****SPECIAL BONUS SCENES****
A note from Em Petrova:
Sometimes in the writing process, an author finds the book isn’t working. When I began writing Something About a Lawman, my idea was to flash back to the Roshannon boys as youths and give the readers an insight into how they all became involved with the law.
Toward the end of the book, I realized these scenes were bogging me down, and I cut them. But an author never deletes her precious words! Besides, I thought you would like reading them. Please enjoy the cut scenes from Something About a Lawman.
Twenty years ago
“You wouldn’t know what a real set of balls looked like even if you saw ’em, Wes.”
Wes made a scoffing noise. “Neither would your momma.”
“You take that back!” Judd fisted his hands, his gray eyes shooting the hell-fire only an eight-year-old boy could when his cousin spoke badly about his momma.
Aiden looked on at his twin and cousin about to throw down over a momma joke. Technically, the insult was aimed at their father too, because surely their mother would have seen his real set of balls. But Aiden wasn’t about to bring it up. They were acting so stupid and babyish.
“What ya gonna do? Your momma hasn’t seen any real balls because your daddy doesn’t have any!” Wes danced around, waving his skinny arms.
Judd raised his fists and took a swing, his noodle arm seeming to wobble in the Wyoming breeze.
They were all skinny country boys. They biked for miles to hunt and fish and worked their hides off on their family ranch. But their cousin Wes was shorter than they were and as skinny as a stalk of corn. More than once Aiden and his twin Judd had to pull bullies off him before he got pounded into the dirt.
Judd shoved Wes, and he lowered his head to ram him like a bull—his only defense was his big, hard head.
Aiden turned his back on the pair and started picking his way along the bank of the stream. He had a full stringer of trout for their dinner, and he wanted to hurry home so his momma could start putting them into the hot oil. His stomach was turning inside out and they had a long walk home.
“Aiden!” Judd’s call made him throw a look over his shoulder. His twin was holding his own with Wes. They were both still on their feet and nobody was bleeding. He didn’t need any help. He faced forward again. “Hey, dummy! Aren’t you gonna defend your own mother?”
“Momma jokes are too stupid to bother over. C’mon, Judd. Don’t you want supper?”
A second later he heard footsteps behind him, and then his brother was next to him. Wes flanked his other side and they started toward home. Nobody talked for a full minute.
“Think your momma would care if I have supper with you?” Wes asked.
“If I tell her what you said about her, she will.” Judd thrust his jaw forward.
“Quit bickering. Sick of listening to it. A man needs some damn peace once in a while,” Aiden said.
The boys sucked in gasps of shock.
Judd’s eyes were round. “You swore.”
“You sounded just like your old man,” Wes added in awe.
Aiden’s mouth twisted in a smile. “Let’s just get home. I’m hungry and these fish are heavy.”
They followed the stream, meandering back through the valley. The mountains were jagged spikes against the deep blue sky, and the air was clearer here than in any other part of Wyoming. Aiden would know—he’d been to all twenty-three counties. When his pa went to cattle auctions, they drove all over the state. Aiden loved those times, standing next to his father while they inspected cattle. His pa had even let him place a bid or two in the past. When he grew up, he wanted to take over the ranch.
Wes squatted to look at a fat toad next to the water’s edge. Before he could get his hands around it, the toad leaped. Wes lunged. Aiden and Judd laughed as he tumbled down the bank into the water. He scrambled to his feet, dripping and his face screwed up with anger.
“You guys—” He cut off, his voice strangled.
Aiden looked at him more closely.
“Did he swallow a bug or something?” Judd asked.
“No, something’s actually wrong.” Aiden rushed down the bank and thrashed his way into the stream. Water rushed into his boots, filling them up to his shins. “You okay, Wes?”
He pointed. Aiden followed his finger to an overhanging branch and a foot visible just beneath. Not just a foot. A foot attached to a body, attached to a torso. And when Aiden moved to the side, he spotted the face of a man, bloated, staring.
