Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 61149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
It honestly gave me one less thing to stress about.
Having Rabbit spend all afternoon out of our direct sights is enough.
More than fucking enough.
I would’ve been incessantly texting her if I had even a ball hair of time to spare.
But I didn’t have that.
There was barely time to piss.
Once we’re inside the small building not meant to house many people at one time, Post makes a two-finger gesture to instruct that I continue to follow behind him. “Help me load up these last few boxes, and then you’re good to head out.” At the back of the building, he turns to the left to veer towards the supply closets rather than the holding cells. “I know Fred’s got that backup generator and shit for the clinic, but I also know the emergency vehicle could use a few more supplies. And come to think of it…” his concerned gaze momentarily finds mine, “so could the Wayland’s B&B. They’re at max capass – again this week – and somethin’ tells me they ain’t prepared for the shit that’s about to hit.”
“Most people aren’t.”
“Mind droppin’ off a couple there?”
“You got it.”
He simply pauses in front of the door we need instead of punching in the code to access it. “I appreciate the assistance out there today.”
“I know.”
“You’d still do it even if the town didn’t keep you on retainer for emergencies like this, wouldn’t ya?”
“Probably.” The corner of my lip kicks upward. “But let’s not fuck around with the town budget to find out.”
Light laughs leaving Post are attached to a small headshake. “We won’t.”
Do I need the money they throw at me to put my tow business on the back burner when shit weather hits – or is expected to hit – home?
No.
Is it nice shit to have?
Yeah.
Do I get the feeling between a new house, a wedding, and a baby it’s gonna come in real handy?
Without a fucking doubt.
As though I’ve cracked a window to my thoughts, Post curiously inquires, “Thinkin’ of puttin’ some of those funds towards your weddin’?”
“Maybe.”
“Y’all havin’ a weddin’?”
“Uh…” giving the back of neck a scratch is mindlessly done, “probably?”
“You ain’t certain?”
“I’m still tryin’ to wrap my mind around ‘em agreeing to marry my ass.”
The chuckles that flow free from Post are warm.
Friendly.
Full of indications that our non-traditional relationship isn’t a problem for people.
At least not in this town.
Guess my ex might be the exception to that.
But fuck her.
Sheriff keys in the numbers needed to unlock the door; however, the second he turns the handle Deputy Ludwig pops his head around the corner, salt and peppered beard covered face cringing. “Hate to delay ya, Boss, but she’s back.” He flashes the two of us a small cringe. “Again.”
“Ohforfuckssake,” mutters Post in obvious exasperation. “Alright. Go ahead and put her in my office.”
“She um…” Ludwig tugs uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt, “wants to speak with you now.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Now, now.”
“Like here in the damn hallway?”
“Correct.”
The surrendering of his hands precedes another exhausted sigh. “Let her through.”
“Let who through?” barely has time to leap past my lips.
“Sheriff Post,” unhappily states an almost painfully thin, slightly older than me, blonde woman upon her entering of the area, “you will speak with me now.”
A large, well-built male stations himself slightly behind her at the same time Post politely grins. “Of course, Mrs. McAdams.” The hand on the door is relocated to his pocket. “What can I do for ya today?”
McAdams.
As in…
“I want to discuss your findings regarding the whereabouts of my son.”
Yup.
That McAdams.
Folding my arms protectively across my chest is accompanied by drinking in the pale, sharp faced woman that from first glance appears to have given her son all of her looks.
Not sure who that’s more uncomfortable for.
Her or him.
Guess her since he’s dead.
“Unfortunately, Mrs. McAdams, there have been no new developments at this time.”
Her ice-cold glare becomes harsher. “And why not?”
“We have received no new information.”
And they won’t.
Because there is no new information to receive.
Although her being here…in…fucking…town…and us unaware is new information.
Why weren’t we alerted?
Why didn’t Garcia or Zero let us fucking know?
Do they know?
How do they not know?
They’re supposed to be keeping tabs on her and her husband.
My eyes steal a brief glimpse of the earpiece wearing male I have no doubt is not her husband.
Nah.
He’s paid muscle.
Bit of an upgrade from the mercs they initially sent hunting our woman but still.
Definitely a gun for hire.
“And have you went looking for new information?” interrogates the thin figured woman wearing a long, gray, rabbit skinned fur coat. “Or have you been too busy building tree forts around town with Deputy Dufus’s future replacement here?”
Ludwig gives a small suck to his teeth, does his best to politely grin, and motions his head towards the main room. “I’m gonna get to saltin’ the walkway.”
“Thanks,” is muttered in a dismissing nature prior to him resuming his conversation with the woman responsible for creating a literal monster. “Beverly-”