“Is it your only one?” I asked.
“Nope. Got eight.”
I stared but I did it with my lips moving.
“Eight?”
“Yup.”
Interesting.
I took a sip of coffee, experienced its goodness, and went on.
“Where’s home?”
“Home?”
“Home. Your house. Where you go when you’re not working.”
“Where I went when I wasn’t working was cabin eleven, Glacier Lily.”
I felt my body go still.
Whoa.
That couldn’t be.
“Really?” I asked.
He glanced at me and back at the road. “Yup.”
“I…you…” I shook my head. “You come to the cabin pretty infrequently.”
“That would be ’cause I work a lot, Cassidy.”
I faced forward but sat back in my seat, trying to process this information.
It was impossible to process that information so I changed topics.
“Can you tell me the difference between Deacon and John Priest?”
There was a moment’s pause before he replied, “Handful of people know me as Deacon.”
He said no more so I looked to him and used the word, “Okay,” as a prompt.
He again glanced at me then back to the road before he went on.
“Every one of them I trust with my life. Every one of them I’d trust with your life.” He paused before he asked, “Do you get that, Cassidy?”
I got it. I liked it. Even if it was slightly scary, it was also kind of sweet.
“Yes,” I answered.
He said nothing further but I decided it was time to get down to it.
That said, I didn’t particularly want to get down to it, but it was time.
So I asked (though I did it cautiously), “Are you a criminal?”