“What the hell?” Judd drew up beside them and stared at the dead man. He folded at the waist and puked into the stream.
“He’s been dead a while,” Wes managed, sounding as if his stomach hung out in his throat too.
Aiden nodded. He’d seen people dead before. An old neighbor lady who’d made delicious batches of peanut butter cookies and their grandma Caroline. But those people had been cleaned up, eyes shut so they appeared to be sleeping.
The bile rose in the back of Aiden’s throat too, but he gulped it down.
“What do we do?” Wes pushed his heavy brown hair from his eyes.
“I think we should run to the road and flag down a car and tell somebody.” Judd was as pale as the underbelly of a fish.
Aiden held up a hand. “I’m oldest here—”
“By four minutes!” Judd retorted.
“And by five months,” Wes added.
“Still oldest. So I’m taking charge.” He looked at the man again. Could they manage to drag him? He’d be heavy. He was wet.
Maybe Judd’s idea was best.
“Town’s closer than home, if we run straight through the woods. We go now, we’ll get there in an hour tops and we can tell the sheriff.”
The boys looked at him. “What about the fish?” Judd asked.
“And that big dinner?” Wes didn’t look like he was going to barf anymore.
“The fish should keep. Maybe we can buy some ice and put them in a bag when we get to town. C’mon.” He gave the body one last appraising look and headed up the bank. He paused to dump out his boots and then set off again without a backward look. His brother and cousin followed, and Aiden didn’t tell them his knees were shaking.
Twenty years ago
Wes released a long, low whistle as they approached the sheriff’s office. For the last mile of walking, all Judd and Wes had talked about was supper. Judd’s stomach had been growling so loud that Aiden thought about starting a fire and roasting a fish or two over it on a stick. But they’d pushed on, and here they were, about to talk to one of the most intimidating men on the planet.
Sheriff Rawlins. Six-foot-four with a chest the size of a bull. He was rumored to take down everything from petty thieves to cattle rustlers to murderers with only a glare. One look from that steely-eyed stare and a man confessed, it was told up and down these parts.
“You go first,” Wes said. “You’re oldest.”
“You never think me being oldest gives me an advantage any other time.”
Judd elbowed him. “Go on. You walk up to the door first.”
Aiden looked at the door. Painted white, like the rest of the building. Didn’t look so scary if he thought about it being a place of business, like a bait shop.
He steeled his jaw and walked up to the door. His brother and cousin were at his heels, crowding close. Aiden shrugged. “Give a man some room, would ya?”
Wes stepped back but Judd didn’t budge. Aiden figured his twin was experiencing that connection, same as he was. Each of them swore when one was scared, their heart beat double. It made him woozy, but he didn’t have time for that crap right now.
He opened the door and stepped inside with Judd plastered to his back. Wes tripped over the threshold and nearly fell on his face.
From behind a desk, a woman looked up at them.
Aiden swallowed.
“Can I help you boys?”
“Uhh.” They hadn’t figured anybody besides the sheriff would be here, so being met by a kindly smile made Aiden want to weep with relief. He wouldn’t, though. He firmed his jaw again.
“We need to talk to the sheriff.”
She got up and came around her desk to smile at them wider. “He’s out on a call right now, but I can take a message.”
“It’s the sheriff we need to see,” Wes spoke up.
Judd threw him a shut-up-idiot look. Aiden had to admit, talking to this nice woman instead of the beast of a sheriff was looking better by the second.
“Everyone needs to see the sheriff, son. But sometimes people have to tell me what they need to speak with him about and then I pass on the message.”
Aiden nodded and then stopped. He glanced over the woman. She was older, with gray in her hair, looking a little frail in a baggy pair of pants and a sweater. How in heck was she wearing a sweater? It was eighty degrees out. Yeah, she was definitely old. Could her heart handle what they were about to tell her?
“We’ll wait,” Aiden said stubbornly. He wasn’t about to be responsible for her death.
Behind him, Judd’s breath washed out. “You sure, brother?”
