“Yeah, all good. We had a few issues with those crazy Finlay's but Tank bashed their heads together and that seemed to settle them down.”
“I’ll wait to hear the full version of events. We’ll have a debrief when Tank and Rick get in.” Cubby looked at the clock. “Which should be about now.”
They came in arguing like they most often did. Rick was young, only nineteen, and Tank in his thirties. Both were locals who could talk from sunup to sundown.
“Boys.” Cubby shook hands. “I have a meeting scheduled here in thirty minutes, but before that you can run through what’s happened in my absence.
The list of grievances against the Finlay brothers wasn’t unusual, just annoying, and he’d have to go out to their place and have a talk, like he had many times before. They were jobless, alcohol-fueled idiots who had too much time on their hands to think up new ways to piss him off.
“Slow learners,” he muttered, which made his deputies laugh.
“Okay, I need you to read these now.” Cubby handed out the papers he’d printed off about the Alessis. “Katie McBride is one of Howling’s citizens,” he said for Brady’s benefit. “Dr. McBride Jr.’s sister, and a cop in LA. She was involved in a shooting while taking part in a raid on the Alessi brothers’ warehouse, where it was believed there was a huge shipment of drugs. One of them died, and they’re not happy about it. They put out a $100,000 reward for any information about the shooting, especially any police survivors and who fired the shot that killed their brother. Be vigilant; if you see anything, report it to me directly, and don’t tell anyone she’s here, but more importantly do not discuss this with anyone.”
“She get hurt?” Brady said, looking at the paper in his hand.
“Just damaged her wrist, but there were plenty of deaths on both sides.”
Cubby answered a few more questions and then dismissed everyone. Jake and Ethan walked in five minutes later, empty-handed, which raised Cubby’s brow. “Thought we had a deal?”
“The domestic goddess is bringing the food and coffee,” Jake said, before falling into one of his chairs, where he proceeded to yawn loudly.
“Amazing how a sweet bundle like Rosie can bring a grown man to his knees.”
“She was awake every couple of hours last night, Tex, and sweet doesn’t begin to cover how I felt about her at 3:00 a.m.”
“And then she gives you a gummy smile and you melt,” Cubby said, stapling several pieces of paper together.
“Pretty much. Katie cried when she held her.”
“Bet she did,” he said, ignoring the stab of pain Jake’s words had caused.
“Silent tears, Cubby, not loud ones like she used to. She just held Rose really close and wept; nearly broke my fucking heart.”
Jake was mean when he was tired; they’d all witnessed it plenty of times during their lives. He was a man who needed six hours minimum. Cubby eyed his friend’s stubble and the bloodshot eyes and thought about what he was going to tell him. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t improve the new daddy’s mood any.
“She’s not the little sister who left here, Jake, and you can’t expect her to be, even considering what happened.”
“I know it.” Jake sighed. “Just struggling like the folks to come to terms with it, I guess.”
“Yo.” Buster Griffin arrived next, loaded down with coffee cups and baked goods. He owned the Hoot café. Not as tall as the others, he had short spiky hair, the demeanor of a cantankerous aunt, and the heart of marshmallow. On his heels was Paul Theodore Newman. His blond curls were all over the place and hadn’t seen a brush in days. No one looking at the man would believe he was some whiz kid hotshot who purchased failing businesses and made them prosper. His temperament meant he’d handled the name his parents had thoughtfully given him, which was just as well because he’d come up for some serious teasing at school.
Everyone settled into seats, all dressed in variations of their “uniform,” of jeans, worn shorts and t-shirts, and caps. Cubby added a work shirt in khaki and a cap with the word Sheriff on it.
“How was the trip, Cubby?” Buster said. “You learn lots of policing to bring back to our little town so you can keep us safe?”
“I learned I need to be downright fuckin’ mean when a friend brings me coffee without sugar,” Cubby said, flipping the lid and dumping in several spoonfuls.
“I’m thinking of your thickening waistline.”
“My waist is just fine, baker boy. Now, if you girls are ready, I need you to concentrate, because this is serious.”
Cubby suddenly had all eyes on him.
“Those Finlays been causing you trouble again?”
“Yup, but it’s not them I want to talk about right now,” Cubby said to Newman, who was lounging in a hard-backed chair and making it look like a recliner. The man could relax anywhere. “Not sure if everyone is up to speed, so if it’s okay with Jake I’ll run through the situation so far?”
“Katie told me about the incident with her hand, and the shooting, but other than that I didn’t know anything was going on, Sheriff, so that may be best.” His friend’s eyes were now narrowed to slits; lucky Cubby knew he was a pushover.
