Chapter 2 #2
"Sheriff," Walker replied, and moved to the table closest to the counter.
"Good morning, Garrett," Serena said, a genuine smile gracing her face, making what she'd given the Higgins guy seem like a mere shadow. "Here or to go today?"
"To go, please," Hanson replied. Serena turned and began prepping his coffee, and Walker realized the Sheriff was a regular as well, even though they'd never run into each other here before. "Also wanted to see if you'd had any more trouble."
Walker narrowed his eyes at Hanson's words. What trouble?
Serena handed the man his coffee and shook her head. "No, it was a one-time thing," she said.
"What happened?" The words were out of Walker's mouth before he could stop them. She should have told him. They were supposed to be friends.
“Oh nothing,” Serena waved her hand as if to dismiss Garrett’s words. “Bored kids.”
The sheriff didn’t look convinced. “Yeah, I’ll give you it was kids goofing around with your artwork outside,” he said referring to the statuary garden comprised of funky folk art and metal sculptures that lined the entryway to the building.
“That tracks for them, but I don’t like the fact that somebody was messing with your back door. ”
That made Walker sit up straight. “Somebody tried to get inside?”
Serena rolled her eyes at their seriousness.
“It all happened on the same day, late in the afternoon when the shop was closed and I was away from the house,” she said with a little bit of exasperation.
“It was probably the same kids. There’s nothing of real value here, you know that.
In fact, I’d just taken the last load of stuff over to the storage unit, which is why I was out that afternoon.
” She shook her head. “Even thinking about the pile of boxes that Madeline bought at auction before she left gives me the hives. Somewhere in that mess is Mr. Higgins’ precious statuette, and whatever Marlon Jones is looking for. ”
“Mr. Higgins?” Garrett asked, hit of interest in his tone. “And what’s this about Marlon Jones? I’ve been keeping an eye on him since he got out of jail.”
“Both of them are harmless,” Serena said.
“Higgins is exasperating because he’s here every freaking day.
Jones wants a necklace and earrings he saw in here a year ago for a girl he’s romancing.
I haven’t had the time or inclination to go look for either of them.
The inventory I moved to storage is cataloged and marked, but what Madeline left… well, you can guess.”
Garrett made a noncommittal noise, and Walker knew he didn’t agree with her about the men being harmless at all. Walker was in complete concurrence.
While Higgins was an unknown and had appeared non-threatening to Walker’s eye, everyone in town knew about Marlon Jones.
He’d coasted on his looks and prowess on the baseball field for his high school years, but his charm and physical talent had only taken him so far.
When he moved to Phoenix for college, he’d made some questionable friends and been popped for fleecing vulnerable older women who’d fallen for a handsome face and ripped body.
He’d done his time and then come home. Last Walker had heard, he was working at the feed store throwing sacks of grain and flexing for silly high school girls who bought his song and dance about being framed.
Walker shifted the subject, because he was pretty sure Serena was going to throw something at both of them if they kept up their line of questioning.
And as much as he wanted to ease tensions between him and Garrett, he couldn’t help but poke the tiniest bit.
“What are the UFO people up to?” he tried to make his tone innocent but failed miserably.
Vortexes and woo-woo stuff was part of what made this area so interesting and more than a bit crazy.
Now it was Garrett’s turn to roll his eyes.
“Same old, same old,” he said. “It’s all a government conspiracy; we’re hiding aliens and maybe Bigfoot.
Oh, and the locations for interdimensional travel.
” He leveled his gaze on Walker. “I’m surprised they haven’t tried to corner you.
With the notoriety you got last fall and your proximity to Bradshaw Ranch, I think they would have contacted you. ”
Walker shook his head. “I sweet-talked the tourist Jeep tours into downplaying what happened, if anyone asked. And you know Taylor kept the shootout as quiet as he could, at least on the national front. He diverted most of the attention to Vegas, not here. He’d be the one they’d contact, not me.”
That made Garrett a laugh outright. “I’d like to see them try to get around McCullough,” he said.
Walker knew Garrett and Taylor had hit it off when the men from Last Light had been building the ranch, since Taylor had more time to spend there than the rest of them because he wasn’t active duty.
His role in the battle had also weighed a little bit more heavily on him than the rest of them.
They were warriors, each of them used to doing their duty, even Walker and Quentin, whose inexperience had been epic.
Taylor was… different. When he picked up a weapon in that last stand, he'd given up his impartiality as a reporter. It had taken him a while to work through that.
Garrett grabbed his to-go cup and settled his hat back on his head. “Serena, you let me know if you have any more trouble,” he said and dipped a nod in Walker’s direction. “Landry.”
Walker returned the nod, repeating the ritual they’d gone through when Garrett entered. “Sheriff.”
As Garrett left, old-timer Otis Nixon and two of his cronies walked in, looking around the space with a critical gaze, and Walker knew his time with Serena for the morning was truly done.