Aiden nodded.
“Well, if you’re set on waiting, there’s a bench outside. Could be a while.”
Was mighty hot too. The fish were starting to stink.
Aiden pulled at his hat brim the way he’d seen his dad do a million times. “Thank ya, ma’am.”
She smiled again and went back to her desk while the boys headed out. Aiden plunked onto the bench first and the others crammed next to him.
“What’s wrong with you, thick-head?” Judd smacked the heel of his hand off Aiden’s skull, knocking his hat sideways. “We coulda told that nice lady what we saw and been on our way home. I’m starving and those fish are rottin’.”
Aiden looked down at the stringer of fish dangling down his thigh. He couldn’t argue. But he couldn’t voice his reasons for wanting to wait for the sheriff. “We’ll wait,” he said firmly.
Judd sighed and Wes fell silent, kicking at a pebble under the bench with the toe of his boot. What felt like hours passed. From inside, the sheriff’s secretary started to hum, the sound projecting through the window like an invitation to tell her. Easy to walk back in and spill the story and be home for a late supper. Too much later and they’d miss chores, which would end in nothing till breakfast.
“What if he’s gone till mornin’?” Wes asked.
Aiden looked at his cousin. He was so scrawny he probably wouldn’t last till morning. Aiden swung his gaze to his twin. He was red-cheeked from the heat but wasn’t sweating anymore. Probably getting heatstroke. He’d seen a cowpoke get it once and he had to be taken to the hospital.
He had to make a decision. Scare the bejeezus out of the secretary with their story or risk his family.
Family came first.
He pushed to a stand. Before he could take a step, a big old white SUV pulled up right in front of the office. Aiden didn’t need to look to know the word SHERIFF was painted on the side. Everyone knew this vehicle.
“Oh shit,” Judd whispered.
Aiden put out a hand. “I’ll take care of it.”
The sheriff climbed out and started toward the office, shoving a small notebook into his breast pocket. He stopped short when he saw the boys. “Your pa inside waitin’ to talk to me?” he asked.
Aiden shook his head. “We need to talk to you about something we saw, sir.”
The sheriff towered over them, his gaze as cold as the body that lay by the stream when he looked them over. “You look hot. Hungry too. I was fancyin’ a chocolate cone from Amy’s down the street. Seems like you could use one too.”
Wes’s head practically bounced off with the force of his nod and Judd’s stomach rumbled in answer.
Aiden answered for them. “That would sure sit well, Sheriff.”
Hours later, after a round of ice cream cones and the story about the body they’d discovered and their ideas about how it had come to be there, the sheriff drove them home. As he dropped them off at the ranch, he gave them all a smile—the first they’d ever seen on his face.
Twenty years ago
“’You leave this to me, boys. I’ll take care of it.’ That’s what the sheriff said.” Wes’s face was lit by the greenish glow of the flashlight they took into the closet they used as a clubhouse. The light sat on its end, the beam spreading a dim glimmer on each of them, sitting cross-legged on the closet floor.
“Well, he’s not doing his job. There’s nothing in the newspaper about the murder at all.” Judd picked at the frayed lace of his boot.
“You’re gonna catch hell for having your boots on in the house,” Aiden said.
Judd made a face. “You called an emergency meeting right after chores and there wasn’t time to take them off.”
“I managed to take mine off.”
Wes cleared his throat pointedly. More and more their cousin was stepping up in this investigation, drawing things to order. After the three of them had spoken with the sheriff about the body they’d seen, they’d made it their mission to look after the case. When they heard nothing except that the man was dead, they’d decided to launch their own investigation.
“You’re right, Wes. We have to stay on track.”
“But I’ve got homework,” Judd whined.
“We all do, dummy. Old Mrs. White gave us all the same math pages, remember?” Aiden didn’t know why he was having a go at his twin. Maybe he was hungry and it smelled in this closet like stinky feet and manure off Judd’s boots.
