wouldn’t recognize him as the scoundrel he’d caught climbing, bare-ass-naked, out of his daughter’s bedroom window a year ago.
Sheriff Black opened the door in nothing but his boots, boxers and holster. His right hand rested on the grip of a pistol.
Hunter swallowed then raised the visor on his helmet. He tried to mimic Josh’s Colorado accent, but it sounded more British than midwestern. “Hello. My name’s Hunter Brown and I’m looking for a place to keep my bike for a few weeks while I visit my mother’s kinfolk. Could you recommend a good honest man with a well built garage?”
It wouldn’t matter how honest a fella was if thieves could break in.
Sheriff Black opened the door and stepped out onto his sagging porch. He stretched his neck to look around Hunter. “That’s an awful nice piece of machinery. You willing to pay rent?”
“Yes, sir. I am.”
Sheriff Black spit a stream of tobacco off to the side then reached down and scratched his crotch. “I reckon I can look after your bike for a hundred dollars a week.”
“That’s a bit steep.” Hunter was willing to pay the fee, even if it was highway robbery, but if he didn’t argue the sheriff might get suspicious.
“I’ll be guarding it as well as storing it. A hundred a week is a bargain.”
Hunter bit his lip and pretended to be thinking it over.
“I’m a generous man. How about seventy-five?” The sheriff folded his arms across his chest. “No questions asked.”
“I’ve got nothing to hide. Will you take seventy?”
The sheriff frowned then grabbed Hunter’s hand in a tight grip and shook it. “Deal.”
Hunter rolled The Beast into the garage, hooked his helmet over the handle bars and handed Sheriff Black three hundred dollars. “Here’s a month’s rent in advance. I don’t plan to stay that long, but if something should delay me, I’ll pay you one hundred dollars a week to not sell my bike.”
“What if you don’t never come back?”
Hunter took a deep breath and focused on the sheriff’s energy field. The man was hiding something. He was obviously greedy, but was he willing to commit murder in order to steal The Beast? Hunter pulled his phone out and dialed Josh’s number. It went to voice mail, but that didn’t matter. “Hey, Josh. This is Hunter. I’m leaving my bike with Sheriff Black in Whistler’s Gulch. If I’m not home in two months, come get it. And pay the man four hundred dollars rent.”
“How’d you know my name?”
Oh, shit. “My stepfather is well connected. He ran a background check on you before I left.”
Sheriff’s face paled. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Connected how?”
“He owns a casino in Las Vegas.” Most of the casinos in Vegas were legitimate businesses, but Hunter doubted anyone in Boone County knew that. Let the sheriff think the mob would come looking for him if anything happened to Hunter.
“I hope you ain’t planning on going any further east. Folks that wander off into the mountains don’t always come back. We’ve had more missing person reports filed this past month than we have in five years.”
“I’ll be careful.” Hunter adjusted his backpack on his shoulders and started walking. He had a long way to go and the journey would only get more dangerous after dark. He’d told Josh that his heart would lead him to Channie, but the truth of the matter was he needed to be within fifty miles of anything he was hunting. And they needed to be outside so no artificial substance blocked their energy field from the living earth. His power-name didn’t work the same way a heart-bond did. There were a lot more limitations.
He couldn’t feel Channie yet, but he felt something else . Someone else. Someone that felt like family. Shep.
Hunter’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He jumped then nearly dropped it in his hurry to answer it. He didn’t recognize the number on the screen. “Hello?”
“Hunter? Is that you?”
“Shep?”
“Where
Sheriff Black opened the door in nothing but his boots, boxers and holster. His right hand rested on the grip of a pistol.
Hunter swallowed then raised the visor on his helmet. He tried to mimic Josh’s Colorado accent, but it sounded more British than midwestern. “Hello. My name’s Hunter Brown and I’m looking for a place to keep my bike for a few weeks while I visit my mother’s kinfolk. Could you recommend a good honest man with a well built garage?”
It wouldn’t matter how honest a fella was if thieves could break in.
Sheriff Black opened the door and stepped out onto his sagging porch. He stretched his neck to look around Hunter. “That’s an awful nice piece of machinery. You willing to pay rent?”
“Yes, sir. I am.”
Sheriff Black spit a stream of tobacco off to the side then reached down and scratched his crotch. “I reckon I can look after your bike for a hundred dollars a week.”
“That’s a bit steep.” Hunter was willing to pay the fee, even if it was highway robbery, but if he didn’t argue the sheriff might get suspicious.
“I’ll be guarding it as well as storing it. A hundred a week is a bargain.”
Hunter bit his lip and pretended to be thinking it over.
“I’m a generous man. How about seventy-five?” The sheriff folded his arms across his chest. “No questions asked.”
“I’ve got nothing to hide. Will you take seventy?”
The sheriff frowned then grabbed Hunter’s hand in a tight grip and shook it. “Deal.”
Hunter rolled The Beast into the garage, hooked his helmet over the handle bars and handed Sheriff Black three hundred dollars. “Here’s a month’s rent in advance. I don’t plan to stay that long, but if something should delay me, I’ll pay you one hundred dollars a week to not sell my bike.”
“What if you don’t never come back?”
Hunter took a deep breath and focused on the sheriff’s energy field. The man was hiding something. He was obviously greedy, but was he willing to commit murder in order to steal The Beast? Hunter pulled his phone out and dialed Josh’s number. It went to voice mail, but that didn’t matter. “Hey, Josh. This is Hunter. I’m leaving my bike with Sheriff Black in Whistler’s Gulch. If I’m not home in two months, come get it. And pay the man four hundred dollars rent.”
“How’d you know my name?”
Oh, shit. “My stepfather is well connected. He ran a background check on you before I left.”
Sheriff’s face paled. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Connected how?”
“He owns a casino in Las Vegas.” Most of the casinos in Vegas were legitimate businesses, but Hunter doubted anyone in Boone County knew that. Let the sheriff think the mob would come looking for him if anything happened to Hunter.
“I hope you ain’t planning on going any further east. Folks that wander off into the mountains don’t always come back. We’ve had more missing person reports filed this past month than we have in five years.”
“I’ll be careful.” Hunter adjusted his backpack on his shoulders and started walking. He had a long way to go and the journey would only get more dangerous after dark. He’d told Josh that his heart would lead him to Channie, but the truth of the matter was he needed to be within fifty miles of anything he was hunting. And they needed to be outside so no artificial substance blocked their energy field from the living earth. His power-name didn’t work the same way a heart-bond did. There were a lot more limitations.
He couldn’t feel Channie yet, but he felt something else . Someone else. Someone that felt like family. Shep.
Hunter’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He jumped then nearly dropped it in his hurry to answer it. He didn’t recognize the number on the screen. “Hello?”
“Hunter? Is that you?”
“Shep?”
“Where
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