Page 91 of Diamonds in the Mud

Did Rayne’s authority run to this county? Shit. As with all the times before when I’d ended up in situations like this, my cover was too deep to break. Even now.

“Hands where I can see them!” a voice boomed over a megaphone, cutting through the chaos of the fight, while light blinded us all. Rayne and I exchanged a glance, both knowing that we needed to comply.

“Shit,” the last big guy who was still standing said under his breath. Then he kicked his buddy in the ribs. “Wake up, Earl,” he said as he slowly lifted his hands.

Slowly, Rayne and I raised our hands.

I knew that if word of me and Rayne getting arrested got back to the Reapers, it could be the end of my mission.

As the officers closed in on us, their weapons drawn and their faces grim, I couldn’t help but wonder how we had ended up in this mess. All we had wanted was to find answers, to bring justice to those who deserved it. To a high school kid who had gotten involved with the wrong people.

“I’m police,” Rayne said. “I can show you my⁠—”

“Don’t matter,” the officer said. “I know who you are. You’re in my county now.” The man yanked Rayne’s arms behind her. “You can’t just come into my home and make a mess.” He glanced over at the still-conscious man. “Bobby, get Earl and head on home.”

This was bad, really bad. We were just trying to do our jobs, but now it looked like we were the ones in trouble and the two real crooks were going to walk free. Rayne’s eyes met mine and we knew we were in it deep.

As the officers took us into custody, I made a silent vow to myself—we would get through this, no matter what. Even if it meant the end of my assignment, we’d come out of whatever hillbilly, bullshit, crooked-cop crap we’d just stepped in. Together.

Several hours later, and after a few new bruises were given to me by my arresting officers, I walked out of the station with Rayne.

“You okay?” she asked, eyeing me.

“Yup,” I said, holding in a groan. I nodded to where Randy Cordova stood leaning against his car, watching us.

“It looks like you two stepped in it pretty bad this time,” Randy said, running his eyes over me. “Anything broken?” he asked.

I shook my head. “My pride.”

“I’m guessing those were Sheriff Dupont’s sons that jumped us?” Rayne groaned.

Randy nodded. “Yup. How about I take you two to breakfast?” He motioned towards his car. “I’m afraid your Jeep got towed. They’ll hold it until Monday,” he told Rayne. “Probably charge you an extra couple hundred to get it out, just because you’re mine.” He wrapped his arm around Rayne for a moment. “Next time you come out here, give me a heads up.”

Rayne sighed and held onto her father. “Yeah, I thought we could slip under the radar. I had no clue it was the Dupont brothers that jumped Jameson. I haven’t seen them in years. They’ve gotten a lot bigger. I guess I should have known.”

As we climbed into Randy’s car, the early morning sun cast long shadows across the empty streets of the small town. It appeared that every cop in this county wanted to use me as a punching bag. I could honestly say I was going to be happy to leave the town behind us.

Relief washed over me as I breathed in the fresh air. I climbed in the car, grateful for Randy’s timely intervention.

“Thanks for bailing us out,” I said.

Randy started up the car and glanced in the mirror at me. “No problem at all,” he replied, his voice gruff but friendly. “This will be a bitch to keep quiet though. You might have to rearrange a few things. There’s no keeping this from the Reapers. Several of them are from Madison County.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “It will probably move up my timeline.” I sighed, too tired to focus on what it meant beyond the moment.

As we headed out of town, I noticed that everyone was just beginning to stir awake, the quiet hum of morning traffic filling the air.

On the outskirts of the little town, we pulled over to a gas station that had a small dinner.

The place was a quaint little place with its neon sign flickering invitingly in the early morning fog. As we stepped inside, the smell of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee enveloped us, making my stomach growl in anticipation.

Much like at the bar the night before, when we walked in, everyone turned to watch us.

“Clayton folks don’t get along much with Gemsville folks,” Randy said under his breath. “Still, they won’t mess with me.” He smiled as he led us to a booth in the corner. As I sat down, I tried not to groan as pain shot through my ribs. What I needed was an ice pack, a few aspirin, and sleep.

Randy wasted no time in getting down to business after ordering his coffee.

“So, what the hell happened back there?” he asked, his brow furrowed with concern. “All I heard was that you two got into some trouble with the sheriff’s boys.”