“Get on with it, guys,” Wes said. “Aiden, read what you have written in your notebook this week.”
He pulled out the notebook he’d bought with some spare change at the drugstore in town and proudly opened it to the second page. The words were scribbled, barely legible in the crappy light coming from the flashlight. He lowered the book and stared between Judd and Wes.
“Why we gotta meet in Wes’s closet? Why can’t we just sit in his room?”
“Because nobody can listen in here,” Wes said. He tapped a finger on the book. “Now read.”
Aiden and Judd exchanged a glance at their cousin’s sudden force of character. Maybe he could start beating up his own bullies from now on.
Or maybe not. Wes was still as big as a Junebug.
Aiden read, “Nothing in newspaper. Boot tracks down at the stream near where the body was found.”
Judd leaned forward, his face animated. “That’s our best lead yet.”
“Could be any old fisherman down there catching some trout, Judd.” Aiden wasn’t committed to the detail being that important.
“Or the killer could be coming back to make sure he didn’t leave anything behind.”
“Well, he left a boot track.” Wes stretched out, kicking over the flashlight. Darkness closed around them, and Aiden wasn’t feeling so good about being in the closet anymore.
“That old track didn’t show us anything but somebody likes to fish the stream. I’m gonna wash up for dinner.” He fumbled in the dark for the door handle, but Judd grabbed his arm as Wes righted the flashlight.
“Dude, we gotta write everything down in the murder book. That’s how it’s done,” Judd said.
“That’s right. We nail the timeline.” Wes started ticking things off on his fingers. “Follow every single lead. And we keep looking at every clue even when the case goes cold.”
“Guys, I think it is cold. If the sheriff hasn’t found a suspect yet, how can we?” Aiden asked.
Judd gave him a long, solemn look like he was disappointed to have shared a womb with him. “That’s why we have to keep searching. No stone is left unturned.”
“That’s it!” Wes said. “Tomorrow we start looking for stones.”
They both stared at him.
“The stones from the creek will be muddier than anywhere else. And it’s not just any mud—it’s that thick brown stuff that gets all over everything.”
“That’s true,” Judd said. “Momma yells at us all the time for dragging in creek mud.”
“Yeah, and it’s sticky too. It picks things up. Like pebbles.” Wes opened his gray eyes wide as if they’d catch his meaning. They didn’t.
“Say it plain,” Aiden said.
“If the murderer went back to the creek to see if he left anything behind, the mud would stick to his boots and pick up anything he walked over, like pebbles or twigs. Then when the mud dried, those things might have fallen off.”
“So if we find some rocks or sticks from the man’s boots, then we could follow the trail to the murderer,” Judd said excitedly.
Aiden took out his pen and wrote that all down. Then he snapped the book shut. “I’m starvin’. Let’s get washed up before Momma calls us to dinner.”
Twenty Years Ago
“That’s it. It’s all over.” Aiden sat back, looking at his twin and cousin. The newspaper lay on the closet floor, the headline that the body found at the creek had been a result of natural causes. No foul play involved.
After all the discoveries the boys had made. The hours beating the path, talking to suspects and finding what they believed were leads in the case, the man had simply died of a heart attack while hiking. He’d fallen down the bank and into the water, where he’d turned his blank eyes up to God.
“Son of a bitch.” Judd kicked at the notebooks scattered on the floor.
“Doesn’t mean anything, guys,” Wes said.
Aiden stared at him. The crack in the door afforded enough light that they didn’t need the flashlight. “What are you talking about, Wes? It means he died of a heart attack, and we wasted all this time trying to hunt down a murderer.”
“Yeah, but we learned a lot. At least I did. I… I think I want to do this when I grow up, guys. Go into the law. Maybe become a sheriff.”
Judd and Aiden gaped at him as the realization sank in. They had learned a lot in the past few weeks they’d been trying to solve the crime. And they’d enjoyed doing it.
“Maybe I want to be a lawman too,” Aiden said.
