Page 6 of Wild Card
He gave me a knowing look. “I guess that’s the price you pay for being sheriff material. Go on in. I got it out here.”
“I’m about as far from sheriff material as you can get.”
I raised my window before he could reply and drove into the lot.
The team buses took up the back row, and a few groups of eager tailgaters were already grilling burgers and breaking out coolers of beer. Soon, the lot would be overflowing.
This year’s Homecoming game was a rivalry match between Granville and Riverton High, and it always brought out a huge crowd.
These rivalries were fun but also a pain in the ass. The crowd got riled up. Even the coaches got in on it, making outlandish bets about what the loser had to do. One year, Granville Coach Dawson Woods had to dye his hair the Riverton colors. Another time, Riverton High Coach Haskins had to wear Granville jerseys to school for the rest of the year.
The reason they needed the law here, though, was because of the time that the Riverton crowd had stormed the Granville field, outraged by what they considered a bad call.
That wasn’t likely to happen tonight. For one thing, the Granville folks weremuchbetter behaved than we were, so they wouldn’t trash our stadium. And I didn’t only think that because I was a Granville alum. I’d seen it through the job. Something about Riverton was just a little grittier, a little edgier than Granville.
I caught sight of my nephew warming up with his team. He grinned when he saw me, and I flashed a thumbs-up in hisdirection. Bodie was damn proud of himself for making varsity at Granville High this year, as he should be. In this area, we took our high school football seriously.
I walked along the sidelines, scanning the fans as they came in, making sure everyone was behaving. I made a circuit of the field and was just about to take a stroll by the concessions and bathrooms when my sister jogged down the bleachers.
Her chestnut hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, swinging behind her head, and she was decked out in a Granville jersey and face paint with Bodie’s #17 on her cheek.
“Uh-oh,” I joked. “You look like trouble.”
She scoffed. “I’m not the one you have to look out for. It’s those old boosters. You’d think we were at the Super Bowl!”
I laughed. “About as close as any of us will get, anyway.”
“Krissy and I are in the fourth row, and don’t even think about getting her another of those hot dogs with onions. She was—” Camille paused, eyes narrowing. “Wait. Why are you in uniform?”
“I don’t suppose you’d believe it’s because it’s fashionable?”
She groaned. “Dalton! Bodie has been so excited for you to watch him play!”
I winced. “I was excited too. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to me.”
“I’m here, right? I’m going to watch as much as I can while keeping an eye on the crowd. You know I requested the night off, but…”
“Your boss is an asshole,” she filled in.
My lips quirked. “Not what I was going to say. He’s your sheriff.”
Her nose crinkled. “Meh. We could do better.”
Movement in the bleachers caught my eye. Two older men were having a heated discussion, arms waving around. Theyappeared to be jostling over a small space on the third-row bleacher—where only one could fit at best.
“Tell Krissy I’ll buy her a hot dog at the next game,” I said as I started toward the stands. My niece was at the age when her affection could easily be bought.
“No, I don’t want—” Camille broke off as I jogged away.
“Hey, hey! Settle down,” I called to the jostling men in my best deputy voice. “Someone’s going to get hurt.”
“He’s trying to take my spot!” Russ Hughes exclaimed. I recognized him as one of the retirees who regularly dined at Jerkers Soda Shoppe. The owner, Brenda, always gave deputies free MoonShakes, so I’d seen him on my breaks.
A beefier man, with enough white hair to cover Russ’s shiny head and then some, elbowed him. “I got here first.”
“This is for Riverton boosters! You’re a Granny.”
