Oh yes, this news would spread through this town like wildfire.
“Not here,” she said to Johns, giving him what she hoped was a pleading expression, putting on a show for the staff.
Johns searched around, then with a hand on Addie’s lower back, ushered her toward the back of the open space—toward the sheriff’s office.
Lane’soffice.
Once the door was safely shut behind them, Johns’ fingers found her chin, tilting her face this way and that, assessing the damage.
“You didn’t pull any punches,” he said with a laugh.
Addie chuckled. “I’m okay,” she assured him.
His thumb brushed the split in her bottom lip, and Addie’s eyes fluttered closed. It wasn’t the touch she needed—at least, not from the person she needed it from—but she allowed herself the brief indulgence. The gentle caress was nice.
“Make the call,” she said. “But remember, be cool or they’ll just take off.”
“I know, I know,” Johns said, getting his phone out of his pocket and dialing a number, putting it on speaker as it rang, lifting his finger to his lips to keep Addie quiet.
She rolled her eyes. She knew exactly how to play this. It was, after all, her idea. Johns was but a pawn on her chess board.
At last, a deep voice answered. “Hey, Johns. Everything okay?”
Addie’s eyes fluttered closed, and she allowed Lane’s voice to wash over her like warm, soothing honey. Nothing managed to calm her down quite like he did.
“Hey, Sheriff. Yeah, everything is fine. Is Sutton with you by chance? I’ve got an update.”
“Yeah, she’s here. You want us to come in?”
Addie vehemently shook her head. No, she wanted this to happen in front of Lane’s family, wanted them to be aware of what kind of woman their son was associating with—even if it was all a lie carefully curated by Addie. Addie wanted this whole goddamn town to turn on Sutton, wanted her to be viewed as the villain Addie knew she was.
“Nah, I’ll come to you. You guys at home?”
“No, the ranch.”
“Great, see you soon.”
When Johns disconnected, he grinned at her. “Showtime.”
“I wish I could be there,” Addie pouted.
Johns opened the door and headed back out into the bullpen, then crossed to his desk. He lifted a tactical vest and strapped it on, then attached his bodycam to the front and tapped the lens.
“You can watch it later,” he whispered. Clearing his throat, he called for another deputy, who quickly approached us. To him, Johns said, “I need you to get Agent Caldwell settled into the safe room. I’ve gotta run out and make this arrest, but take care of her.”
The kid nodded. “Yessir.” Before he walked away, the other deputy asked Johns, “Are you going to give the sheriff a heads up?”
Johns grinned. “No fucking chance.”
thirty-nine
. . .
SUTTON
To sayI was buzzing on my drive back to Dusk Valley would’ve been an understatement. Three weeks away from home was three weeks too long.
And it wasn’t even being away from the town that had killed me.
