Griffin said, “Don’t worry, Brewster, as long as you don’t resist, I doubt they’ll shoot you or throw you in your own cell.” He shrugged. “But I could be wrong.”
“Lying little punk,” Brewster said under his breath, but not under enough.
Jewel’s young voice broke a bit when he whispered to Brewster, “Maybe we should call the sheriff, warn him the Feds are coming?”
“Don’t pee your britches, Jewel. Pretty boy here is trying to scare us, that’s all. This is only one more of his lies.”
Jenny said, “Agent Hammersmith isn’t lying. Wait until the FBI wagons pull up, you’re going to be in big trouble. And Brew, you can forget coming in for your tacos and meatloaf. You’re no longer welcome in our eating establishment.”
If Griffin wasn’t mistaken, Brewster stared at her with horror, shaking his head. “No need to be unpleasant, Jenny, I’m only doing my job. Really, only doing my job.”
“Then you’d best be careful how you treat Agent Hammersmith.”
Brewster opened his mouth, probably thought about his meatloaf and tacos, and shut it.
Jewel swallowed, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He shot another scared look at Brewster. “But why would he lie?”
Brewster called out, “He thinks he can rile us, worry us enough to let him go. Not going to happen, so stop your twittering. As for you and the girl, the sheriff said you two are going to stay in jail until Judge Pinder gets back with his walleye and bass and decides what to do with you. But like everyone knows, you never can plan on anything with him.”
Griffin said quietly, “Deputy Brewster, do you have any idea how many laws you’ve broken, interfering with a federal officer? Do you have any idea what I could make happen to the lot of you, beginning with Sheriff Bodine?”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” Brewster said, and took a step forward and raised his fist. He shot a look at Jenny, stepped back. “The Bodines won’t let anything happen, you watch.”
“Brewster—”
Brewster ignored Jewel. “So you keep a civil tongue in your mouth, boy, or I’ll show these visitors out right this minute and put you two mutts back in your cell.”
Jenny ignored him, leaned forward. “Griffin, if your boss hadn’t called Aimée Rose, we wouldn’t have known where you were.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Except, of course, this is one of the first places we’d have come if we couldn’t reach you, hoping for help from the sheriff to find you.” She pointed at Carson. “Okay, now, who is she and why are you two together?”
Carson waved her hand. “I’m Carson DeSilva and I can talk, too. Actually, I ate a late lunch at your café yesterday right after I drove into town. The guy at the gas station told me you were putting Gaffer’s Ridge on the map with your cooking. I’ve got to say that was an outstanding Reuben sandwich, maybe the best I’ve ever had, and I live in New York so that’s saying something. And why am I telling you that? Sorry.” Carson stuck out her hand, heard Brewster snarl, and drew her hand back. “Griffin’s told me a bit about both of you. It’s a pleasure to meet you. It’s true, you two could outcook the White House chef.”
“I think Jenny could, but I’m still learning the finer points,” Aimée Rose said. “So you like our cooking and you somehow hooked up with Griffin today. What happened?”
23
* * *
While Carson told them, without mentioning telepathy, of course, Griffin watched Jenny’s face. Jenny usually looked serene and calm as a Madonna, as if nothing could faze her. She was small and round, with thick dark hair in a ponytail, sweet until someone bad-mouthed someone close to her or her cooking. Then she could turn mean as a Doberman. She was also smart as a whip. Aimée Rose was a good seven inches taller, outweighed Jenny by thirty pounds. Her hair was a short cap around her head, raven black this week, and she looked as tough as one of Griffin’s hiking boots. But, still, he’d always thought Jenny was the tougher of the two.
Carson spoke fast, knowing time was running short. Griffin realized Jenny was studying Carson as she spoke, her eyes cool, assessing. Then Jenny turned to him and slowly nodded. Good, Jenny believed Carson. He trusted her judgment of people.
Griffin picked it up. “I heard Carson yell, but I couldn’t tell which house she was in.