Page 42 of Midnight Ride

Tammy made fried chicken for dinner and Dad didn’t show up. Billy didn’t know where he was and neither did any of us. Last we knew, he went to the feed store to get the ammo to stock up the gun cabinet.

“Maybe he made up with Savanna and took her out for dinner,” said Virge.

“Yeah, that’s one possibility,” said Billy. “But I don’t think Travis was ready to do that yet. Never said anything to me about giving it another shot.”

“If he saw Savanna when he was buying the ammo,” said Tammy, “he could be at the Run.”

“How do you figure that?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Dunno. Makes sense to me.”

“I don’t see it,” I said. “Don’t seem logical.”

“You and Virge go see if he’s there and can’t drive home,” said Tammy.

Virge screwed up his face. “Ya think he’s gonna be that fuckin drunk just because he saw Savanna at the feed store?”

“Go see.”

Dry Run Roadhouse.

Me and Virge walked into the roadhouse and glanced around. From behind the bar, Jack saw us come in and pointed down the row of booths to his right.

Three empty pitchers in front of him, one empty glass and an empty bottle of Jose Cuervo. Travis was slumped over in the booth, his head down on the table, sound asleep.

“Let’s get him out to the truck, Virge. He’s a goddamned mess.”

Chapter Nine

Tuesday, September 10th.

Wild Stallion Ranch.

Travis opened his blue eyes and realized he wasn’t even close to feeling human. No way he was ready to wake up. He rolled over and pulled the quilt up around himself and tried to go back to sleep. He was in no condition to drag himself out of bed to face another day as sheriff of Coyote Creek.

He gave it a few minutes and still wasn’t asleep. His gut wouldn’t cooperate, and he was definitely going to heave. No doubt about that. Nature’s call forced him to haul his drunken ass out of bed and across the hall to the bathroom.

As he closed the bathroom door he heard the kids holler from the kitchen, “Dad’s up.”

Aw, Jesus. What time is it?

Down on his knees in front of the toilet, he couldn’t recall coming home to the ranch. He wasn’t about to ask the kids about it and set them to laughing at him. No fucking way that was going to happen.

Breakfast was almost over when Travis made it to the kitchen table. Didn’t matter anyway—he couldn’t eat.

“Black coffee, Daddy?” Tammy set a steaming mug in front of him.

“You okay, Dad?” asked Virge.

“Yeah, sure. Never better.”

That drew smiles all around the table, but the kids were wise enough not to laugh or make a fuckin sound.

Sheriff’s Office. Coyote Creek.

Travis sat in the break room and drank black coffee while Billy took over and got us working. “Tammy, you’re on the Olivers at the old motel. Harlan, you go with Tammy.

“Copy, boss.”

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