Matt caught her looking, not saying anything, standing in the living room entrance as if she were a child about to be admonished by a parent. He smiled and motioned to a chair. “Sit your ass down and stop staring at how bad I look.”
Crash couldn’t help but laugh and do as she was told. Matt snatched the remote control from the back of the couch and muted the TV. The basketball game went silent.
“Who’s playing?” Crash said.
“No goddamn clue. When I fell asleep, guys were shooting each other. I wake up, it’s this. How’s life behind the big desk?”
“Just keeping it warm until you get back.”
“I would not hold my breath on that occurring anytime soon.”
“Whatever. Give you a little more time to heal up, you’ll be back.”
“That’s real sweet of you to say, Crash, but you have no poker face whatsoever, and I saw you when you came through that door. I’m well aware I look like poorly warmed–over death. The sad thing is from how high of a peak I fell.”
“It is a tragedy.”
“Truly. I was so goddamn good-looking. Lucky for me, Rachel’s vision isn’t getting any better, so there might still be hope. You holding it all together?”
“We haven’t collapsed into chaos or anarchy yet, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve kept Parker County society from falling apart somehow.”
“Good job. Guys treating you okay?”
“They’re treating me like their boss, which was all I wanted. Everyone’s still a smartass. You talked to Carl?”
“He’s come by a few times. He wheels himself in here and gives me grief about lying around on the couch when he’s out there in the world, doing things, asking when we’re going fishing again—shit like that. I’m confident that Amy’s glad to get him out of the house.”
“No doubt. You mind I ask you a question?”
“Why’d I let him come over before you?”
“Yes.”
“Because he and I have a lot of years chalked up together. Seen a fair amount together. Plus, after he got shot, I worked to be there for him. Now, he gets to be here for me. It had a lot more to do with him needing something than with you needing something. You’ve got plenty to juggle right now. Carl needs a thing, whatever it is. Besides, he wanted to know why it was, he got shot, he got a wheelchair and a catheter, and I got shot, now I’m getting a new liver. He doesn’t think it’s fair.”
“Rachel told me they found a donor.”
“They did. Once I got healed up enough they surmised I’ll survive the surgery, they decided it might be the right time to pull this parlor trick. It seems like I’m not going to hang around much longer otherwise.”
“You’ll be around forever, Matt. You’ll throw dirt on the graves of your enemies.”
“How many people you think I’ve pissed off, Crash?”
“Over a lifetime, I can’t say, but I imagine today alone, almost anyone you’ve come in contact with.”
“Just as well I don’t go anywhere.”
A smile crossed Crash’s face. “I brought you flowers. Rachel put ’em in a vase.”
“Much appreciated. Everyone brought me flowers and houseplants for a while. We managed to kill most of ’em off, so we’ll see how these do.” Matt stretched his legs out and brought his feet out onto the coffee table. He wore house slippers. “They gonna do a special election, fill the office?”
“Doesn’t seem like it. Sounds like the plan is to wait until next November. County doesn’t want to deal with the expense, and I can’t say I blame ’em.”
“You gonna run?”
Crash shrugged a shoulder. Wanted to come off half-hearted and disinterested. “Maybe. I like the office. The space, if not the title. The view’s nice.”
“The view’s terrible. All you can see is Serenity.”
“If you didn’t know what you were talking about, that would sound great. But yeah, I’ll run. I hear there are a few folks talking about throwing hats in there. There’re pocketbooks opening up, offering to help out. I’m not sure everyone enjoys having a female sheriff barely old enough to drink.”
“Especially one who looks like she’s missing a sophomore English class. Regardless of how badass she is with a stun gun.” Matt reached to an end table for a glass and drank some water. “Anyone from within the department talking about running?”
“No one wants the headache.”
“It is a fucking headache, ain’t it?”
“I got people showing up all hours of the day to bitch and complain about every little goddamn thing you can imagine. I fantasize on a daily basis about how satisfying it’d be just to punch ’em in the mouth. Line ’em up one by one and hit ’em, and then let ’em get on with whatever they want done.”
“But first, a punch.”
“Definitely.”
“But it’s still a great job, isn’t it?”
“Completely. Which is why I’ll be stupid and try to fight for it.”
“What if you don’t?”
“I might find out about annoying ’em over at the state police. I’m sure me and Jackie Hall would get along great.”
“You likely would. Though he may not be the level one jack hole I’ve always made him out to be.”
“I didn’t figure he was. You, on the other hand—”
“Total level one jack hole. All day, every day.”