“Me too. I can’t see myself being happy with just ranchin’ the way pa does.” Judd reached for the notebooks and started stacking them again.
Wes grinned at them both. “Then we keep our detective club?”
“Sure, we’ll just find other crimes to solve,” Judd said with excitement.
“I heard someone broke into Mrs. Craft’s barn the other day and stole a bunch of stuff.”
“What can Mrs. Craft even own that’s worth anything?” Judd scoffed.
“Doesn’t matter. Stuff was stolen, and that’s a crime.” Aiden lifted a brow as he looked at his brother and cousin. “What do you say? Are we takin’ the case?”
Wes nodded at once and Judd followed.
“Good. Gimme a new notebook. I’ll write down what I know.”
Eighteen years ago
The boys were getting too large for Wes’s closet. They were all twelve now, shooting up like bad weeds, Aiden and Judd’s pa said. Wes was still shorter than them. Skinnier too. But he had a gangly look like a colt did right before they came into their full growth.
“So Old Thatch got his John Deere stolen yesterday. You might have heard him talkin’ to Pa,” Aiden said as way of opening the meeting of their detective club.
“Who can just drive off with a John Deere? Where was the key?” Wes asked.
“In the ignition,” Judd said, flicking his shoelace like a tiny lasso.
Wes stretched out his long legs and kicked over the flashlight serving as light. The closet went black.
“Set that up again. I can’t see my book,” Aiden said.
“Screw that book, Aiden. It can’t tell us anything we couldn’t have overheard from Old Thatch talkin’ to Pa.” Judd still reached for the light and set it on its end so the beam spread over them like an umbrella.
Ignoring his brother’s outburst, Aiden read his notes. “He went to bed at nine-thirty.”
“Not unusual for a rancher,” Wes added.
“Nope. And he got up once to use the bathroom. That was around three in the morning.”
“God’s sake, Aiden, who gives a crap when the guy took a whizz?”
He gave Judd a long look but said nothing.
“Fine. Get on with it.” Judd tied his lace into a mini noose and Aiden knew who that was for.
“When he went out to the barn at six, the John Deere was missing. That means someone came between three and six.”
Judd sat back, propped on his palms. “Dang, you’re an Einstein, aren’t ya? You can tell time.”
“You know, that’s it.” Aiden dropped his book and lunged for his brother. He got him on the floor, legs pinned, and dug his arm across his neck.
“That’s enough,” Wes said. “You can’t kill your twin, Aiden.”
“Why not?” He grunted with the exertion of holding down a boy who equaled him in strength.
“You’d have to live with half a soul, that’s why. You know what your twin link is like. Let him up.”
Aiden looked down at his brother’s sweaty face.
“If you do, I’m going to strangle you,” Judd vowed.
“Can’t let him up now.”
“This is ridiculous. There’s no room in this closet for us, let alone a brawl.” Wes gathered his feet under him to stand.
“Where ya goin’?” Aiden let off his brother enough that Judd got a punch in. Head rocking, ear ringing from the blow, Aiden rolled off.
“I’m hungry, and this is a waste of time,” Wes said.
Aiden stared up at him. “How are we gonna find the guy who stole the tractor? What if he steals our tractor? How will we do the chores around here?”
Wes stopped with his hand on the doorknob. Judd scooted into a sitting position, breathing hard with anger at being pinned down. Aiden would have to watch his back for a few hours until his twin got over his grudge.
“We have to try, guys. The sheriff is too busy hauling in people running drugs and drunk drivin’ to spend time on Old Thatch’s tractor. We have to help.”
“Fine,” Judd said.
Wes sat again, Indian-style. “Who do we know that stays up all night. Someone who can’t sleep?”
The boys were silent as they thought.
“And,” Aiden said slowly, “who was down at the feed store the other day asking about ways to keep grass from growing so fast because his tractor’s busted?”
Judd straightened with excitement. “Mayburn,” he and Wes said at the same time.
