Page 28 of Big Daddy Sheriff

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” Bruce said. He signaled and eased onto the small grassy shoulder.

“What the hell?” Hector demanded.

“We aren’t wanted for anything. We haven’t broken the law in Oklahoma. I haven’t even so much as sped.”

“But you lied,” Hector pointed out.

“Is that a crime? For all he knows, we really need the oil changed. Play it cool. And whatever you do, don’t pull a gun,” Bruce commanded.

Hector didn’t look thrilled, but he nodded.

They sat still and waited as the marshal approached.

They were far enough out of town that Quinn technically didn’t have jurisdiction.

But the guys probably didn’t realize that. Besides, there was an agreement between him and the county sheriff’s office that allowed him to wander off his range when needed to assist the deputies or step in when they were too far away to reach a scene quickly. He was just going to assume this was one of those times.

“Is there a problem, Marshal?” the driver asked as the window slid down with a hum.

“I hope not,” Quinn said. “License and insurance, please.”

“Sure,” the guy said. “I’m just going to reach for my wallet and then inside the glove compartment. Is that okay?”

Quinn nodded. “Just go slow.”

“Of course.”

Quinn kept a watchful eye as he said, “You have experience encountering law enforcement, huh?”

The man chuckled. “You’ll know soon enough, so no sense in hiding it. I did some time. But I completed parole and I’m free and clear now.”

He handed Quinn the requested documents.

“Do you want to tell me why you’re really in Big Cedar?” Quinn said. He glanced briefly at the insurance verification card and license but didn’t let his eyes stay diverted for too long.

“Like I said, just passing through and wanted a bite to eat.”

“You said you needed an oil change.”

The guy—Bruce, from the name on his license—laughed. “Realized that as we were finishing breakfast. So, that too.”

The man in the passenger seat removed the cigarette from his mouth and craned his neck to try and look across and out the window. “The more we talked about it, Officer, the more we realized this car is long overdue. We got worried and wanted to take care of it. You know?”

Quinn bent down slightly to observe the service sticker that was in the upper corner of the windshield. “Hmm. This says you just got the oil changed last month.”

“Well, we’ve put a lot of miles on it since then,” Bruce said.

“And if I take a look at the milage and compare it with the sticker it’ll confirm that?” Quinn said.

The tension was palpable. The guys in the car wisely didn’t make any sudden movements, but Quinn was ready just in case they did.

“Do you have a warrant to look in here, Marshal?” Bruce said. “And speaking of all that… you’re the town marshal. Or that’s what you told me. Seems like out here, this far from town, it would be the county’s jurisdiction. I’m only guessing. I’m not an expert, of course.” There was a hint of malevolence in the smirk he wore.

Quinn grinned back. “Well, I do have a special commission to help the county boys out from time to time. It’s a rural area. Big swath of land to cover. The more hands on deck the better.” He held up the license and insurance. “Just sit tight and give me a few minutes to run these. We’ll have you on your way soon.”

He got in his cruiser, used his phone to capture a picture of the ID, then ran it through the system.

No outstanding warrants and the vehicle was clean.

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