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Then the phone rang and did it for him. “Call from Enclave Sheriff. Call from Enclave Sheriff.”
* * * *
Zane entered the Enclave Sheriff’s Department for the second time in less than a week. The only churning in his belly this time was one of anger at being disrupted from spending the day in bed with Abigail. And Duke was about to receive a wrath-filled earful as a consequence.
If they were going to arrest him for simply having his name on a piece of paper, he had plenty to say. Zane passed by a harried-looking guy in a cheap suit. In one hand the guy grasped a battered briefcase and in the other a phone. He whispered earnestly into the mouthpiece as if the end of days had come, but he still had minutes left on his cell phone plan about to be wasted forever.
“Where’s Duke?” Zane asked Deputy Higgins, who was the only law officer visible in the sheriff’s station.
Higgins didn’t look up when he said, “Out.”
Zane was surprisingly let down. That was not the answer he expected. “Any idea when he’ll be back?”
“Nope.”
If it hadn’t been for the cryptic message Duke had left while he’d been busy with Abigail, Zane might not have even come in. His only words, “I need to talk to you about something, Zane. Call me or come find me at the sheriff’s station.”
“Could I leave him a message?”
Higgins rose slowly from his desk and walked over to the counter dividing the room and shielding several desks. “Sure, Zane. What do you want to tell him?”
From right behind him the harried man in the cheap suit with the cell phone said, “Are you Zane Washburn?”
Zane glanced over his shoulder in surprise and said, “Fuck. What’s it to you?”
He repeated, “Are you Zane Washburn? If so, I have something for you.”
He exhaled sharply. “Fine. What do you have for me?”
The man handed him a folded piece of paper and said with a smile, “You’ve been served.” He then strolled out whistling a happy tune.
Zane turned to Higgins. “What the fuck was that?”
Higgins only shrugged and sat back down. Zane was about to leap over the counter and leave his message to the sheriff written across Higgins’ cheek in permanent marker, but Duke strolled into the office. He stepped up next to Zane at the counter and asked, “Did I just see that process server guy leaving?”
Higgins nodded. “Yep. He served Zane and skedaddled.”
Duke pushed out a sigh. He turned to Zane. “Sorry. I tried to let you know it was coming, but I couldn’t find you.”
“I’ve been otherwise occupied. And you should have left a better message.”
He shrugged. “Didn’t want to have to hunt you down if you planned to run for it.”
“Very amusing.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not the one who swore he’d never darken the door of a sheriff’s office ever. In my opinion, you brought this lightning strike down all on your own.”
“Whatever.” Zane opened the document and scanned it quickly. “Do you know what this paper says, Duke?”
He nodded. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
Zane handed him the subpoena requesting his appearance as a witness for the prosecution against one Abigail Dixon in Miser, Montana.
“Any advice?”
“I’d go to them before they call you.”
“Why?”
“Because they’ll want to bring you in right before court starts and test out what you’ll say on the stand. They can’t coach you obviously, but I guarantee you that they’ll want a preview of your testimony. Perhaps you could go early and discover what they want to know based on what they ask you.”
Zane nodded. “Thanks, Duke.”
“Listen. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize something peculiar is going on with this matter involving your new friend, Abigail.” Zane focused his shocked and very direct attention on Duke’s face. The unspoken question as to the sheriff’s interest surely shone in Zane’s gaze.
Duke pushed out a long sigh. “Don’t get your back up. I spent a bit of time with Ms. Dixon here in my jail, and she seems like a very fine person. In my opinion, she’s also completely undeserving of this complication in her life. My gut says she’s being railroaded. Don’t know by who, and can’t prove it anyway. But I’m on your side, Zane. Just wanted you to know that.”
