,” said Tom. “If you got a problem with the warrant, take it up with him.”

Big Tom stood so Wilkes had to look up at him. Wilkes’ tongue rolled across his upper lip, and he chuckled to himself.

“No DA wants to be made a fool of Big Tom,” said Wilkes.

“And no Sheriff wants a murderer loose. Imagine what would happen if it turns out he did do it, and you sat back and waited to make a move. I would hate to see the press turn your zeal for caution into something else.”

Wilkes’ smile evaporated.

***

Big Tom was already halfway down the hallway when Ned rounded the corner.

“Tom, wait up,” he called, and jogged up to his side. “That was tense in there. What do you think that was about?”

“I’m not sure,” Tom said, and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. Ned caught a slight tremor in them, before they slipped into the fabric. “But I can smell a coverup.”

“A coverup?” Ned asked.

Tom was unraveling. It was clear by the black circles under his eyes that he hadn’t slept.

Tread carefully boy-o. You’re on shaky ground.

Tom stopped walking, and looked directly at Ned. “I know the things you’ve heard about me, and I know what I must look like to you. But I can see you’re a good detective Ned. You have the instinct for it. For one second, listen with your guts, not your head. Tell me, do you think Wilkes is concerned about this case holding up in court? Dotting i’s and crossing t’s? Does he strike you as the bureaucratic type?”

Ned thought back to their first meeting at the crime scene. He had dismissed Merl Hendersen before OSBI arrived, smiled at them with that flashy tooth in the midst of yellow tape and severed limbs. More than that, he knew it was Lyla Hill, almost immediately.

She’s got hair down to there.

Ned shook his head, and Tom’s face lit up a little.

“Right. Now you’ve got a knack for this work, but you don’t have the experience. Let me tell you something about Wilkes. He is connected, with a capital C. I’ve heard about him over the years. We know each other professionally. But every time his name has been mentioned?” Tom shook his head. “It’s never in relation to his zeal for justice. Something else is going on here.”

Tom started walking again, and Ned followed, allowing his words to settle heavy in his gut. His excitement over the case was fading. The missing puzzle pieces were coming in fuzzy. They were there, but he couldn’t fit them together.

“So what do we do now? The kid is missing, gone after his mom attacked him. It’s not like he’ll come running if we put him on a wanted list.”

Tom walked faster.

“You’re right about that. We don’t want him tipped off. All it does is give him a chance to destroy evidence. He sees we’re after him, he’ll take that phone and make sure those photos are never found. And without them—” Tom trailed off.

“Wilkes is right. All we have right now is a mother with a history of mental illness. She’s new to town, which I’m starting to gather might work against her. We need evidence,” said Ned.

“That black shit is everywhere,” said Tom.

“So what? That doesn’t tie the kid to a murder. With that logic we might as well lock his mother up too.”

They reached the entrance, and Tom pulled one hand out of his coat pocket to push the door open.

“Are we leaving?” asked Ned.

“I always think better on a full stomach.”

“And you need a beer,” said Ned, eyeing Tom’s shaky hand.

Tom nodded. They regarded one another in silence for a moment.

You’re in kid. He likes you.

“Lead the way,” said Ned, smiling in spite of himself.

He held a hand out and motioned for Tom to go first.

“You like pie?” asked Tom when they reached his truck.

“Love it.”

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