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“Why wasn’t he recalled? Or whatever happens to bad sheriffs.”
“Rexville has an archaic governing system, a remnant of its odd history, which is probably the only complicated thing about it. Garrison was hired by the previous mayor, and I think there were a lot of older people who were loyal to him. Those people who live in the past and like to think of Rexville as Maybury RFD, complete with little-town problems. The truth is, we are starting to have big-town problems and Garrison ignored them.”
“Ugh. Meth?”
Royce nodded again, taking a sip of his beer before answering.
“Drugs, squatters, vandals. Jordan and I had to install a high-tech security system for the garage because it kept getting broken into for scrap metal. Garrison would give the kids a warning and they would be back at it by nightfall. Not that they should get a life sentence, but something more of a deterrent would have been good.”
Rexville had had similar crimes when Briar had lived there, so a lot of this wasn’t new. Maybe Garrison had been in someone’s pocket—like the prior mayor.
“That sucks.” She watched another diner eat their fries and her stomach practically roared.
Royce pretended he hadn’t heard it. “So, ATF. Do you like it?”
Briar nodded, thinking about her last assignment. “For the most part. Like everything, the organization has its challenging moments. I’ve been with them since I was twenty-three, might be time for a change. What about you, did you like the Army?”
Her current supervisor had casually dropped the idea of permanently moving to his team. Briar had brushed it off at first but she was starting to think that maybe she should think about it. The FBI could be a good change and living in the Skagit area wasn’t the worst choice she could make.
“I did. It was just time for me to retire and come home, almost twenty years was long enough.”
They chatted until their food arrived, classic seventies music playing over the speakers. Briar found herself tapping her toe to “Me and Bobby McGee” and other songs she remembered from some of the happier times at Tor’s and later when she lived with Julianna. She was surprised how easy talking with Royce was—she absolutely had not expected this. He’s not just a pretty face, he’s smart too. Briar repressed a chuckle, catching Royce’s gaze again just as their server set the two orders of wings and a side of tater tots on the table.
“Would you like another cider?” the server asked, a little snippy.
Briar nodded. It had been a long week and it was only Wednesday.
They kept talking while they ate, Royce even sharing a few stories from when he was in the Army. Mostly they were funny, idiots getting caught doing idiot things. He mentioned that he’d been overseas as well, and Briar suspected he’d seen a lot more than he could tell her. Briar knew that the CID investigated crimes committed by troops in all the armed services.
Soon enough, their plates and glasses were empty. Royce insisted on paying the check and Briar didn’t feel like arguing about it. Outside, it was still raining, the cloud cover so heavy that even the moon was obscured.
“I’ll pick you up around eight tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. Thanks for dinner.”
Royce strode off toward the auto shop and Briar let herself watch him for a moment.
“Nope, nope, nope,” she muttered as she dashed across the highway to the motel. “Do not even go there.” Her brain ignored her, however, and even as she crawled under the hideously pink covers, the image of Royce’s broad shoulders, narrow hips, and intelligent gaze refused to be banished.
