Page 74 of Orphan Girl's Mountain Men

"What's it all about then, Sheriff?" Dean's voice is not unfriendly, but it holds a certain level of authority in it. A promise that he can't come in here and think he's going to intimidate us.

The sheriff steps further into the kitchen, removing his sunglasses and puffing himself up like he's the big dog in the room. Behind him, his deputy stands in the doorway, still holding the briefcase, chewing gum and trying to look menacing.He cuts no ice with Dean though, who barely even glances at him. His eyes are on the Sheriff, waiting to see what he has to say for himself. Dean's as cool as can be in a combat situation, but with stuff like this he tends to boil over quickly. Best keep an eye on this.

"I'm here as part of an official investigation into the possible theft of valuable land—namely the property known as True Heart Lodge, which sits directly adjacent to your own."

Dean cocks an eyebrow. "You're investigating theft of land now?" There's a slight twitch in his right hand, like he's clenching it too tightly, holding back from swinging it, and I can see a blood vessel swelling in his neck. I glance at Reed, who gives me the barest nod back. We need to make sure things don't escalate.

"I've received information suggesting this property was unlawfully taken from another local landowner—a Mr. Sinclair. He claims the deed transfer was fraudulent, possibly involving falsified documents or coercion. That's a serious matter."

Dean lets out a low laugh. "He's full of shit. We all know it. You know it too." He reaches for his coffee and there's a slight tremor in his hand, a slight tension in his voice. No one who didn't know him well would notice. But I notice it, and I can see Reed has noticed too.

The sheriff clears his throat. "Mr. Sinclair is prepared to be reasonable. He's offering each of you a $10,000 good faith payment if you'll sign this document, verifying that to the best of your knowledge, the land was previously under his ownership."

The Sheriff signals to his henchman, who hands him the briefcase he's been carrying. The Sheriff sets it down on the table, clicks it open, and pulls out an official-looking document, placing it on the table in front of us. At the top it says Victor Sinclair Vs Hailey Thompson.

Even if Dean doesn't explode, which I have a feeling he might do any minute, I've had enough of this shit myself. I fold my arms across my chest. "And if we don't?"

"Well…" The sheriff shrugs. "That'd be a real shame, boys." He purses his lips and shakes his head, like he's thinking about how terrible the consequences will be. But he's full of shit, and we all know it.

"I'm not saying anything will happen, of course. But let's be real. Once you're flagged for land use issues, it's a damn paperwork minefield. The IRS, Department of Agriculture, the EPA, Planning and Zoning—they all get involved. Wraps you up in paperwork for months. Or years. Then there's all the court appearances, the lawyers' fees… so, expensive years as well as all that wasted time."

"You threatening us, Sheriff?" Dean's voice drops into a dangerous calm, the blood vessel in his neck is now pulsing, and his face is flushed red. I glance a little nervously at Reed. This is going to turn bad any moment now.

"Just explaining the realities of bureaucracy, son. That's all."

Reed stands up slowly, as he does so he puts one hand gently onto Dean's shoulder. A reassurance that he's got this covered, a reminder not to go ape shit. He may be a corrupt son-of-a-bitch, but he's still the Sheriff. Neither Reed nor I want to be bailing Dean out of jail for beating up the Sheriff.

"Here's a reality check for you. You come here again peddling this kind of filth, we'll wrap you in so much red tape they'll have to cut you out with a hunting knife."

Dean turns to me. "Get him out. Get him out now, or I won't be responsible for my actions."

I step forward and open the door. "Time to go, Sheriff."

The man puffs up, trying to hold onto his bluster. "You boys are making a mistake. You think you're tough? You think this ends well for you?"

Dean doesn't even blink. "I know exactly how it ends."

I step between Dean and the Sheriff, and hand him back his now empty briefcase.

"The answer's 'no'—and for your own health, don't come back."

By this time the two of them are out of the door. The Sheriff opens his mouth to say something, but I'm not interested. I slam the door shut without bothering to listen, and head back to the kitchen.

Reed slumps back into his seat with a growl. "So, it's started."

"Looks like it," I agree.

Dean crosses his arms and leans against the counter, staring at the spot where the sheriff had been standing. His jaw is tight, eyes stormy.

"I want eyes on Sinclair," he says. "He's obviously desperate to get his hands on Hailey's land. I don't get it, but there it is. He's shown us that he's desperate enough to bribe a corrupt Sheriff and try to bribe the three of us. What else might he be prepared to do to get his own way? I want to know how far he's willing to go."

"I'll call in a few favors," Reed says. "Discreet surveillance. Nothing traceable."

Dean gives a single nod. "Good."

Silence settles, heavier this time.

Then I speak up. "What about Hailey?"

---