Roy thinks the best way to catch Jordan in the act is through Dustin - by baiting a trap with him. But only if he's willing, of course. Dustin agrees, so the next step is to get in contact with the authorities in Tucker Falls, aka Sheriff Sinclair. See more of Roy and Dustin in this week's episode of The Sheriff. Don't forget to visit the other Briefers and see what they've been up to! Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!
The Sheriff #27 (7.4)
Breakfast at Milly’s Diner was a quiet affair. Dustin
thought Roy seemed to be lost in thought. Probably figuring out what the hell
to do about Dustin. What little conversation they had was mostly small talk
about the weather. Dustin thought maybe
that was discretion on the sheriff’s part, since apparently he was involved in
some kind of ongoing investigation regarding Tucker Falls. Who knew?
And when had he stopped thinking of him as the Sheriff and
started calling him Roy? Dustin didn’t know, and he decided not to analyze that
too closely. He was always reading into things. That’s how he got into the
trouble he did. Didn’t need to start anything new, he was already in enough
deep shit as it was.
Dustin was half afraid they’d run into Marshall and Lee. Not
that that was a bad thing, but his mind was in too much turmoil. He didn’t
think he could handle running into them too, especially if they wanted to know
what was going on. Luckily that didn’t happen.
Roy insisted on picking up breakfast, and Dustin didn’t
argue. Who knew how much longer he’d even have a job after this? Although it
wasn’t his fault, and he knew it, people didn’t always look at things the same
way he did. They’d probably blame him for getting involved with Jordan, and
thinking with his dick.
After they ate, they got in Roy’s truck and drove to the
sheriff’s office in Tucker Falls. The compact brick building was small compared
to other police stations Dustin had seen in bigger towns. But at least it was
something. Roy was working out of his house, after all, and didn’t even have a
jail cell.
An older woman sat at what he assumed was the reception
desk. She was hunting and pecking on an old fashioned typewriter when they
walked in. Dustin was surprised any of those relics even existed. Why would you
want one when you could use a computer? The woman didn’t look up immediately,
not until she came to the end of whatever she was typing. She nodded at it, then glanced up at them, over the top of her wire
rim glasses.
“What can I help you with today?” She spoke to Roy, of
course, since he was the one in uniform. She probably thought Dustin was his
prisoner or something.
“Good morning, ma’am,” Roy said. “Sheriff Sinclair’s
expecting us. Sheriff Roy Landry.”
Dustin noticed Roy hadn’t explained who he was, not that it
really mattered. How badly did he want to be known by the police department
where he lived? Not very.
“If you’ll take a seat over there, I’ll tell him you’re
here.” She waved toward a row of metal and leather chairs clustered together
against one wall.
“Thank you, ma’am.” Roy tipped his ten gallon hat, then
nodded to Dustin. They took adjoining seats. Roy removed his hat and held it on
his lap.
Other than the woman and themselves, the office was empty of
life. Maybe the deputies were out doing deputy stuff or something. Dustin
hadn’t noticed any marked cars in the parking lot when they’d arrived. He
assumed Sinclair didn’t run the station all on his own. He wondered what you
had to do to get a job like that? Although truth be told he’d rather work with
Roy than here, but Roy had pretty well shot that idea down, hadn’t he? Course,
after today, this sheriff wouldn’t exactly be looking at him in a good light
either.
Lost in thought, he was surprised when Roy laid one hand
across both of his. “Stop that. There’s no reason to be nervous. Plus that’s a
nasty habit.”
Dustin hadn’t been aware he’d been picking at his fingers.
That only showed how unnerved he was. He hadn’t done that in a long time. He
glanced up, meeting Roy’s eyes.
“Everything’s gonna be okay,” Roy assured him.
Dustin’s heart hammered in his chest so loudly he could
barely hear over it. What in the hell was wrong with him?
And why did he have the insane desire to kiss this man?
“Sheriff Sinclair will see you now.” The receptionist’s
voice broke into Dustin’s trance. To his surprise, Roy looked as shocked as
Dustin felt. Roy yanked his hands back, cleared his throat loudly, and stood so
quickly he almost dropped his hat and knocked over a
nearby chair.
“Then let’s… I mean… Oh hell, just come on.” He gave up and
barreled across the room toward an open door where a man in uniform stood.
Dustin followed hastily after him, heat rising in his face. Was that a snicker he heard from the
receptionist?
to be continued
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