Chapter 2
Brice Lane sat back in his chair in the small office. His boss, Harry, was yapping nonstop, and he kept fading out, doing his best to keep his attention on the man. Brice had graduated from the Academy in Bozeman six months ago and had joined the Sheriff’s Department here in Hollow Grove soon after.
“Hey, Sheriff, Mayor Johnston wants to know if you can call him later,” Carol, a fellow deputy, said as she entered the office. She was around thirty and always had a smile on her face. They had talked often around the station, and Brice loved being around her.
“Thank you, sweetie. I’ll be calling him.”
Brice watched as Carol put her hand into a fist, turned around, and walked out, the door close to slamming behind her.
“What a set of tits on that woman. If she wasn't married, well, I’d be spending a lot more time with her,” Harry said with a laugh, trying to pull his pants over his large gut.
Brice wanted to slap the man for talking about her that way. But this was a small town, and being the new guy on the small force, he would find himself out of a job if he spoke up. Instead he ignored Harry as the man walked over to his desk, grabbing a manila folder and then handing it to Brice.
“What’s this?”
“Read it,” Harry said with a laugh, then walked over to the window to let out a rather large fart. Feeling even more disgusted, Brice opened the file, the picture of the man immediately grabbing his attention. Dark blue eyes, a well-defined face. And from the various pictures inside, the man definitely worked out.
“Logan Chase?” Brice asked, looking up. “Isn't his sister the woman at the store over on Main?”
Harry pulled the blinds down on the window, then turned around and leaned against the sill. When he let out a loud sigh, his gut rippled, and Brice wondered if the brown shirt was strong enough to hold back the wave of flesh beneath it.
“Madeline Chase. The little slut runs Second Chances thrift store, or boutique, or whatever they call those shit places nowadays,” Harry said. “Anyway, her big brother Logan is coming back to our community today. Your job’s going to be to keep an eye on him.”
Brice closed the manila folder as he sat up. “Won’t he have a parole officer for that?”
“You’re going to be that as well. But listen closely, Brice, this is important.” Harry pulled out a cigarette and lit it up.
Brice nodded.
“He killed my friend’s boy. Cold-blooded murder, right out on Main Street.”
Brice opened the file again. “It says here ‘voluntary manslaughter’?”
Harry laughed, his hand slapping his thigh, more than likely not able to reach his knee. “Got himself a good lawyer. That little whore of his, his sister, paid for it. Sure he got a lesser charge, but he beat poor Tommy so bad they had to have a closed casket funeral.”
Brice glanced over the file, trying to quickly gather information. It was sad that someone so handsome could do such a thing. But looks were not everything, and being good-looking didn't keep one from committing crimes.
“So, what do you need me to do, Sheriff?”
Harry coughed as he walked over to his desk and took a seat. He folded his hands in front of him. Brice turned in his chair to look right at him.
“You have to meet with him every Monday. Make him take the piss test. Look for anything to bust him with. He can’t have access to firearms for one, and his daddy was a gun collector. Tail him during the day, find out his habits. Any dirt you get on him, tell me and then I’ll take care of it.”
Brice thought about his words for a moment, deciding to tread carefully. “Is this personal, Harry?”
“Damn right it is. Tommy was like a son to me. Logan needs to be back in prison where he belongs. So, if you happen to find a bag of drugs, well, you would be my hero. And of course, I can see a promotion and a raise in your future if that were to happen.”
Brice bit down on his lip. He became a police officer to build stronger communities not to destroy them. If this Logan was obeying the law, he would not plant any evidence on him.
“You got it, boss,” Brice said, offering a fake smile that he hoped concealed his anger.
The door opened and Carol came back in and dropped a file on the desk. Brice watched as Harry stared right at the woman’s chest. He felt horrible for her and decided he would have a word with her in private later on. If she wanted to speak out, he would stand by her.
“Might just have to make a move on that little tramp,” Harry said as he stood up after Carol walked out. Grabbing his pack of cigarettes, Harry smiled. “Well, son, let’s get going. The bus’ll be rolling in at any moment.”
