Chapter 15
Nolan
I attempt to slam the door to my truck closed only to have an artic blast slap it back open.
Fuck!
I’m so over this shit.
Between the plummeting temps causing my nuts to freeze to my thigh and the UFC inspired wind that won’t let anyone fucking tap out, I can’t wait to get my ass home.
Warm up.
Drink something hot.
Fuck something hotter.
Or two somethings hotter.
My second try at shutting the door ends eerily similar to the first.
Which is bullshit.
It ain’t like I’m that fucking weak.
Definitely less weak now considering how much I’ve been trying to lift to prove to The Kid I’ve still got it.
That his future husband can compete with whatever Matchbox knockoff pulls up next to him on the street.
Then again hauling bags of salt all around town between delivering emergency supplies ain’t exactly light work either.
That’s probably why I’m on the struggle bus.
Fuck, I don’t remember the last time my back hurt this much.
Got half a mind to have Rabbit roleplay as a massage stripper.
Get her to rub me then rub me.
Finally getting the damn thing shut barely precedes Post strolling around his own vehicle that he just exited with an amused grin. “They weren’t kiddin’ about aggressive winds, huh?”
A less than entertained grunt is the only retort I give.
Most of the time, you can’t trust a goddamn thing those point and wish wannabe weather wizards say.
Especially in Texas.
If I had Kid blow me for every “storm” that’s been accurate this past year, my balls would ache worse than my back does.
I swear those fuckers just try to predict this shit with a Magic Eightball.
The two of us make our way to the main entrance of the police department building one right after another, heads down in hopes of avoiding additional bursts of cold punching us in the face.
One almost knocked my ass clear out while salting Ms. Beekman’s front porch.
She technically lives on the outskirts of town but in the county.
And as much as she appreciated the needed help – her husband died over the summer – I didn’t appreciate the chicken welcoming committee I had to maneuver around on top of the shit that took Dorothy to Oz.
Thank fuck, Kid swore he wouldn’t go out driving in this.
It honestly gave me one less thing to stress about.
Having Rabbit spend all afternoon out of our direct sights is enough.
More than fucking enough.
I would’ve been incessantly texting her if I had even a ball hair of time to spare.
But I didn’t have that.
There was barely time to piss.
Once we’re inside the small building not meant to house many people at one time, Post makes a two-finger gesture to instruct that I continue to follow behind him.
“Help me load up these last few boxes, and then you’re good to head out.
” At the back of the building, he turns to the left to veer towards the supply closets rather than the holding cells.
“I know Fred’s got that backup generator and shit for the clinic, but I also know the emergency vehicle could use a few more supplies.
And come to think of it…” his concerned gaze momentarily finds mine, “so could the Wayland’s B however, the second he turns the handle Deputy Ludwig pops his head around the corner, salt and peppered beard covered face cringing. “Hate to delay ya, Boss, but she’s back.” He flashes the two of us a small cringe. “ Again. ”
“ Ohforfuckssake, ” mutters Post in obvious exasperation. “Alright. Go ahead and put her in my office.”
“She um…” Ludwig tugs uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt, “wants to speak with you now.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“ Now, now. ”
“Like here in the damn hallway?”
“Correct.”
The surrendering of his hands precedes another exhausted sigh. “Let her through.”
“Let who through?” barely has time to leap past my lips.
“Sheriff Post,” unhappily states an almost painfully thin, slightly older than me, blonde woman upon her entering of the area, “you will speak with me now.”
A large, well-built male stations himself slightly behind her at the same time Post politely grins. “Of course, Mrs. McAdams.” The hand on the door is relocated to his pocket. “What can I do for ya today?”
McAdams.
As in…
“I want to discuss your findings regarding the whereabouts of my son.”
Yup.
That McAdams.
Folding my arms protectively across my chest is accompanied by drinking in the pale, sharp faced woman that from first glance appears to have given her son all of her looks.
Not sure who that’s more uncomfortable for.
Her or him.
Guess her since he’s dead.
“Unfortunately, Mrs. McAdams, there have been no new developments at this time.”
Her ice-cold glare becomes harsher. “And why not?”
“We have received no new information.”
And they won’t .
Because there is no new information to receive.
Although her being here…in…fucking…town… and us unaware is new information.
Why weren’t we alerted?
Why didn’t Garcia or Zero let us fucking know?
Do they know?
How do they not know?
They’re supposed to be keeping tabs on her and her husband.
My eyes steal a brief glimpse of the earpiece wearing male I have no doubt is not her husband.
Nah.
He’s paid muscle.
Bit of an upgrade from the mercs they initially sent hunting our woman but still.
Definitely a gun for hire.
“And have you went looking for new information?” interrogates the thin figured woman wearing a long, gray, rabbit skinned fur coat. “Or have you been too busy building tree forts around town with Deputy Dufus’s future replacement here?”
