Page 89 of Longest Ride

Nashville. Tennessee.

After a long day of peddling his songs, Ray was pumped that he actually sold one. Bobby had enjoyed his day hanging around on the music scene and he was happy for his new friend.

They cabbed it back to the truck stop and went into the restaurant for dinner.

After a long talk about their futures, Bobby decided to sell both of his houses and the Freightliner, and he’d retire in Tennessee. They’d get a place in a nice trailer park and Ray could work the Nashville scene while Bobby worked on getting well.

After having so many days when he was close to death, Bobby wasn’t afraid of dying or being arrested any longer. It just didn’t matter. If he went to jail, he could do the time. He was sure of it.

He’d get a new ID, change his appearance and take his chances in Tennessee. It was where Ray needed to be, and Bobby didn’t give a flying fuck where he lived any longer. It just didn’t seem important. After surviving Tammy, nothing mattered but living one day at a time.

Chapter Eighteen

Sunday, October 6th.

Wild Stallion Ranch.

“Thanks for doing the grocery shopping, boys. I got so fuckin far behind,” said Travis. He took a carton of eggs out of the fridge along with a pound of bacon and turned the heat on under the frying pan.

“No problem, Dad,” I said. “You can ask me and Virge to do whatever ain’t getting done. We don’t mind helping you out while you’re all fucked up.”

Travis smiled. “Good offer. Thanks, boys.”

After they ate breakfast, Billy went ahead to the station to feed the prisoners and make coffee for them.

“This is our day off, boys,” said Travis, “but we’ll have to work all the same.”

“I’ll start on Wyatt’s laptop,” I said.

“What we need to know, Harlan, is if he’s selling pictures, soliciting kids online or just looking at the pictures and being a pervert. See what you can sort out, son. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“I’ll try, Dad. I’m no expert on the dark web.”

“If we get anything to go on, I’ll give the laptop to a tech at the FBI and those boys can dig into it.”

“I can’t believe Wyatt would have pictures like that,” said Virge. “So gross, Dad. That don’t seem like the newspaper guy we always talk to at the diner.”

“No, it doesn’t seem like Wyatt at all. Seems like two different people.”

Before we left for the station, Travis got calls from two different lawyers requesting meetings with their clients before they were arraigned the next day. Since he’d planned on working anyway, Travis said they could come to the station, and he’d let them in.

Sheriff’s Office. Coyote Creek.

Billy was working in his office when Travis, the boys and the dogs came into the station through the sally port at the back of the building.

Travis poured himself a coffee and hadn’t made it as far as Billy’s office when the first lawyer was banging on the front door.

Virge ran on ahead and unlocked the door and let the suit in.

Travis hurried down the hall into the squad room to meet the lawyer.

“I’m Tyrone Shelton here to see Dave Turcotte.”

Travis shook the lawyer’s extended hand and said, “Billy will take you into the run to see Dave, sir.”

“Thanks. Sorry to put you out on a Sunday, but Dave’s arraignment is tomorrow, and I need to have a word with him first.”

“Understood,” said Travis.

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