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“Not a bad thing, having a preacher in the family.”
“No, it’s a good thing. Just wish it wasn’t my family.”
Trapper motioned toward the spiked cup of coffee. “I don’t think that’s going to fool anybody.”
“Like I give a flying you-know-what. This is my house, and I’m the law around here, so I’ll have me some sour mash, thank you. Pour yourself one.”
“No thanks. I’ve gotta drive back to Fort Worth.”
Glenn and The Major had been boyhood friends, had gone through twelve grades virtually inseparable, then had roomed together for four years at A & M. Out of college, The Major joined the army. Glenn returned to their hometown, ran for sheriff and won. He’d held the office ever since, usually running for reelection unopposed.
“The faithful have outdone the dessert buffet at Golden Corral,” he said, indicating the array of Tupperware containers on the countertop. “Help yourself. Those brownies are good. Linda made them.”
“How’s she?” Trapper asked of the sheriff’s wife.
“Goes to the gym now. Zumba classes. Tries to get me there.”
“No luck?”
“Wouldn’t be caught dead.” The older man eyed him up and down. “You could use a shave. And a haircut. Boot shine wouldn’t hurt. Have those blue jeans ever met an iron?”
“No, and they never will.”
“You got a girl yet?”
“Had one Saturday night.”
The sheriff frowned with disapproval. “You need a wife, kids.”
“Like I need leprosy.”
“The Major would like some grandkids.”
He tossed the statement out there like a gauntlet. Trapper let it lie for a beat or two, then said, “Not by me.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
Trapper shrugged with feigned indifference. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not making babies.”
“You didn’t come to town bearing an olive branch, then.”
“No. I bore something a little more…troublesome.”
Glenn’s gray eyebrows wrinkled. “To who?”
“To you, Sheriff Addison.”
Glenn picked up the whiskey bottle and held it tilted above his cup. “Am I gonna need another hit of this?”
“’Fraid so.”
The sheriff poured a generous portion into his coffee cup and took a swig. “What’s going on?”
“You ever heard of Kerra Bailey?”
“The girl on TV?”
“How is it everybody has heard of her but me?” Trapper muttered. But he knew why. Except for ESPN, he avoided most television programming. He avoided news in particular, half afraid of what might be on it one of these nights.
