Page 57 of His Fresh Start Cowboy
Hugo refrained from bristling, because he was no fucking thief, but the sooner they got this over with, the sooner he could sleep. “Knock yourself out, Sheriff, I’ve got nothing to hide.” He led both men over to the trailer and fished out his key. This lock was usually a little sticky and seemed loose when he turned it, as if he’d forgotten to lock it before he left, and the door swung open easily.
He stepped aside and allowed McBride to go inside first, his flashlight up and beam bright. Unsure of the protocol here, Hugo waited outside with Elmer, trying hard not to fidget. He had nothing salacious for the sheriff to find. Hardly any belongings at all, really, so the search shouldn’t take very long.
“I’m sorry about this, son,” Elmer said. “But he has to make sure.”
“It’s fine.” It wasn’t but Hugo could humor the man. His family heirlooms were missing and that wasn’t cool. Hugo hoped McBride found the culprit and threw the book at them. “He’s gotta do it by the book, right?”
“Sure.”
“I’m really sorry this happened, though.”
“Thank you, son.”
“Mr. Turner!” McBride called. “Can you come inside for a moment?”
“Sure.” Hugo went up the three short steps and into the trailer. McBride stood in front of one of the kitchen’s open top cupboards, his flashlight shining at one of the shelves. Hugo didn’t keep much in those cupboards except cereal, toaster pastries, and chips, so he didn’t know what was so exciting.
“Can you tell me what that is?” McBride asked.
“Um.” Hugo stepped over and followed the beam of light to some sort of small wooden box on the top shelf, partly obscured by half a bag of corn chips. “No. I didn’t put it there.”
“Does anyone else live here with you?”
“No, sir.” He was officially confused now and aware of Elmer standing just inside the door of the trailer, watching.
McBride turned off the flashlight and tucked it back into his belt. Nudged the chips aside and pulled the wooden box down. Dark and definitely old, if the dovetail joints meant anything. But why was it—Oh no. McBride opened the hinged lid and showed off multiple coins, some in those little cardboard protectors and others loose in plastic baggies. All kinds of coins.
“What the hell?” Hugo blurted. “What is that doing there?”
“My question exactly,” McBride said.
Everything stopped making sense for several horrifying moments. “But I didn’t... I would never.”
“Mr. Pearce,” McBride said, “are these the items that are missing from your personal possession?”
Elmer shuffled past, his expression a confusing mix of surprised and hurt. He glanced into the box briefly. “Ayup, those are the coins.”
“All right.” McBride put the box on the counter, then pulled a pair of handcuffs off his belt. “Hugo Turner, you’re under arrest for burglary and trespassing.”
“What?” Hugo was so stunned he didn’t fight it when McBride turned him around and pulled his right hand behind his back. Snapped on a cuff.
“You have the right to remain silent.”
The world grayed out briefly while McBride read him his rights. Elmer simply stood there, not saying a word. “I didn’t steal anything, I swear,” Hugo said to Elmer as McBride led him outside. “I’m no thief.”
Hurt and confused, and already hungry and tired, Hugo didn’t protest McBride putting him into the backseat of the sheriff’s car. His face blazed with shame over being in the back of a cop car for the first time in his life, and worse, for something he absolutely had not done. Even if he hadn’t been gone for the better part of three days, he would never steal from Elmer. Not for any reason. Someone had put those coins in his trailer.
But who? And why?
As soon as they arrived at the county municipal building and Hugo was processed, he demanded his fucking phone call.
Brand had just settled in the kitchen nook with his parents for a simple dinner of leftovers when his phone rang. Dad didn’t like anyone to take calls during dinner if they could help it, so Brand gave his screen a quick glance. Sheriff’s Office. He was pretty sure the sheriff had never called him before, so he couldn’t imagine why anyone was calling now. Wrong number, maybe?
It didn’t sit right with him, so Brand excused himself from the table. “Hello?”
“Brand?” Hugo’s furious voice crackled over the line, and it was the last thing Brand expected to hear. “I need help.”
“Hugo? What’s going on? Why are you calling from the sheriff’s station?”
