Page 30 of Rio's Release

There are nods around the table.

“One last bit of business. We’ve got the bare minimum for officers. I’m gonna tell you who I want in each position. I’m hoping you’ll all agree. Zig, you’re our VP. Blue, you’re our Sgt at Arms. Mauler, you’re our Road Captain. Bandit, you’re our Treasurer and Secretary until we get more members. And Bagger, you’re our Enforcer.” I look around the table. “Any objections? If you’re in, raise your hand.”

Every one of them does just that.

I look over at Zig. “Let’s you and me take that ride into town. I want to see for myself what’s going on.”

“You got it.”

I bang the gavel. “Meeting adjourned.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Townies

Rio—

Zig takes me in the pickup truck for a tour of the town. As we approach the city limits, we see a squad car with a vehicle pulled over on the shoulder.

A young girl is standing next to the driver’s door, and the officer is crowding her against it, his hand on the rooftop.

“Don’t turn your head to look,” Zig warns, and I tug my ball cap lower.

I don’t give the appearance of any interest, but I take it in out of the corner of my eye.

It’s Carson, and the girl looks like a teenager.

“That happen often?” I ask Zig.

“All the fucking time.” He drags a hand down his mouth. “I’m surprised fathers let their daughters out of their sight in this fucking town.”

We pass the motel I remember staying at. The name is different now, and it’s painted a new color. We pass the bank we robbed. It looks much the same.

Zig makes a turn onto the main drag, and Blitzy’s comes into view. It hasn’t changed at all. I spot the pickup window where I first saw Shelby, and the picnic table she and her friend sat at.

He makes another turn, and we pull into a restaurant parking lot. I read the sign.

The Stardust Café. The place looks cute in a fifty’s kind of way.

Zig parks, and we go inside. There are booths along the front windows, a few tables, and a counter with barstools.

We seat ourselves at a booth by the window. When Zig starts to sit, I motion him to the last one at the end so I can keep my back to the wall. Almost a decade in prison has me wary, and I know it’s not something that’s going to wear off anytime soon.

A waitress in her twenties comes over with a smile and a pot of coffee. “How are you boys today? Can I get you started with some coffee?”

I flip the cup on my saucer right side up. “Please.”

She fills us both up and slides two menus on the table. “The special today is meatloaf. I’ll give you boys some time.”

After she leaves, I scan the menu, Zig and I quiet in our perusal, and the low murmurings from the booth behind him carry to us.

“My sister got pulled over yesterday,” a teenage boy mutters.

“Oh, no. Is she okay?” the teen girl across from him replies.

“She won’t talk about it. But you know what happened to Rachel Ann from school.”

“Yeah, that awful Deputy Carson pinned her against her car and felt her up,” the girl whispers. “Do you think that happened to your sister?”

---