I shove my hands into my pockets, and rock back on my heels. “Would you rather I scheduled a drop-off at the county jail? They’d be happy to hold you until the sheriff gets back.”
Her eyes widen a fraction before she saunters past, giving me a patronizing pat on the chest. “I take it back. Thanks for being so generous.”
“Mason’s on duty this weekend, so try not to stir up any more trouble unless you want a repeat performance of last night.”
“Bummer, I was really looking forward to an encore,” she quips, already halfway out the door.
“See you later, troublemaker.”
“Bye, Walker,” she calls over her shoulder in a singsong voice.
I should feel nothing but relief that she’s out of the cell and safe, yet I can’t deny I’m disappointed that our conversation was cut short. Most of the time, my sister or other people are around, or we cross paths when she visits her dad. But it’s never enough.
With Birdie gone, I remind myself that I’m here to work, not brood. First order of business: take care of some damning evidence.
Fresh Out Of The Slammer
As soon as Walker lets me go, I bolt out of the sheriff’s office, not taking any chances. I’m at the front entrance of the building, fingers poised on the door handle, when I realize I left my bag behind.
“That’s just great,” I huff.
I must have left it on the counter when Mason returned my personal belongings. I was so focused on checking my missed calls and messages I didn’t look to see if I had everything. I drop my head and groan before forcing myself to trudge back the way I came, bracing for Walker’s merciless teasing.
I’m glad it’s a Friday and no one else is around this early to witness my second walk of shame this morning. Honestly, it’d be less humiliating if I were sneaking out of someone’s apartmentafter a one-night stand—at least then I’d be exhausted for reasons I could actually brag about.
I’ve just turned the corner into the processing area when I spot Walker. He’s standing by the row of filing cabinets in the corner, head buried in a file. I flatten myself against the wall and carefully peek around it, relieved to see he hasn’t noticed me. He’s scanning the page, fingers brushing the scruff along his jaw.
The charcoal-gray deputy’s button-up is tucked into his Wranglers, and his favorite cowboy hat sits perched on his head. My eyes linger on the way his biceps tighten when he moves his arms. There’s no question he’s the hottest guy in Bluebell, and plenty have tried to rope him in—but he’s also lived up to his reputation, leaving behind a trail of broken hearts.
Stop ogling your friend’s brother, Birdie.
I may admire him from afar, but I’m fully aware he has a type, and I’ve never fooled myself into thinking I’m it. I’ve always just been his little sister’s friend, someone he looks out for, and who, over the past few years, has become a good friend. I accepted long ago that’s all I’d ever be, and I’m just glad he doesn’t find me too awkward to hang out with like other guys have.
Before I can gather the courage to come out from my hiding spot, Mason storms out of the holding area across the room, his face beet red as he beelines for Walker.
“What the hell did you do with it, Halstead?” he growls.
Walker lifts his head slowly. “Do with what?”
“The video evidence from the fairgrounds. I left it on my desk, and now it’s gone.” Mason jabs an accusing finger at him. “I’ve looked everywhere, and it’s not here. You’re the only other person who’s had access to this area, so don’t bother lying.”
“That’s quite the imagination you’ve got there, kid,” Walker drawls, setting his folder on top of the closest filing cabinet. “Shame you lost the tape. It was the only thing tying Birdie to the scene.”
It’s probably wrong to eavesdrop, but their conversation is about me, so I figure listening a little longer can’t hurt.
Mason throws his hands in the air. “Oh, come on. I wasn’t born yesterday. She’s the sheriff’s kid and one of your sister’s closest friends. And don’t think I didn’t notice you two looking rather chummy earlier.”
Walker’s expression hardens. “Careful. If you’re suggesting I’d tamper with evidence because of who the suspect is, you’re walking a very fine line.” He takes a step closer, looming over Mason. “I’ve been a deputy for six years without ever giving the sheriff a reason to doubt me. You, on the other hand, have only been here a couple of weeks and will definitely be on his shit list when he finds out you brought hisdaughterin without consulting him first.”
My dad might not agree with my methods, but he raised me to stand up for what I believe in, even if it means bending a few rules along the way. But Walker’s right—when my dad finds out Mason left me in a holding cell overnight, he’ll have some choice words for his newest deputy.
Mason opens his mouth, hesitating, then closes it.
“Figures you wouldn’t have a good comeback.” Walker scoffs, his gaze returning to the file he’d been reviewing before he was interrupted.
I might’ve felt a twinge of sympathy for Mason if he hadn’t called me stupid for risking my freedom to save Daisy and Peaches. Anyone who treats animals as disposable rather than worth protecting deserves exactly what the universe throws at them.
Deciding I’ve pushed my luck far enough, I duck around the corner, disappearing from sight. I’ll get my bag later.
