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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