Aiden nodded. Adam Mayburn was half a tick off the bubble, his brain fried by something that had happened at his birth. He was slow, low-functioning and often prowled town at night because he couldn’t sleep. Once he’d even come over to Eagle Crest and knocked on the door to ask for a drink of water. Their mom had gotten up and given him the glass of water and a cinnamon bun before sending him on his way.
Mayburn was at least forty-five years old and lived with his aging parents. They had no knowledge of half the stuff the man did.
“You know what we need to do. Go up to Mayburn’s place and see if the John Deere’s parked there,” Aiden said.
“You think he’d just park it out in the open?” Judd asked.
“’Course he would,” Wes said. “His mind doesn’t work like ours. So when we going over?”
“Right now.” Aiden got up and stuffed the book into the back pocket of his jeans.
“But I’m hungry,” Wes said.
“You’re always hungry. Your stomach has to wait. Let’s go.”
The Mayburns was a ten-minute walk through the fields—the freshly mown fields.
“Looks like they’re ready for tillin’ the earth and plantin’,” Wes said, swishing his boots through the grass.
When they crested the rise and saw the Mayburns’ ranch home, the gleaming green and yellow John Deere tractor parked next to it, they all stopped.
Wes fist-punched the air with a “Yaw!”
Aiden and Judd gave high-fives.
“We finally solved a case. Now let’s get home and call the sheriff up and tell him. And get somethin’ to eat,” Wes said.
Fifteen years ago
“Hey, Aiden—” Judd broke off as he walked into Wes’s room and saw Aiden sitting there beside Sadie Townsend. She sat cross-legged but her skirt barely stretched between her knees, and anybody who sat opposite her would get a glimpse of tanned thighs, and if she moved the right way, a hint of cotton panties.
“What the hell’s she doing here?” Judd asked.
“Whattaya think, dumbass? She’s here for the meeting.” Aiden directed his gaze back to his girlfriend. She had long honey-colored hair and big blue eyes and a smile that melted every one of the boys in the ninth grade.
Sadie blushed as she looked up at Judd, and Aiden didn’t know if he liked that. Maybe it’d been a bad idea to bring a girl here for their weekly detective meeting. Of course, they hadn’t solved any cases in ages, and half the time they ended up just sitting around Wes’s room—they’d long outgrown the closet—playing games or talking sports.
“Where’s Wes?” Aiden asked, moving his body to block Sadie from Judd’s view. Especially those thighs.
Judd eyed him but thankfully didn’t ask why he was lying in a twisted pretzel pose in front of the girl. “He’s finishing up chores Mom asked him to do for her.”
“Is Wes really your brother?” Sadie asked.
Aiden and Judd stared at each other and then laughed. “Nah, where’d you hear that?”
She leaned back, her weight on her palms. “Everybody talks about it in school. That Wes doesn’t have his parents because yours ran them off. Rumor is his mother really played around with your daddy and Wes is your brother.”
“That’s ridiculous. Wes is just a few months younger than we are.”
Sadie shrugged. “Just what they say.”
When Wes barged into the room, he skidded to a stop. His hat was askew, his shirt hung open with sweat standing out on his chest.
Sadie’s gaze latched onto it like a hungry teen looked at a buffet. Aiden shot to his feet, blocking Wes from her view.
Judd squinted his eyes at him and then a grin broke over his face. Great—his damn twin knew what Aiden was doing.
He glared at Judd, who just smiled wider.
Sadie leaned to the side to see around Aiden’s legs. She didn’t even try to hide the fact she was batting her eyelashes. Obviously, she’d come with him to flirt with his brother and Wes.
“All right, meetin’s over,” he grumbled and stomped to the door.
Wes and Judd gaped at him. “We didn’t even go over the crimes.”
“Doesn’t matter—we won’t solve ’em anyway. C’mon, Sadie. I’ll walk you home.”
She got to her feet. As she passed Judd, she smiled. She threw Wes a wink. By this time, Aiden wasn’t even sure he wanted to walk her home, but he had to make sure she got there safely.
