Page 41 of Rangers Last Promise

That shouldn’t bother me.

It doesn’t.

I tell myself that twice.

Sheriff Tate picks up his radio.

“Trigger, you’re with me. Wolf, lock the doors and keep everyone away from the windows. Doc, wait here until we bring your truck to the alley.”

“I can cover the street.”

“You can do what I tell you while you’re in my county.”

Doc studies him for a long moment.

Then he nods.

I almost smile.

It’s nice to know I’m not the only person Sheriff Tate orders around.

Twenty minutes later, Doc’s truck is parked behind the tavern.

The rain has weakened to a steady drizzle, but thunder still rolls somewhere beyond the edge of town. Sheriff Tate’s deputies have blocked both ends of the alley. Portable work lights illuminate the brick walls, the Dumpster, and the wet pavement.

I stand inside the kitchen doorway while Doc walks out and circles his truck.

He checks beneath the chassis, studies each tire, and shines a flashlight along the doorframes before touching the handle.

I recognize the methodical search.

“You think someone tampered with it.”

He glances toward me. “You were told to stay upstairs.”

“I was told I’m staying upstairs tonight. I wasn’t told when tonight begins.”

“Does that work on Sheriff Tate?”

“Never.”

“Then why try it on me?”

“Because you don’t know me well enough to anticipate all my arguments.”

“I knew Grant. I’m catching up quickly.”

He examines the lock on the driver’s door.

Scratches mark the metal around it.

I step outside.

Doc immediately lifts one hand.

“Stop.”

I do.