CHAPTER 3
RHODES
The moment I park my Sheriff vehicle and step out, I take a deep breath. When I look around Dogwood Ridge, it looks very similar to Sweetwater Valley. Still, it feels like I shouldn’t be here, like I’m behind enemy lines or something.
It’s a holdover from the years when the rivalry between the two towns was fostered on sports fields by kids who didn’t know any better.
Maybe there was more to it at one point.
Maybe it is all about money and status or something equally ridiculous.
Either way, it tends to be easier to stick on my side of the ridge line and in my county.
“Wilder,” is called out and I turn toward the sound to find Sheriff Lyons striding in my direction.
He’s not smiling. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the man smile, honestly, but he’s not scowling as deeply as I’ve seen in the past.
“Lyons,” I greet with a nod.
When he’s close enough, we share a handshake before heading into the building. I follow him toward Mayor Cowell’s office, and we both give a nod to his secretary who waves us in, as if it was even needed, considering Lyons’s strides don’t slow.
He knocks on the door and opens it when we hear from inside, “Come in.”
Edgar Cowell has a large, welcoming smile on his face, one which feels just as fake as it looks. Shaking his hand makes me feel slimy, but at the same time I know how to play the game and keep a polite smile on my face even if it feels a little brittle.
Once we all sit, Cowell’s secretary comes bustling in with three cups of coffee. I’m not surprised; she has been efficient and professional every time I’ve met with these men. She’s in and out in under thirty seconds and my coffee is exactly how I like it—black with sugar.
“Now,” Edgar steeples his fingers under his chin as he leans over his desk, an attempt at a power move which doesn’t land with me, “what’s going on with the dog fighting operation? Are there any leads?”
I share a look with Lyons who leans forward as I take a sip of my coffee. “I wish I had a better update,” Lyons begins, his voice grave, “but I don’t. We’ve both been in contact with the surrounding counties while spreading our deputies out as much as possible to keep eyes on the area.”
With a nod, I throw in my agreement, “I have my deputies checking out the hidey holes in the county, but there hasn’t been any sign of them.
Lyons has been doing the same over here and the surrounding counties have as well.
” Exasperation fills my words, “We don’t really know how many counties these people are moving between which means it’s hard to know where to look next.
Even though we’ve alerted other counties, not everyone is able to devote time to something which might not even be a problem within their jurisdiction. ”
“Exactly,” Lyons agrees while sitting back in his chair slightly.
“They can keep their eyes open, but these people know how to hide out and keep a low profile. It’s the only reason they were able to set up shop in the area in the first place.
They cross county lines and start up again, making it a lot harder to track. ”
“Even if they don’t,” I muse, “if they lay low long enough, maybe raising new dogs considering the number they left behind when we found their fighting ring abandoned, or gaining new connections, it’s easier for them to start up again.”
Edgar’s shoulders drop and he nods while taking a few sips of his coffee. His eyebrows are drawn together like he’s thinking over the update, which is thinner than I would like it to be.
“Everyone is still whispering about the lack of movement on this. I thought it would die down, but it hasn’t,” he tells us.
Something clicks inside of me. I suspected he was only interested in how this looked, especially the lack of someone being held accountable, but his words just solidify it. It’s the whispers he doesn’t like and how they could be turned back on him.
“It’s not just you at risk here, Sheriff,” Edgar continues while shooting a look at Lyons. “There needs to be movement on this.”
Even though Edgar is sitting behind the mayor’s desk, where his gold name plate is gleaming and polished to perfection, he comes off as weak. I’m thankful, again, that he’s not my mayor and I don’t answer to him.
My appearance at this meeting is a courtesy to Lyons. I’m more than willing to work with the Sheriff. He’s a stoic hard ass, but I know he does care about the safety of those in his county. Even if he can’t seem to do a damn thing about the motorcycle club which practically runs Dogwood Ridge.
“We can’t move on information or evidence we don’t have,” Lyons grits the words out through his teeth.
I can’t say I don’t understand his frustration; I completely get it.
“You couldn’t run down anything on the property?” Edgar’s question has me sitting back in my chair because it’s bold as fuck considering the man hasn’t worn a badge and sure as fuck isn’t out in a cruiser looking for the people who are behind this.
Lyons pinches the bridge of his nose. “They rented the house and the land. All the identification was fake, and it was all paid for in cash. There’s nothing to track there.”
“They paid over cost for the rent,” I point out remembering that tidbit from the information Lyons sent my way. “People aren’t going to turn that down, not in this economy.”
“Yeah,” Edgar grunts and cuts his eyes away from me.
If he wants to say something, he can. It’s not my town where half the economy has ties to a motorcycle club.
That’s all him.
“It’s the same pattern we’ve found in other counties. But until they pop their heads up and we get a bead on them, we’re out of luck. Someone could call in with information, but it’s a long shot,” the frustration in Lyons’s voice is clear to hear as he huffs and rolls his eyes.
He’s not wrong. The likelihood of someone calling in a tip which leads somewhere is slim, but it could happen. I won’t be holding my breath.
“I’ll take a miracle at this point,” Edgar grumbles.
What I don’t say, what the look I share with Lyons screams, is that it might take something like that. Sure, we can keep our eyes and ears open. We’ll keep doing what we’re doing, but even then, without anything to go on, the investigation can only last so long.
That’s the truth of it.
We’ve spread the information we have. Whoever is behind the ring might not even get picked up in this county. They might not originate from it either.
