as least he could claim as the truth.
“She said you cared about the victims— maybe too much. That you had a temper but mostly controlled it. That you could handle yourself in a fight or on the gun range, and you worked well with other officers.”
“You asked all that?”
“I like to get a feel for people who come to my attention.”
“And?” What do you feel about me? Can I measure up? Did Olson mention I’m gay?
“I’m keeping an open mind.” She smiled slightly. “You do realize I already have several applicants for those open deputy spots.”
“Then why are they still open?” He regretted the sharpness of his tone the moment he heard it, but it was too late to call it back. He added, “You’re clearly stretched thin,” to soften it.
“The wrong cop is worse than none.” She looked him up and down. “Anyway, our local regs say you have to be a resident for at least sixty days, have a North Carolina driver’s license, and qualify for a concealed carry permit. You don’t qualify. Yet.”
“Another month, I will.”
“You can pick up an application then.”
“Or I could join the militia group now.”
Her eyes flashed. “Is that a threat?”
“What? God, no. An offer.”
“Of?”
“Eyes and ears in the right place?” He felt a shiver of excitement. He’d hoped for a badge, but there was something to be said for this too.
“Like an informant?”
“I prefer to think of it like being undercover.” He leaned on the table, projecting confidence. “You need to know what’s going on. If they’re really a home guard, well, I can do a little good and no harm keeping an eye on them. If they’re something else, you get the inside scoop.”
She frowned. “Don’t let Sam’s stupidity lull you. Reggie Urban’s smarter and a lot tougher, and some of his friends are downright dangerous. If he invites you to join, it’ll be mainly to watch you.”
“I worked undercover for a drug lord. I’ve fought in biker bars. I can handle dangerous.”
“I can’t ask a civilian to do something like that.”
“Well, you can’t stop me.” He offered his most charming smile.
“They’ll find out you were a cop pretty damned fast.”
“They know already. Sam knew and I told them up front. But they have those two deputies. They aren’t anti-cop. At least, not against bad cops. A bit of tweaking and I can look like I was pretty bad. Tell them I quit just ahead of being fired for misconduct up in Minneapolis.”
“And then what?”
“Get their trust. See what they’re doing. Are they charging for protection? Are they causing any of the damage themselves, besides Isasac’s?”
“And?”
“Report back to you, if you give me a secure way to do that.”
She gave him a long, measuring look. “I can’t give you any official backing. My department lawyer would have fits. Anyway, it’s probably just a few guys talking tough, but if you happen to hear something useful, I do want to know. You have your phone?”
“Yeah. Sure.” He pulled it out.
“Enter this, then.” She rattled off a string of numbers, while he tried to keep up.
He pushed enter on his phone and heard hers ring.
“Right. That’s me, personally. Don’t wear it out.”
Nick pocketed his phone and pushed away from the table with a cocky wave of his hand. “I’ll be in touch.”
“I can’t pay for information—”
“Fuck that!” Oops, not the best thing to say to a maybe-boss. But she seemed to be amused.
“If you wanted to accidentally run into Reggie…” She hesitated, then went on, “He owns an outdoor sporting goods store and gun range, about ten miles out on old County Road Thirty.”
“I might be looking to buy a rifle.”
“Don’t do anything stupid, you hear me? No Lone Ranger stuff.”
He gave her a lazy salute and went out down the hallway. The guy at the desk looked up, so Nick produced his very best bland face. Let him guess what his boss thought about Nick, and vice versa. No hints. He kept his stride even as he walked to his car, despite the bubble of excitement in his chest.
He was tempted to head out on County Thirty immediately, but he’d played the game too often for that. Instead, he stopped at the local hardware. After picking up caulk, another paintbrush, a scraper, some more edging tape and sandpaper— not like he could ever buy too much for that dump— he took his purchases to the checkout. As he was counting change, he said casually, “Hey, you don’t sell rifles here, do you?”
“Nope.