But on his way to pick up more caulk at the hardware in town, it was natural to swing past. Right, it was only nine miles out of your way.
Still, since he was here, and there were a couple of cruisers parked in the lot, he decided he might as well go inside.
Today, the desk was manned by an older deputy with bushy eyebrows a shade darker than his copper skin. He looked up as Nick came in, eyes penetrating and shrewd. “Can I help you?”
Nick took a quick look at the badge on his chest. No name. Deputy sheriff, the county logo and shield and a number. “Is the sheriff around?”
The deputy glanced down the hall, a pretty clear tell for yes. “She’s busy right now. Are you reporting a crime?”
“Not exactly.”
“In need of help?”
“No.” Nick jerked his chin up under the man’s stare.
“You want to tell me what this is about, sir?”
“I need to speak to the sheriff. About a case I was a witness to.”
“The Gas-Food arson case? You can speak to me about that.”
Nick shoved down a moment of surprise. Small town. No secrets. Well, not many. “I want to speak to Gannet.”
“She might be a while.”
Nick took a seat in one of the chairs, deliberately choosing the one he’d had on Christmas Eve. “I’ll wait.”
“Your funeral.” The man at the desk went back to typing with four fingers on his keyboard, entering some kind of report. Or hell, writing porn. How would I know?
Nick set himself to wait with simple patience, like a stakeout, senses alert, mind disengaged.
It was perhaps half an hour later when a door down the hall opened and the sheriff emerged, saying, “Eddie, I want you to—” She cut the words off as she caught sight of Nick, and her strides slowed. “Mr. Rugo, what can I do for you?”
He stood. “Hey, Sheriff, I came across some information I thought I might pass along.”
She tilted her head, expression skeptical. “What information?”
“Can we talk somewhere private?”
The man at the desk commented, “He don’t trust me.”
Nick said, “I don’t trust hardly anyone.” He raised an eyebrow at the sheriff.
Gannet hesitated, then said, “All right. Back here, Rugo.”
Nick followed her into a small conference room. The sheriff didn’t sit, just closed the door and leaned against it. “Talk.”
“Right. I met Sam in the Westridge country store yesterday, with some big guy named Reggie.”
“His cousin. So?”
“Sam said he wasn’t charged with anything. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t an issue with my testimony?”
“No. Just biding my time. Is that all?”
“Reggie suggested that he and some others were putting together a kind of vigilante protection service, to go around hunting the vandals that you can’t seem to catch.”
He was watching closely but still barely made out the flicker of distaste, or maybe worry, in her eyes. “And?”
“I wondered how you see that problem. Because that seems like a straight-up challenge to your office. Could be they’re also the ones doing the vandalism, to set themselves in business.”
She straightened immediately. “Did they say anything directly to give you that impression?”
“Not exactly. But he did say they were going to farm the idea out to property owners, and they had a couple of your former deputies on board. If it really was meant to back you up, they wouldn’t boast about the guys you got rid of. And Sam was real comfortable with his cousin’s militia talk, for someone who was caught red-handed.”
She nodded, her eyes far away as she thought about that. Then she came back to the present with a blink. “I appreciate the information.” He couldn’t tell what, if any of it, was news to her. Good poker face. “Anything else?”
“I want to help.”
“How?”
He spread his hands. “Your call. You need more deputies, for one thing.” He’d been mulling it over the whole way here, and decided it was a chance to ask.
She studied him. “I did call your old boss.”
He managed not to shift his feet. “What did she say?”
“When I asked if I could trust your word, she said, ‘That depends.’”
He winced.
“When I asked if you would flat out lie about a crime, she said it would be out of character, but not impossible, to protect someone else.”
That wasn’t a lot better. Some, maybe.
“She did say you were a good undercover officer, when you didn’t let personal shit complicate things. That I could count on you not to take a bribe, or let some bigshot make you look the other way.”