“Gotcha. See ya soon.”
He hangs up.
Mick collects me in an ancient sedan. When he pulls into the lot at the bus station, he turns to me.
“Bethany. I'm going to ask one question. Are you safe? You’re trembling back there, hon.”
I think about it. “Yes.”
“Then it's none of my business. Six dollars.”
I give him a twenty and tell him not to give me change.
The bus terminal has a single room and a broken vending machine, with a paper timetable pinned to a bulletin board. The next bus is in twenty-eight minutes.
I sit on the bench and put my head in my hands.
I've been keeping my emotions down since I picked up the pen at the kitchen counter, but now it all comes flooding out. I let the tears come, quietly. I learned to be quiet when I cried about my parents’ death, but my brother was downstairs working late on his laptop because he had to keep us housed. Showing how I felt would be selfish.
I'm still crying when the cruiser pulls into the lot.
I see it before I hear it. A black-and-white SUV with the High Vale Sheriff's Department in cream letters across the door. It rolls into one of the painted spaces and the engine cuts. The man who gets out has an easy, confident walk.
“Evening, ma'am.”
I dry my eyes with the back of my wrist. “Evening.”
“Aren't you Striker's gal? Bethany.”
“That's me.” Viv certainly made good on her promise to tell the whole town.
“Just stopping for a coffee from the machine inside, then I saw you out here. You all right?”
“Yes, sir. The machine is broken.”
“Oh darn. You sure you’re okay?”
I keep my voice level. “Just going to visit some family.”
“Where?”
“Talbury.” I’d seen the stop on the timetable inside.
He crosses his arms. “Helluva way for a young woman to travel alone after dark.”
“My aunt's expecting me.”
The sheriff walks over and sits down on the bench beside me. He stretches his legs out in front of him, an arm along the back of the bench, the other resting on his knee. He smells like cologne and coffee.
“Congratulations on your engagement, by the way,” he says.
“Thank you.” I want him to leave me alone, but he doesn’t.
“Don't mind me asking. You're a long way from your fiancé tonight.”
“We had a fight.”
“Ah.” He nods to himself. “Lord knows I've had a few of those. Wife's run off to her sister's twice this year. I tell you what, every time she comes back I'm the happier man for it.”