“Look,” I lean forward, “we’ve spread the information. Now it’s a matter of waiting to see where they pop up next. The likelihood of them just stopping is small. And if they cross state lines?” I click my tongue. “That’s another issue and makes things even more difficult.”
“Right,” Lyons’s agrees with me easily.
Edgar runs his hand over his jaw and nods before standing up. I do the same along with Raymond. He shakes both of our hands. “You should make sure you grab a piece of the Orange Creamsicle Moonshine Cake at Dolly’s before you leave town,” he suggests to me. “They’re famous for it.”
I perk up and nod, “That sounds delicious. I think I will. I saw it as I came in,” I assure him, not wanting him to feel obligated to give me directions or something.
“I’ll be heading back to the station,” Lyons chuckles.
“Well, me too,” I defend myself with a grin, “I’ll just be making a stop on the way.”
Both men laugh as Lyons swings open the mayor’s office door.
I look through the doorway to see a gorgeous woman standing at the secretary’s desk, her fingers twisting together like she’s nervous.
Her hair, a riot of brown tones, as it falls around her and down her back, a thick mane which I’m desperate to run my fingers through.
She looks up at me and our eyes lock. The gold flecks in her brown eyes catch the light and fucking glow.
I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman. There’s something warm about her, something that makes me want to step closer.
She’s wearing a simple dress with long sleeves and a high neckline.
But her legs are covered in bright tights which almost look out of place.
“Helen,” Edgar greets pleasantly, but there’s something plastic about it. I barely swallow down the growl threatening to slip past my lips when she breaks our eye contact and looks toward the mayor.
My heart is pounding against the inside of my chest, and I swallow hard to try and fight against the way my mouth has gone suddenly dry.
I want to hear her laugh.
It’s the oddest thought, the strangest desire I’ve ever had upon seeing a woman for the first time, but it rings through me all the same.
“Dad,” Helen’s voice is smooth, practiced in a way which has my hand clenching into a fist at my side. Her eyes flick toward me before going back to her dad—fuck me, her dad—before landing on Sheriff Lyons. The smile on her face is polite, but, somehow, I know it’s dimmed. “Hello, Sheriff.”
“Helen,” he greets her with a nod of his head. Polite, but not necessarily welcoming.
“I saw Ezra earlier today at Bunz Out,” she offers, her voice is awkward in a way I don’t like.
Ezra? Who the fuck is Ezra?
Lyons scoffs, “Please tell me she wasn’t wearing one of her shirts.”
Helen blinks and clears her throat. “I thought it was funny,” she offers and I can tell she’s trying not to wince, “and the kids love them.”
When she glances my way again, Edgar turns toward me with a practiced smile on his face that makes me want to curl my lip. “Sheriff Wilder,” he intones, “this is my daughter, Helen.”
I hold my hand out, everything in me on edge waiting for her to slide her hand into mine. “Rhodes,” my voice is a deep rumble, “please. It’s nice to meet you, Helen.”
Her eyes flare and the moment our skin touches the hair on the back of my neck stands up and I have to clench my jaw to stop myself from reacting. Fuck, it feels like I’ve just been punched in the gut.
My nostrils flare and I take a deep breath, her honey and anise scent wraps around me while I give her hand a squeeze in acknowledgement of this connection.
Her eyes are big and round as she looks up at me, and it takes everything in me to let go of her hand instead of using my hold to pull her against my chest.
Something tells me Edgar Cowell wouldn’t appreciate me making such a bold move.
Although, considering the way he’s side eyeing me, I have a feeling that he’s not completely unaware of the way I can’t help but stare at his daughter. And I sure as fuck am not going to apologize for it.
This woman is meant to be mine.
The fact that there has always been a rivalry between our towns doesn’t matter. The fact that she’s the mayor’s daughter doesn’t even factor into this.
Hell, I’m not even concerned about not knowing anything about her other than her name and her familial relationship with the mayor.
We’ll have the rest of our lives to get to know each other.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of you leaving the clerk’s office and stopping in to see me?” Edgar’s question is jovial, but there’s steel underneath it which I don’t like one bit.
I give Helen a nod before stepping past her and into the reception area. Do I take in another lungful of her scent? You better fucking believe it.
“I thought you might be free for lunch,” Helen’s voice is bright, but I swear I can see reluctance written on her face when I look at her.
“Of course,” Edgar practically crows, “I always have time for lunch with my daughter.”
The smile on Helen’s face freezes and holds. She turns toward me and her eyes flare with a fire I don’t understand. But I sure as fuck want to fan it and watch it catch.
“Mayor Cowell,” my voice is smooth and I manage to tear my eyes away from Helen long enough to shake the man’s hand, “It was nice seeing you again. I’ll be sure to continue to loop Sheriff Lyons in on anything I find,” I assure him.
I’m not sure whether his care is genuine or not, but if I don’t air on the side of caution on this one, I’m going to drive myself mad.
Looking back at Helen, my voice softens slightly, “Helen.”
Her lips part slightly and her cheeks pink just enough. “Sheriff,” she shoots back as she looks up at me from underneath her lashes.
The flecks of gold in her brown eyes flash with heat and I know I’ll chase this woman to the ends of the earth if I need to. Hopefully, it won’t come to that.
Apparently, I’m going to need to come up with a lot more reasons to visit Dogwood Ridge. I file away the fact that the mayor mentioned the clerk’s office and can only assume he means the county clerk. If she works there, that information might come in handy in the future.
One thing is for sure. Helen is mine.