Page 29 of Breaking His Exile

“I wasn’t asking,” River said.

“I know.” Brandt didn’t look back. His eyes stayed on the road, watching the yellow line unspool under the tires. “That’s why I’m telling you how it’s going to work. You’re with me. You follow my lead. You don’t talk to anyone unless I tell you to. And if the Sons of Sin are in there, you keep your mouth shut and let me handle it.”

River’s jaw tightened, but he nodded once.

The truck slowed as Brandt turned off the highway onto a narrow county road. The pavement gave way to gravel, and the tires kicked up a dust cloud that hung behind them.

“Another thing,” Brandt said. “You don’t touch anyone. You don’t raise your voice. You don’t get within arm’s reach of a patch-holder. Understand?”

“Yes,” River said.

Brandt glanced in the rearview mirror, and his gaze caught X’s for just a second. “That goes for both of you.”

X held up his hands. “Don’t got to worry about me, vato. I don’t have a death wish.”

“Good.”

The Dead Marshall looked exactly the way a place called The Dead Marshall ought to look. Weathered boards the color of old bone. A roof that sagged in the middle like a swaybacked horse. The sign above the door hung crooked, its painted letters flaking, and the gravel lot was empty except for a pickup with a dented tailgate and a Harley parked near the side entrance.

X worried the silver ring on his right hand, spinning it once, twice. The knot in his gut pulled tighter.

Brandt parked the truck at the edge of the lot, angled toward the road like he was already planning the exit. He killed the engine and sat for a long moment, scanning the building, the tree line, the empty highway behind them. X watched his eyes move and tried to see what he was seeing. Nothing moved. No music spilled from inside.

“We talk to the owner first.” Brandt’s voice was low, all business. “His name’s Lyle Ferris. He was behind the bar that night. You two stay back unless I signal.”

River was already reaching for the door handle. X caught his arm before he could pull it.

“Hey.” X waited until River looked at him. “You go in there cool, man. You hear me? You don’t start shit.”

River’s jaw worked, but something behind his eyes clicked back into place. Not the old happy, grinning River, but a version that might pass for sane.

“Yeah,” he said. “Got it.”

They got out. The air smelled like dust and pine, old beer and garbage gone too long in the heat. X fell in behind Brandt, matching his pace, keeping River between them.

The door was heavy, warped, and it stuck when Brandt shouldered it open. Inside, the bar was dark and close, the only light coming from a few neon signs buzzing over the pool table and the weak sun pushing through dirty windows. The place was mostly empty. Just a few old timers warming bar stools and some guys playing pool.

Lyle Ferris stood behind the bar, drying a glass with a rag that had seen better days. He was skinny and grizzled, and looked up with his one good eye when they came in. His face did something complicated before it settled into a smile.

“Afternoon, gents.” His voice wasn’t exactly friendly. “What can I get you?”

Brandt laid his badge on the bar.

Lyle glanced at it. “Marshal.”

“I need to ask you about Friday night.”

“I figured.”

“Rux Granger. Evander Cole. The woman.” Brandt’s voice was quiet. “Tell me what happened.”

Lyle wiped a glass. Set it down and reached for another. “Man came in. Sat at the end of the bar. Had a dog. Woman came in later with a guitar and asked to play for tips. Said she ran out of gas, and I told her she wouldn’t get far on just tips since the nearest gas station is fifteen miles down the mountain. She looked tired, you know? Plum worn out. So I told her to play a set and offered her the gas can I keep for my generator as payment. She started playing, and, gotta say, she was good. Everyone stopped to listen. Rux and two of his boys walked in about halfway through her second song.” He paused. Squinted at the glass. “Cole went for Rux. No warning. Just crossed the room and put him on the ground. Stabbed him with Rux’s own knife. Then he grabbed the woman and dragged her out the back. The other two went after them. Truck was gone by the time they hit the parking lot.”

“That’s the story you gave county,” Brandt said.

“That’s what happened.”

“Then explain this.” Brandt leaned forward. “If Cole attacked without provocation and dragged the woman out against her will, why did she take her guitar? It was in the case when she came in. It was in the case when she left. A woman being abducted doesn’t stop to collect her belongings.”