Crash didn’t stay long. She said something about having somewhere she needed to be, but Crash knew couldn’t lie for shit, and Matt smiled as she said it. He was tired anyway. Rachel walked her to the door. By the time Rachel came back, Matt was asleep.
Rachel poured herself more tea and went out onto the back deck. The air was getting cool. Seasons would change soon.
She wanted a cigarette but shook the feeling off. She had gotten rid of the pack she kept hidden near the bushes two weeks ago. Kept telling herself it was a bad habit anyway.
She considered calling the school tomorrow, asking when she could start back. She needed to be there for Matt, but Crash was right that she needed to be there for herself also. She realized sometimes she was a woman who’d built her identity on the backs of the men she attracted. It was a nasty trait, something a lot of women did, she thought. She remembered her mother having gone through a series of husbands—her father was the third of five—before finally ending up by herself, dying alone, angry and bitter because none of those marriages had brought her the happiness she thought she had deserved, that she believed was her right.
Rachel had been in the hospital while her mother’s heart gave out and she died. Rachel had fancied the concept that her mother had died of a broken heart, but that gave her mother too much credit. That implied a love and compassion the old woman hadn’t always been capable of, and that had somehow both attracted and driven away five husbands and countless other men who had been lucky enough to escape.
She didn’t hear the door slide open, so lost in her thoughts, and it startled her when Matt slipped into the lounge chair beside her. The temperature was mild, but he had put on a heavy sweatshirt. She moved to get up.
“What are you doing out here?” she said. “You’ll freeze yourself to death.”
Matt took her hand and said, “Sit back down. I’m fine. Let’s be here for a moment.”
Rachel considered this, then lowered herself back into the chair. Matt didn’t let go of her hand, and their fingers intertwined with one another.
Matt said, “What are you out here thinking about?”
“Not much. That we should get some new bushes in the yard.”
“We could do that.”
“But if we move to Charleston, how much money do we want to sink into this place? We’ll never get all of that back in the selling price.”
“No, but sometimes it’s nice just to have pretty things to look at.” He gave Rachel’s hand a small squeeze. “With that in mind, we could put up a big privacy fence and you could sunbathe naked.”
“Perv
ert.”
“Guilty as charged. Though I bet we could get a privacy fence in Charleston too.”
“Are you giving it some thought now?”
“Some. Your brother keeping the offer open?”
“Always. He’d love to have us closer anyway. It’d be more money than you make now, and regular hours. You’d be home at five every night. You wouldn’t be out at all hours dealing with criminals and whatnot.”
“It’s still working for a security company. I’d be catching criminals in the act.”
“You wouldn’t be like a security guard or anything. You’d be in the office. You could wear a tie every day.”
“You are not doing a grandiose job of selling me on this.”
“I don’t suppose I am.”
There was a pause.
Matt said, “Once the surgery’s over and we figure out whether I’m going to live or not, let’s talk to him. See what the doctors say, and then we can see about heading down that way.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Another squeeze. “Anytime, honey.”
Another pause. Rachel said, “Matt?”
“Yes, honey?” His voice sounded thick and sleepy. His head had drifted back, his eyes closed, facing toward the purpling nighttime sky.
Rachel squeezed his hand. “I’m pregnant.”
A Note from the Author
I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, I would greatly appreciate a short review on Amazon or your favorite book website. Reviews are crucial for any author, and even just a line or two can make a huge difference.
Also by James D.F. Hannah
THE HENRY MALONE NOVELS
MIDNIGHT LULLABY
COMPLICATED SHADOWS
SHE TALKS TO ANGELS
THE PARKER COUNTY NOVELS
THE RIGHTEOUS PATH
Acknowledgments
You’d think this would get easier after a few, and it does until it doesn’t. But it helps when you have help.
I have the best early readers in the world: Krista and the Emilies (available for weddings, bar mitzvahs, and corporate events). Plus the most patient AND snarkiest editor, Cayce Berryman, who lives to point out my (comma) faults.
Continued shout-outs to the Alices (all of them, but two in particular), Brett, Cathy, the Christinas (opening for the Donnas), Lana, Lanny, the long-distance Lunch Bunch (long may inappropriate memes reign), Rebecca Robyn, and to every English teacher kind enough to tell me to keep on writing.
About the Author
James D.F. Hannah is an award-winning former journalist and public relations professional who turned to writing after he discovered bleach doesn't work on exploding dye packs. He lives in Louisville, Kentucky.
This is his fourth novel.
The Righteous Path: A Parker County Novel (The Parker County Novels Book 1) Page 20