Ludwig gives a small suck to his teeth, does his best to politely grin, and motions his head towards the main room. “I’m gonna get to saltin’ the walkway.”
“Thanks,” is muttered in a dismissing nature prior to him resuming his conversation with the woman responsible for creating a literal monster. “Beverly-”
“ Mrs. ” she bites in a merciless tone. “ McAdams. ”
“Forgive me,” Post promptly pleads. “ Mrs. McAdams , I understand your current state of distress-”
“ Do you? ” Her two steps forward reverberate around the narrow hall. “Do you know what it’s like to have your child…the person you brought into this world… the person you love most in this world…the person you simply exist for…disappear without a trace?”
Creepy.
Fucking. Creepy.
Clearly that shit runs in their DNA.
“No, ma’am, I do not.”
Another stomp towards us is taken. “Do you know what it’s like to have more questions than answers regarding your only child’s…your greatest ally’s whereabouts?”
Telling choice of words, if I do say so myself.
“No, ma’am, I do not.”
“Do you have any idea how miserable it feels not knowing whether they’re dead or alive ?”
It takes every urge in me not to smirk.
She deserves this.
She deserves this and so much more for what she let her son do and for whatever the fuck she helped him do to Rabbit.
We don’t talk much about it.
But we know it’s bad.
Disturbingly bad.
“No, ma’am, I do not.”
“Then don’t you dare try to tell me you understand my feelings.”
He gingerly lifts his hands in surrender a second time. “I didn’t mean any disrespect, Mrs. McAdams.”
“It seems that’s all you’ve done since I’ve been in this godforsaken shit hole.”
There isn’t time for him to respond.
“I gave you clear and concise evidence that he came here-”
“You gave me circumstantial evidence at best, ma’am,” Post surprisingly corrects.
“I provided you with statements from witnesses indicating this was his destination.”
“Yes, but the online investigation we conducted indicates it was not.”
“His car was located at a lot just one town over!”
“Which happens more often than one might realize.” All of a sudden, he gives me a small nudge. “Tell her, Nolan. You do most of the towin’ around here.”
At that her vision slowly cuts to me.
Slices.
Dices.
Does everything it can to intimidate me more than likely aware of who I am.
“Oh?” Her light eyebrows critically lift. “ Is that so? ”
Despite her efforts, my position nor demeanor shifts. “Yes.”
“Did you tow my son’s car?”
“I’m unaware of who your son is, and I’m also unaware of the date you’re questioning as you have not mentioned one.”
The corner of her lip twitches in the slightest. “Brad.”
Just the sound of that asshole’s name feels like a screwdriver between the ribs.
“ Brad. McAdams. ”
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” emotionlessly leaves me.
“City boy,” Post and I momentarily meet gazes, the slow blink indicating he knows exactly who the fucker is. “Came around these parts for a solo vacation-”
“He would never take a solo vacation!”
“Near Christmas.”
“Which is something he would’ve wanted to spend with me! I’m his whole world!”
“Went campin’-”
“He would never go camping! It’s disgusting!”
“And no one’s seen him since.” Post’s other hand is casually shoved into his pocket. “Mrs. McAdams came in searching for information a couple days ago at which time I gave her everything I knew about the situation.”
Not a blatant lie.
He’s aware of who McAdams is.
What he’s done to an extent.
What he’s capable of to another.
He also believes Rabbit is one of our town’s and we protect our own.
That trumps all other bullshit.
“Weren’t you off around Christmas?” The casual inquiry from him has me nodding. “Somethin’ was wrong with the truck, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.” My stare shifts back to hers. “Couldn’t tow shit at the time even if I wanted to.”
Disbelief lingers in her unyielding glare.
“As I previously mentioned,” Post calmly recaptures the conversation, “camping out in these woods without a guide isn’t illegal, just highly unrecommended due to the dangers that lurk.
” The subtle undertone of his statement once more threatens to have me grinning.
“Much like trying to rely on a regular phone versus a sat, something a guide – had he chosen to have one – would’ve had for worst case scenarios. ”
Her increasingly narrowing vision only sparks more humor for me.
“If you would like, I can have a couple of volunteers from the county conduct a courtesy search of the potential areas in which Brad might’ve ventured into-”
“ Yes, ” she bitterly insists prior to gesturing to the guard behind her, “and I will supply several of my own to aid in his retrieval.”
“ However ,” Post firmly interjects, “such search will have to wait until after the winter storm has fully passed as guaranteeing the health and safety of the people of my town are always and will always be my top priority.”
His less than subtle reminder successfully gets me to smile.
That’s exactly what he’s doing right now.
Protecting us and whatever it is he thinks we’ve done.
“ Fine… ” Beverly nefariously concedes, speech slow. Menacing. “ Just remember that I tried to do things the nice way, Sheriff. ”