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)
“Mrs.” she bites in a merciless tone. “McAdams.”
“Forgive me,” Post promptly pleads. “Mrs. McAdams, I understand your current state of distress-”
“Do you?” Her two steps forward reverberate around the narrow hall. “Do you know what it’s like to have your child…the person you brought into this world…the person you love most in this world…the person you simply exist for…disappear without a trace?”
Creepy.
Fucking. Creepy.
Clearly that shit runs in their DNA.
“No, ma’am, I do not.”
Another stomp towards us is taken. “Do you know what it’s like to have more questions than answers regarding your only child’s…your greatest ally’s whereabouts?”
Telling choice of words, if I do say so myself.
“No, ma’am, I do not.”
“Do you have any idea how miserable it feels not knowing whether they’re dead or alive?”
It takes every urge in me not to smirk.
She deserves this.
She deserves this and so much more for what she let her son do and for whatever the fuck she helped him do to Rabbit.
We don’t talk much about it.
But we know it’s bad.
Disturbingly bad.
“No, ma’am, I do not.”
“Then don’t you dare try to tell me you understand my feelings.”
He gingerly lifts his hands in surrender a second time. “I didn’t mean any disrespect, Mrs. McAdams.”
“It seems that’s all you’ve done since I’ve been in this godforsaken shit hole.”
There isn’t time for him to respond.
“I gave you clear and concise evidence that he came here-”
“You gave me circumstantial evidence at best, ma’am,” Post surprisingly corrects.
“I provided you with statements from witnesses indicating this was his destination.”
“Yes, but the online investigation we conducted indicates it was not.”
“His car was located at a lot just one town over!”
“Which happens more often than one might realize.” All of a sudden, he gives me a small nudge. “Tell her, Nolan. You do most of the towin’ around here.”
At that her vision slowly cuts to me.
Slices.
Dices.
Does everything it can to intimidate me more than likely aware of who I am.
“Oh?” Her light eyebrows critically lift. “Is that so?”
Despite her efforts, my position nor demeanor shifts. “Yes.”
“Did you tow my son’s car?”
“I’m unaware of who your son is, and I’m also unaware of the date you’re questioning as you have not mentioned one.”
The corner of her lip twitches in the slightest. “Brad.”
Just the sound of that asshole’s name feels like a screwdriver between the ribs.
“Brad. McAdams.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” emotionlessly leaves me.
“City boy,” Post and I momentarily meet gazes, the slow blink indicating he knows exactly who the fucker is. “Came around these parts for a solo vacation-”
“He would never take a solo vacation!”
“Near Christmas.”
“Which is something he would’ve wanted to spend with me! I’m his whole world!”
“Went campin’-”
“He would never go camping! It’s disgusting!”
“And no one’s seen him since.” Post’s other hand is casually shoved into his pocket. “Mrs. McAdams came in searching for information a couple days ago at which time I gave her everything I knew about the situation.”
Not a blatant lie.
He’s aware of who McAdams is.
What he’s done to an extent.
What he’s capable of to another.
He also believes Rabbit is one of our town’s and we protect our own.
That trumps all other bullshit.
“Weren’t you off around Christmas?” The casual inquiry from him has me nodding. “Somethin’ was wrong with the truck, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.” My stare shifts back to hers. “Couldn’t tow shit at the time even if I wanted to.”
Disbelief lingers in her unyielding glare.
“As I previously mentioned,” Post calmly recaptures the conversation, “camping out in these woods without a guide isn’t illegal, just highly unrecommended due to the dangers that lurk.” The subtle undertone of his statement once more threatens to have me grinning. “Much like trying to rely on a regular phone versus a sat, something a guide – had he chosen to have one – would’ve had for worst case scenarios.”
Her increasingly narrowing vision only sparks more humor for me.
“If you would like, I can have a couple of volunteers from the county conduct a courtesy search of the potential areas in which Brad might’ve ventured into-”
“Yes,” she bitterly insists prior to gesturing to the guard behind her, “and I will supply several of my own to aid in his retrieval.”
“However,” Post firmly interjects, “such search will have to wait until after the winter storm has fully passed as guaranteeing the health and safety of the people of my town are always and will always be my top priority.”
His less than subtle reminder successfully gets me to smile.
That’s exactly what he’s doing right now.
Protecting us and whatever it is he thinks we’ve done.
“Fine…” Beverly nefariously concedes, speech slow. Menacing. “Just remember that I tried to do things the nice way, Sheriff.”
Chapter 16
Kipp
I hate wrapping pipes, but I love laying it.
Ha.
I’m gonna be such a good dad.
I’ve already got enough jokes to take home an F1 style trophy.
Maybe I should get myself a “Best Dad Joke” mug for work?