Page 27 of The Keeper

Seth narrowed his eyes. “You deduced that from a hunch?”

Lyndhurst’s answering smile became more Cheshire cat than Sylvester. Damn, that was a lot of teeth. “I have an inside source at the federal prison hosting the Carsons. Mick’s not in the greatest health and is showing signs of severe fatigue. He’s told people he doesn’t want to die in prison.”

“Mick said this to who?” Seth pressed, though he suspected the answer.

“During phone calls with his family.” Sensing his skepticism, Lyndhurst quickly added, “He knows the calls are recorded, so he’s pretty cagey about most things. He doesn’t shy away from expressing his desire to get out of jail as soon as possible. My goal is to strike a deal to avoid a trial. If Mick rolls, then it becomes likelier Quinton will take a deal too.”

“What do the federal prosecutors think?”

Lyndhurst shrugged. “Hell if I know. They didn’t share any of this with me, so I’m not inclined to discuss my plans with them. I want to save the taxpayers’ money and move on from this blight on our county. We’re both up for reelection, and this will be a feather in both our caps if we can wrap this up before then. I don’t want the federal prosecutors to prevent me from talking to Mick Carson.”

“Sounds like you have a plan.”

“Ole Judge McCready isn’t just going to kick the trial down the road without making sure that’s what the defendants want since they’re held without bail. They have a right to a speedy trial, and he’ll reiterate that to them. We don’t want them to walk on appeals by claiming ineffective counsel.”

“You think this or you know?” Seth asked.

The Cheshire cat returned. “Know. McCready has already told the attorneys their clients must be in his courtroom when he hears arguments. The feds will transport Mick and Quinton here for the hearing and take them back when it’s over. I’ll take a swing at him while he’s in our custody.”

“When?” One of his primary jobs as sheriff was overseeing the jails in his county. He should be the first person to know when a high-profile inmate was coming, even if it was only for a few hours.

“McCready’s clerk hasn’t picked a hearing date yet, but I’ll inform you as soon as the notice comes across my desk.” Ah, so he’d discussed the situation with Judge McCready over cards or fishing rods.

“Appreciate it.” Seth pushed to his feet and extended his hand. “I’ve taken enough of your time, Tony.”

“The pendulum is swinging in our direction, Burke. I can feel it.”

“I hope so.”

Seth tried to keep a tight rein on his emotions as he walked to the parking lot, but Lyndhurst’s enthusiasm was contagious. Maybe his buoyed emotions were to blame for calling Seth’s burner phone as soon as he was alone in his truck.

“Hello.” The silky, sexy voice turned his insides to mush.

“I figured out what you smell like.”

Rueben chuckled. “And what’s that?”

“The fabric softener that smells like sun-dried clothes.”

“You know my little secret, then. It reminds me of laundry day with my abuela. I got so embarrassed as a kid whenever she hung my underwear on the clothesline.”

Seth laughed. “My grandmother did the same thing. I loved the way my clothes smelled, but the fabric got too scratchy.”

“And stiff,” Rueben said. “Your sexy voice makes my dick as hard as my jeans got on the clothesline.”

The reference made Seth laugh. “I’m dying to see you again.”

“I still feel you whenever I move, but barely. I need a reminder.”

The rumble of an approaching truck drowned out Seth’s groan. He looked in his rearview mirror in time to see a large red king cab truck slow down. It sported red, white, and blue bunting along the sides and big magnetic signs that read “Martindale for Sheriff.” Amos extended his arm out the open window and waved at Seth as he drove by.

That not-so-subtle reminder should’ve doused his lust and steered Seth in the right direction. Instead, he returned his full attention to Rueben. “We’ve got to be smarter.” Like not calling Rueben on his secret phone in the middle of his workday.

“Yes, we do.” Rueben’s words were silky and sly.

“You have a plan.”

“Of course,” Rueben said. “I have a dental cleaning scheduled for Wednesday. Maybe I could detour to the cabin on the way back.”

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