The sun was barely rising as I walked out of the Main Street coffee shop. The owner had moved on and the new management hadn't picked a name yet. I took a sip and the mediocre coffee warmed my throat. I'd die for a Starbucks right about now. The police station was empty as it should be at six in the morning. I turned on the lights to my small office and sat down. I took another long pull of coffee and threw away the rest. I was going to have to learn how to make my own coffee.
Today was going to my first real day as sheriff of Sacks County and I wasn't going to waste it. I opened the folder for the Death Merchants and grabbed Garcia's thick file. His rap sheet was longer than entire gangs I put away in Los Angeles. Kidnapping, rape, murder. This man had done it all and somehow got away with it. I looked over the trial notes and a common theme ran through each one—the star witness for the prosecution was nowhere to be found.
Officers came through and said good morning. Johnson was absent and I was kind of glad. He could stay away forever for all I cared. I didn't need such womanizing men in my station.
Officer Moore walked in and almost tripped over the threshold. I bit my bottom lip to keep from giggling. He was trying so hard to impress me. “Sheriff White, I have a Mr. Garcia here for his appointment.”
“Thank you, Officer Moore, you're dismissed.” I closed my eyes and chanted to myself. You got this, White. Don't let him run all over you.
A Mexican biker strolled in wearing all leather. A small mustache hugged his upper lip and a black eye-patch was over his left eye. Tattoos of all kinds covered his arms including a gun pointed at the Virgin Mary. He was only a tiny bit intimidating. “Where's Sheriff Mendoza?” he asked, standing in the doorway.
“You didn't see the press release then.” I stood up and put out my hand. “Name's White, I'm the new sheriff in town.” My inner schoolgirl was giggling off to the corner. I'd been waiting my entire life to say that.
Garcia laughed and ignored my hand. “They hired some chica to run this town. I knew Mendoza was an idiot.”
This town was going to need a wake-up call. I disregarded his remark and motioned for him to sit down. Garcia glanced behind and noticed two armed guards at the door. I knew he wouldn't try anything in the middle of a police station but I wanted him to know that I didn't take chances. The biker reluctantly sat down and crossed his arms.
“Look Mr. Garcia, I know we're enemies here. But we have one thing in common: a desire to see less blood on the streets. I know about your upcoming war with the Rabid Dog MC and I want to try and stop it. I didn't come here to try and shut any of of the MC's down. I know I need to work with them to make sure this town runs smoothly. But I can't have innocents dying on my watch.”
Garcia listened intently and leaned forward when my speech was over. His right eye twitched and I wondered what happened to his left. “Listen here, puta, I don't work with the cops. I kill cops. The Rabid Dog MC is going down and there's nothing you can do to stop it.” Garcia pushed my desk and made me jump out of my seat. The two armed guards rushed into the room but I waved them away. “Better sleep with one eye open, Sheriff.”
That meeting was a disaster. A woman running this town was going to be harder than I thought. So many preconceived notions that women are trash that are only to be used for sex. I'd have a long uphill battle to change everyone's minds.
My watch read 9:30 AM which meant I still had a little time before the president from Rabid Dog showed up. I pulled out the MC folder and found Cole's file. He was older than Garcia and his rap sheet was almost non-existent—a few speeding tickets, breaking-and entering, and illegal use of firearms. He spent six months in jail but that was it. Either this guy was a saint or knew how to cover his tracks. He'd been president of Rabid Dog for a long time and probably racked up a lot of bodies.
Moore came in and looked nervous. Sweat was beading on his brow and he kept fiddling with his glasses. “The president of the Rabid Dog MC is here.”
“Well you don't have to be shaking in your boots. He's not going to kill anyone. Man up, Moore.”
Moore kicked his feet together and saluted. “Yes, Sheriff.” He marched out of my office and I couldn't help but laugh a little. He was the only man I could trust in this whole town and he barely had any brains.
I closed the Rabid Dog MC file when a towering figure entered the office. He wasn't Cole. I expected a tired old man. This guy was younger with shoulder-length blond hair and sleeves of tattoos on his arms. He was built like an ox and wore jeans with the famous motorcycle club leather cut. What was so cool about motorcycles and leather?
“I was expecting the president of the Rabid Dog MC,” I stated.
“And I was expecting the sheriff of Sacks County,” he replied, sitting down in the chair. He leaned back and put his boots on my desk, knocking over the few pictures I had. “Where's Mendoza?”
I tried my best to ignore his monstrous display of manners. “Mendoza retired. I'm the new sheriff.”
“Well isn't that funny. I thought the man would die before giving up his badge.”
I shifted my legs underneath the desk. “So where's Cole? I need to speak to the Rabid Dog MC leader.”
The stranger pointed at his left breast, tapping on a white patch that said: President. “Ours retired too. I'm the new leader of Rabid Dog, Sawyer Taylor.” He squinted his eyes and read my name tag. “Charlotte White, a female sheriff isn't going to last long here.”
I felt like taking out my gun and shooting him in the leg. That would show him who's in charge. The name Sawyer sounded familiar. I mentally scrolled through the list of Rabid Dog members and remembered Sawyer as the vice-president. The logical choice to replace the president.
“Well since we got that squared away, can we get on with business?” I asked.
Sawyer grinned. “By all means, Sheriff.” His dark eyes looked right into mine and then down my neckline.
Every man I'd encountered in Sacks had checked me out. Wasn't much different than LA. Except here, it felt like the men actually believed I'd be that easy. I took down some notes in the Rabid Dog file. “Sawyer, I'm sure you're aware that The Death Merchants are about to start a war.” I waited for him to acknowledge it but he just kept on staring at me. “I want to keep this town safe and I was hoping that we could work together. Maybe stop this war before it starts.”
Sawyer's eyes were glazed over. His lips were partly open and breathing heavily. Was this guy even listening to me? I pounded my fist on the desk and Sawyer blinked, waking from his daydream. “You're not paying attention.”
Sawyer lifted his boots off my desk and set them back on the ground. “Sorry Sheriff, what were you talking about?”
This man was so fucking frustrating. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to remember how to meditate from my karate sensei. “As the President of the Rabid Dog MC, I was hoping you could prevent the war between the clubs.”
“Hey I don't want any collateral damage either. I'll do everything in my power to stop this war from starting.”
This was a lot easier than with Garcia. “That's all I ask,” I replied. I stood up to signal that it was time for him to leave. Sawyer sat in his seat, looking me up and down one more time before rising. What a creep.
“Nice to meet you, Sheriff.” He winked at me before leaving.
Not going to happen, buddy. Not in a million years.