He winced. “Well, I haven’t exactly told him flattering stories about you…”
I stood, needing to get out of there. Because if I didn’t, I was either going to start obsessing about what this all meant, or turn Rick into a toad again.
“Thanks for being fair about the divorce.”
“It’s the least I could do.”
Yeah, Rick, yeah it is.
Chapter Nine
Daniel
“What a pain in the ass,” I muttered as I shook Sheriff Danvers’s hand. The tow truck had just left with my own truck, the chains hooked under the front bumper and the whole thing secured so it just coasted on the back wheels. At least I wasn’t hurt. Perk of being a shifter. I would’ve been pretty damn banged and bruised up if I’d been human, but I was already fine. I wasn't sure my truck would be salvageable, but at least I was.
“Come on,” Danvers said. “I’ll give you a lift to the mechanic.”
I gave him all the information I had, which wasn’t much. I’d barely seen the car, other than it being small and silver. There weren’t any tracks on the ground and by the time I’d stopped somewhat safely in the huge ditch, nearly a ravine, their scent had faded.
Danvers dropped me off at the mechanic right behind my truck. I’d called on the way and my buddy who owned the shop, Joel, was going to let me borrow one of his old trucks while he fixed mine. And he did mean old.
It was a brown that could only have been found in the fifties or sixties with a thick cream stripe down the sides that had probably been white at one point. Instead of sitting high like most pickups these days did, this thing was almost a low rider. The bench seat was covered in what was essentially corduroy and while there was a seatbelt it looked like it had been a later addition to the truck. The bed swooped out from the cab and looked more like an afterthought than something that was designed to be functional.
Danvers leaned against the driver's side window of my loaner and rubbed his eyes in a way I recognized all too well. It was the exhaustion of being constantly worried, the weight of being sheriff that rested across his shoulders and his mind at night, making sleep difficult to find and maintain. I adjusted the mirrors and everything so I could actually see and drive safely. Sure, I have shifter reflexes, but even those aren't enough once you're going fast enough and I wasn't about to have any other lives on my conscience. “This town has had some bad luck with car accidents, and I’m about sick of working them. You’re damn lucky you didn’t hit one of those trees before you were able to slow down or this would’ve been a very different day.”
Joel nodded and they kept discussing the wrecks, but I sort of tuned them out. I could feel myself mechanically nodding along at the right times. The truth was the last thing I wanted to think about was when my wife and best friend died. Or Emma’s parents for that matter. There were more than that, but those were the ones I’d personally known. Joel and Danvers were right though, our town had more than its fair share of accidents, and in turn deaths. I never understood why. The only thing people ever seemed to blame was the mountain roads.
“A real tragedy, what happened to Thomas and Sarah,” Joel muttered.
Thomas and Sarah's names caught my ear. Joel had known my wife as well, so he knew how much car accidents hit home for me. “We should grab a beer together sometime.” It would be nice to start actually connecting with people again and stop punishing myself for their deaths. I wasn't guilty of anything, I couldn't even claim survivors guilt, and yet that's what it felt like, like I should have died in that accident with them.
Joel grinned at me, blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “You buyin’?”
I snorted and smiled back, forcing my face to do what I needed it to even if my brain didn't feel like it after everything that had happened and thinking about all the deaths that had touched my life. “Why not?” I could do this whole friendship thing. It wasn't a completely foreign concept to me, just a muscle I hadn't really stretched in a long time.
I circled the truck so I could head out going the right direction, when Danvers shouted, “Hey, hang on, fellas.” I braked and put it back in park. “What’s up?” I asked leaning out of the open window to look behind me as I tried to follow Danvers' gaze.
“Something’s leaking.”
That was all I needed to hear to have me turning the truck off and getting out. Whatever it was had to have just happened. If I knew one thing it was that Joel wouldn't put me in a faulty truck.
Joel bent over and swiped his finger through the liquid dripping from behind the truck’s tire. “That’s brake fluid,” he said. “Shit, Danny, I’m sorry. Here we were talking about wrecks and I would’ve sent you out in a truck that would’ve caused one.”
I backed up, so Joel didn't think I was crowding him, and shook my head. “It’s like fate is out to get me.”
Damn. Had I done something to piss Emma off? I wracked my brain, but couldn’t think of anything that would get her upset enough to set her magic on me. Maybe it was one of the witches? I'd certainly seen some strange things lately, and that's saying something.
“Come on,” Danvers said. “I’ll drive the squad car home tonight. You can borrow my truck for a few days while Joel here tries his best to bring yours back to life.”
They slapped each other on the back and teased a little bit more, then I got back in the squad car we'd pulled up in. Danvers got in next to me and rolled down his window, waving goodbye to Joel as we pulled out of the lot and headed toward the center of town where the station and Danvers' truck were. I would have offered to take the squad car, but even though I'd been on the force for a while I doubted they'd be comfortable letting me use something like that.
“Is there anyone at all who could have a beef with you?” Danvers asked for the third time once we were back on the road. “What about the alpha?”
I shook my head. “I’m not saying it’s impossible, but I don’t think so. The kid wouldn’t react like that.” I couldn't believe it was Nathan, even if I had shown him a little tough love, it wasn't like the kid was vindictive, plus I didn't think he'd know his brake line from his transmission.
Danvers grunted. He wasn’t so convinced. We pulled into the police station just down the road and I got his keys. “Thanks, man. I really appreciate it and I’ll try my best not to let anyone run me off the road in this one.”
The joke fell a little flat. We both knew that if someone wanted me dead they wouldn't be waiting until I had my own truck again.