When he returned, Wes and Judd were doing target practice out back. He watched them take their shots. Then he grabbed a pistol and neatly tipped shells into the chamber. He stepped up, took aim and hit the bullseye.
“You’re gettin’ good at that, Aiden,” Judd said.
“I was picturing your face,” he said coldly.
Judd stepped up to him. “Your girlfriend was flirting with me.”
“But you were pretty damn cheerful about it.” He squeezed off three more shots and turned to Wes. “That was your face.” He set down the pistol and started walking away.
“New club rule, Aiden. No girls,” Judd called.
“Yeah, they got no business interfering in our group and causing hard feelings.” Wes put in.
Without turning around, Aiden raised a hand in agreement. He was ticked off at his brother and cousin—but mostly he was irritated with Sadie. She wasn’t what she seemed, and that cut deep.
Twelve years ago
Aiden’s bullet gave a low, dull thwap as it struck the target stuck on the hay bale three hundred yards away. He shoved another bullet in the chamber, aimed and pulled the trigger again.
“Same place,” Judd said from beside him. “Don’t know how you do it, bro. We’ve all practiced as long as you and you still shoot better.”
Aiden grunted. “Thinkin’ of joining the Marines.”
Judd went completely still. Aiden swung his gaze to his twin, feeling a weird fluttery feeling that normally only happened when Judd was in trouble. He looked at his brother hard. Was it possible that they were connected by strong emotions too?
Judd’s face mottled and his throat worked. “You’re gonna leave Eagle Crest and join up?”
“Said I was thinkin’ about it. Haven’t signed anything yet.”
“Signed anything with who? Have you talked to a recruiter?”
Aiden nodded.
“The one at school?”
He nodded again.
“I thought you were in the guidance office to switch into that study hall.”
“Didn’t want to tell you till I knew for sure.”
“Is that why you’re telling me now? Your mind’s made up?”
When Judd put it that way, Aiden thought it might be.
Judd stared at him. “You talk to Momma and Pa yet?”
“No. Thought you should know first.”
“So Wes doesn’t know either.”
“Wes doesn’t know what?” Wes threw himself down in the grass next to them, sweaty from chores and smelling faintly of manure.
Aiden waited for Judd to blurt it out, but he held his tongue. Leaving Aiden to break it to his cousin—who was almost a brother—that he was breaking up the crew. They’d long ago left behind the detective club to hunt down pretty girls, but somehow leaving felt like a betrayal.
He looked to Wes. “I’m joining the Marines.” He stuck another round into the rifle and nailed the third bullseye, the group of holes touching.
Wes went still. Then he picked up another bullet and handed it to Aiden. “You’ve got the shootin’ skills. Don’t know if you can take orders that well, though.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aiden lowered his rifle.
“You just like being in charge is all. Maybe you’ll be promoted fast and then you can boss everyone else around.”
Aiden grunted. His nerves were jittering like popcorn in hot oil. His choice was made, he would leave Eagle Crest for something bigger than himself.
“Whatever you do, I’m behind you, bro.” Wes held out a hand and Aiden took it. Squeezing as he looked into his eyes, so much like his own.
“Thank you.”
“I’m going to the police academy,” Judd said out of the blue.
Both looked at him in stunned surprise. “You never mentioned it.”
“You didn’t mention the Marines either.” Judd jutted out his jaw in that stubborn way of his.
“You’ll be great at it,” Aiden said thickly, oddly emotional.
They both turned to Wes. “I’m not going anywhere. Staying right here. But I might take a course on firearms, maybe get licensed for a concealed carry. And I’ll help your pa while you both are gone.”
They nodded in unison. “That’s best,” Aiden said.
The club was officially dissolved, its members gone their separate ways. Who knew if they’d ever come together again the way they once had been.
**Thank you for reading SOMETHING ABOUT A LAWMAN. If you’re enjoyed this book, please leave a review! Reviews make authors happy, and happy authors mean more hot books!