***
Brice walked down Main Street, glad for the summer sun and the clouds that made it a beautiful day. All around him people walked by, many smiling and waving at him, with Brice returning the same. Though he had only been a part of the community for six months, he had been made so welcome that he felt he had been here for years.
“Hey, Brice,” Linda, a local said as she got out of her truck. Linda lived on twenty acres with a horse. She was a widow, her husband having lost his life in the military a few years back. Brice rented an apartment from her that was above her garage.
“Linda, good to see you,” Brice said, giving her a wave.
“You banging that?” Harry asked after Linda went into the shop.
Brice stopped in his tracks, his temper about to boil over.
“I would. Greatest ass this side of the Mississippi,” Harry said with a laugh between gasps from the two blocks they walked.
“No, I’m not sleeping with her.”
“Just asking. You don't have to get all butt hurt,” Harry said, and they continued the walk.
Hollow Grove offered a slice of old-time America with its busy Main Street, American flags outside of every shop, and even a diner, pharmacy and candy store. And sadly, some of the hatred and bad attitudes from that era carried over with it as well.
“Poor Jim took a roadside bomb for his country, and Linda there hasn't had any dick since then. She’s primed and ready,” Harry said, slapping Brice on his back.
“Again, not interested,” Brice said between gritted teeth.
“Suit yourself.”
They were half a block away from the bus stop when Brice stopped in front of a grocer.
“I need to ask them something. I’ll meet you at the bus stop in a few minutes.”
“Sure. I’ll be there.”
Brice watched as Harry waddled off, and with frustrated sigh, stepped into the grocer. He didn't need to ask them anything, but he needed to let his heart rate return to normal. He was used to guys making jokes or comments about women like they did back in college. And he knew most of it was harmless. But for Harry to think of a widow of a veteran needing dick made his blood boil. Linda was a good person, quiet, and obviously shattered from her loss. She had confided in Brice a few weeks ago that upon hearing the news of her husband’s passing she had miscarried.
Linda needed a friend and time to heal, not what Harry wanted to give her.
Regaining his composure, he stepped back outside and hurried towards the bus stop.
***
Brice stopped, his heart racing, his breath caught in his throat. Logan Chase was even better looking in person. The face that was so handsome it hurt, the huge biceps, the tight jeans. And that butt, damn, was it cute. The man had his eyes closed, and Brice watched him draw in a deep breath, as one would do when meditating. Watching him exhale, he started talking to Harry.
For a minute, Brice stood as though time was moving around him. Then his mind reminded him he was an officer of the law. His job was to protect the community and keep an eye on Logan. Not to stand and check him out, making him no better than Harry. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he walked over. A moment later, introductions were made.
“Nice to meet you,” Brice said, loving the feel of the strong hand in his. Firm and hard, much like the taut chest that was defined in the outline of the man’s shirt.
“Now, Logan, Brice here is going to be your parole officer, reporting directly to me. Any screw-ups, and we’re going to send your ass back to prison.”
“You’d like that, wouldn't you, Harry?” Logan said, his voice sharp and a something else there Brice couldn't quite pick up on. It wasn't anger, it was more like resentment.
“I don't give two shits. Now, come Monday?” Harry said, looking at Brice.
Not wanting Harry to speak to him, Brice turned toward Logan, the dark blue eyes seemed to be pulling him in. “I’ll be at your home Monday. Is ten in the morning alright with you?”
Harry laughed. “Damn son, you’re the law. Don't ask him.”
“That’s fine. Anything you need me to prepare?”
“No. Just let me have a look around the house is all. I shouldn't be there more than thirty minutes.” Brice wondered why his heart rate wouldn't calm down.
“Alright. If there’s nothing else, I need to go see my sister,” Logan said.
As Harry continued to talk, Brice let his eyes roam over the man once more. Though this man had murdered someone, he didn't seem the type. Not that Brice had a lot of experience dealing with felons, but this guy seemed decent under the hard exterior.
Not knowing how much time went by, Brice's thoughts were interrupted by Harry slapping his back.
“I don't care if you bill overtime or not. Keep your eye on him all the time.”
Brice nodded, watching the tight butt in the denim walk away. “You got it, Harry,” he said, then turned and headed back with his boss back to the station.