Page 58 of Don't Let Go

“Might help you remember more to write it down,” the deputy said, some of his friendliness sanding away and leaving only the suspicion. “You just passing through?”

“Uh oh,” Patch murmured in my ear. “Someone doesn’t like you.”

“Maybe,” I said, as much for her as it was for him. Hell, the quick smile touching my lips was definitely all about her. “Might stick around a while. You never know.”

“Is that right?” The deputy eyed me like I’d kicked his dog or something. Kind of insulting. I didn’t kick dogs. Might kick this asshole if he didn’t fuckoff.

The man shifted his gaze to behind me. Remy had already let me know he was there with a faint drag of his step. This was a recent development. If we were all going to be living in suchclose quarters, he and McQuade needed to make sounds when they walked. They were too damn quiet and I was going to end up stabbing them or something.

“Could be,” I said, giving him a smile that was all teeth. “Thanks for asking, Deputy. I always appreciate a friendly town.”Also, you can go suck a dick, I finished in my head.

I circled round him, not giving him too wide a berth, but not invading his space and moving on to the next aisle.

“What about you?” The deputy stepped in front of Remy, stopping him from following. “You just passing through with your…”

Patch sighed. “His name is Leroy Jenks Wilson. He was born and raised in Juniper. His daddy is the sheriff, and he’s got ‘bully’ written all over him. Lots of petty shit with the law in the big cities, nothing locally.”

Daddy probably cleaned it up.

“His father probably swept it all under the rug. It’s a place where everyone knows everyone else. He’s got power and he isn’t afraid to exercise it.”

“You don’t say,” I murmured, then pivoted as the deputy jerked his gaze to me.

“What was that?”

“Robbie there can’t talk,” I told the deputy. “He can’t say what he’s doing here. Though, you could probably hazard a guess that since he’s with me, he might be passing through. He might not.”

I was all smiles, and very friendly.

“He don’t look like he’s got something wrong with him.” It was official, I would like to add burying Leroy Jenks here in the desert sooner rather than later.

He was fucking annoying.

“Son,” McQuade said, his voice deeper and gruffer than I’d ever heard him before. “Maybe you should walk along before you give a man who served his country any more grief.”

McQuade just stepped right into the deputy’s space, blocking him from Remy. The deputy wasn’t a particularly small man, but he wasn’t anywhere near as tall as McQuade and had to be at least thirty to forty pounds lighter on the muscle.

I had to wipe the smile off my face before I started to grin like an idiot. Deputy Wilson actually paled and there was just the finest sheen of sweat on his brow.

“I didn’t see a uniform,” he said, not quite stuttering the words. “You have to understand, Mister…”

“Sir,” McQuade corrected him, his expression could have been carved from granite.

“What?” Deputy Wilson stumbled to a halt.

“You called me ‘mister,’ the correct address issir.”

“Yes, sir,” the deputy said almost automatically. “Sorry, sir.”

Not laughing took every ounce of my effort.

“Better. Now son, maybe you should just go on about your day and your business. You clearly have a job to do. We’re just here to get some supplies and take a look around the town.”

None of which was a lie.

“Might even head over to that nice diner where we parked. Been stuck eating their grub for the last few weeks. Always ready for something better.”

“I see,” Deputy Wilson absolutely floundered now. He’d lost the thread here, utterly surrendered it to McQuade’s authority. I could feel bad for the little shit, but he was a little shit. “You might ask Ms. Nora about the pie. She always makes a fine cherry pie this time of year.”

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