“You’ve been out for how long now?”
Makai was pretty sure the man knew to the hour but indulged him anyway. “About five weeks.”
“Are you going to work or…?”
“I have some carpentry skills, but I don’t really have any solid plans.” Then, because he knew the logical jump from that from the law’s point of view, he added, “Right now, though, I can pretty much renovate the cottage and live off the compensation for a while if I’m frugal.”
Sheriff Newman nodded slowly. “You were a student when you were convicted?”
“I was twenty. I’d decided to work for an extra year or two before going to college, but yeah. I had no actual job skills, other than helping out at a local diner sometimes and stocking the shelves at a grocery store.”
“I guess you learned the carpentry in prison, then?” The sheriff leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers across his stomach that was flatter than Makai would’ve expected for a fiftysomething small-town sheriff.
“Yeah, it was the skill that seemed useful for me at the time. Then I just kept doing it, I guess.” Makai shrugged. “My father was Native Hawai’ian, so I tried to incorporate some of that into what I learned. Carvings and stuff, I mean.”Ten years was a long time to learn how to make chairs. You needed to spice it up a little.
“Well, I won’t comment on what I think about your conviction and exoneration. That’s not my business.” The weight of his opinion hung between them anyway, and Makai could feel the disapproval radiating from the man. “All I expect from you is the biweekly meetings and to keep your nose clean.”
“Of course. I don’t want back inside more than you want me here,” Makai blurted out, then almost swallowed his tongue when he realized what he’d just said.
The sheriff’s eyes widened, but a spark of humor entered his expression, and he just shook his head without a comment on Makai’s blunder. “Why don’t you get the next appointment time from Deputy Peters, and we’ll see you in two weeks?”
“Yes, sir.” Makai got up, shook the man’s hand, and escaped the office before he could do more harm.
A male deputy around Makai’s age sat at one of the desks he had to pass. The guy gave him a polite nod yet still managed to look suspicious. Great.
Makai went out of the gate and rounded the column to talk to Deputy Peters.
“I was told to reserve an appointment for two weeks from now,” he said, even though he guessed that she already knew this.
“Right, okay… let’s see,” she murmured and started to flip through an appointment book. “Every two weeks, right?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s a good guy,” she said quietly, and Makai blinked at her. She never took her gaze off the book in front of her, but she continued to speak. “I think you’re here to live in peace. You went through something horrible, and I want to apologize.”
“Nothing you did,” Makai managed to say, feeling almost choked up. This wasn’t what he’d expected to hear.
“No, but I’m part of the system that wronged you. He’s trying to keep the town safe, so he gets to be suspicious. Okay, how’s Thursday around one in the afternoon?” Now she looked at him, her expression almost gentle.
“Yeah, can you make a note for me?” He pointed at the multicolored Post-its next to a mug with some pens in it.
“Sure.” She was young, twenty-five, if that. She seemed like a good woman, and Makai could use some goodness from law enforcement. “Here.”
He picked the pink note from her fingers and smiled tightly. “Thank you.”
“Do you need any directions for anything?” she asked, smiling back at him.
“Uh….” He gave it some thought and finally sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know. When I get to the cottage, I’ll know what the situation there is. Food is probably what I need the most right now, stuff to hold me over.”
Deputy Peters smiled. “Yeah, I can understand that. Here….” She grabbed a blank sheet of paper from the printer by her desk and started to sketch him a makeshift map, pointing out key spots.
“So, we’re here. You’ll be living about five miles outside of town. Not that there’s much town here in Acker,” she said, grinning. “But if you take this road here and drive about thirty minutes, you come to Mercer. Now that’s where all the good places are. You can get a bunch of stuff from there. It’s better than you’d think.”
“Is Acker part of Mercer?”
“No, we’re a bit weirdly off the side of it. The Sheriff’s Station is here because we take care of the surrounding small communities in the county. Mercer has their own thing with their immediate neighbors.”
“Oh, okay.” It made sense. “So, go there for groceries?” He pointed at a shop she’d emphasized on having the best deals in Mercer.
