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“You okay, boss?” Shawn whispered from the seat next to me. “Don’t feel like you need to stick around to make me more comfortable. Your friends seem awesome.”
I opened my mouth to say they weren’t really my friends yet, but I realized that wasn’t exactly true. I’d been in Aster Valley for almost six months, and I’d known these guys for at least four of them. Even though we’d originally met through a case when I’d been a new deputy in town, these guys had gone out of their way to include me in social events ever since.
When was I going to think of myself as one of them?
I met Truman’s eyes from across the table. He frowned and mouthed, “You okay?”
I nodded quickly and turned to Shawn. “No, sorry, just feeling ornery about the meeting I have with the show runner out at the Gold Rats set in the morning. I’ll be fine. Besides, Crystobell Edmund and Logan Shaw were able to do a casual signing outside the cafe the other day without creating a crowd problem. Maybe this film situation won’t be as bad as I keep expecting. Maybe last night’s encounter was the worst of it.”
But I knew that was wishful thinking. Thankfully, Gent’s uncle Doran piped up to change the subject.
“Now, what’s this I hear about your big emergency callout today?” the older man asked with a snicker. His thick, white mustache quivered with excitement. “If I recall correctly, you said something about wanting a slower pace of life, more natural beauty, and a town full of nice, genuine people. Tell us about rescuing Coleman Harrow from a rabid grizzly squirrel. Seems to me you got the trifecta all in that one case…”
The stress banding my shoulder muscles broke apart as I remembered the mountain man’s high-pitched calls for help.
“Be careful what you wish for,” I said through my laughter after giving them the basics of the story. “If the rest of my cases can be that straightforward, I’ll be a happy sheriff.”
Shawn clapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, boss. I’ll take the dangerous ones off your shoulders. You handle the squirrels, and if that Jolly raccoon ever gets moody, just know I’ve got your back.”
We spent a couple more hours in good company, laughing, eating, and drinking before promising Tiller we would guard his fiancé with our lives while Tiller was in Houston.
When Shawn and I left everyone and headed back to the SUV, he asked why Mikey just didn’t go back to Houston with Tiller for the season.
“Someone needs to stay here and keep an eye on the cast and crew who are renting their lodge and the chalets on their property,” I explained. “In case something happens.”
Shawn shrugged. “They’re all professionals and adults. What do they think would happen while they were gone?”
I remembered the raging house party my partner had been called out to one night in Santa Monica. “Finn Heller is known for throwing out-of-control house parties,” I said. It was the understatement of the year. “And after all of the work Mikey, Tiller, and Sam have put into renovating the property, I’m sure they don’t want to see it destroyed by drunken dilettantes who have no respect for other people’s…” I realized my bias was showing. “Anyway. I get why they’d want to keep an eye out, but I know Sam has offered to watch over it for them, too.”
Shawn looked over at me. “Your friends are good people. Thank you for including me tonight. You didn’t have to do that, but I really appreciate it.”
I nodded and mumbled something to acknowledge his gratitude. They were good people, and I felt as fortunate as he did to know them.
“I remember how I felt when I first moved to town,” I told him. “It’s not easy to make the leap from deputy to friend with the locals, but once you do, you learn how great the people of Aster Valley are. Genuine, kind, and helpful. One of the few places I’ve ever found where you can be accepted as your true self without putting on an act.”
Which was a concept the Finn Hellers of the world would never understand.
2
Finn
“This fucking cabin is like being on set at a remake of Little House on the Fucking Prairie,” Kix said, flicking the corner of a patchwork quilt that lay over the back of the small love seat.
He was right. The “chalet” they’d put me up in was pretty rustic, but I could tell it had been recently renovated. Most of the fittings were brand-new and fairly high-end, but the decor was homey and welcoming. Not exactly what Kix was used to back in his luxury apartment on Sunset Boulevard, but I kind of liked it. It wasn’t the cold, ultra-modern style so many people had back home with hard angles, steel and concrete surfaces, and neutral grays.
