Page 93 of Stormy Ride

Harlan had retreated to the far end of the room, and I was facing Drayton.

“This is a private meeting, Sheriff.”

“Not no more, it isn’t. You get on out of here and don’t come back. I’m calling your superior and reporting you and your fucking attitude. If I have my way, this will be your last day on the job.”

“You can’t get me fired.”

“That a challenge? Let’s see who wins, Miss Drayton.” I pulled out my phone and called Gloria Grafton in Cut Bank.

Haley Drayton packed up her briefcase and left.

“Travis, what can I do for you?”

“You can get Haley Drayton off my boy, that’s what you can do. I don’t like her dropping into the station when we’re working and stirring up shit and upsetting Harlan. I’m working on a fucking murder.”

“She came to the sheriff’s office?” asked Gloria.

“Just came through the door and wanted a private meeting with Harlan. He didn’t know she was coming, and he wasn’t ready. She said things that upset him. Harlan is doing well, and I don’t want her messing him up for no reason.”

“I apologize for that, Travis.”

“I don’t know what Drayton said to him, but I’m not letting her screw up my application for guardianship. Harlan only has a few more months until he’s sixteen and Haley Drayton will not be allowed to see my boy during that time.”

“I understand, and I’ll tell her that she’s no longer needed on Harlan’s case, Travis. I’ll put myself on as his case worker, only because he has to have someone assigned to him until he’s of legal age.”

“Okay, fine. When I find out what Drayton said to him, you’ll be the first to know about it and you can cut her a severance check.”

“I’ll be waiting to hear from you, Travis. And again, I apologize for Haley coming to the station.”

I ended the call and pushed the door of the break room closed. Without saying anything to Harlan, I walked over to the coffee maker and filled two mugs. I took them over to the table and sat down.

And I waited.

A few minutes passed before Harlan turned around, looked my way, and saw the mug of coffee on the table. He sauntered over and sat down.

“You don’t have to tell me what she said. Tell me five years from now and that will be soon enough.”

“Thanks.”

Bronowski’s lawyer was next up, and I hadn’t calmed down much from the Drayton fuckup. “Sorry, Mister Trammell, but we don’t have an interview room here. You’ll have to talk to your client in the run. Best I can do.”

“No problem, Sheriff. Happens a lot. Most of these small stations are the same.”

I unlocked the run and showed the legal beagle where his client was and locked him in there to talk to Bronowski.

When he knocked on the door, ready to leave, he asked when the arraignment was, and that was it.

As soon as he left, I took Harlan from the break room, and we went back to Bronowski’s property to snoop around.

Bronowski Residence. Ethridge.

Room by room, Harlan and I ran the house looking for evidence. “What exactly are we looking for?” asked Harlan.

“Honestly, I have no idea what would incriminate Bronowski in his wife’s death. Because of the days of water damage to Kala’s body, Doctor Olson couldn’t tell if he strangled her with his bare hands, or if he used a weapon or a pillow to smother her.”

“Whatever he did, he did in the car, right?” asked Harlan. “He had to be at the bridge.”

“Had to be.”

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