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After grabbing the scones, he returned to his desk and was logging onto his computer when Christian walked in.

“Looks like it might be a slow day today. Only one call so far. Al, how about you take it?”

“No prob, Sheriff. What is it?”

“Possible solicitation over at the Weeping Willow Trailer Park.”

Al sighed, the lurch in his stomach making him glad he hadn’t tried Marina’s scone yet. “Did they say which number?”

“One-one-seven.”

Of course it is.

“Right, I’ll head out now.” He placed the scones in a baggie and stuck them in his desk.

Nick stood up, a knowing look in his eyes. “Not much happening. I’ll go, too.”

Al thought to shrug him off, tell him that was unnecessary, then thought better of it.

“Appreciate it, brother. With that place, I might need the Beast.”

“For you or for her?”

Good question.

***

The Weeping Willow Trailer Park hadn’t changed much in the years since he’d last visited. Five rows of rusted-out trailers made up the park with a few empty slots waiting for the next family to park their home.

Pulling in front of one-one-seven, memories of his last visit filled his mind. He’d just been sworn into office and donned the uniform for the first time. He was eager to show his mother that he’d made something of himself. That he had a proper job with real benefits for once. He should have known that was a mistake.

She’d praised him for his latest con and asked him to steal some drugs from the evidence locker. When he explained itwasn’t a con, and he wasn’t stealing for her, she laughed at him and threw him out. He swore he’d never go back.

“Want me to take it?” Nick asked.

Nick had brought Al home a few times during his teenage years, so he was well aware of the type of woman Ginger was. It was one of the reasons he usually let Al and Ben off with a slap on the wrist and a bag of burgers.

“Nah, I got it.”

Al knocked on the door. “Grimm County Sheriff’s Office, open up!”

After several long moments, the door finally .

Ginger stood in a thin gauzy robe. She’d lost weight, close to fifty pounds if he had to guess. She grinned up at him, showing a few less teeth than the last time. Her hair was still teased and platinum blonde. She raised a hand and set it on the rusty door frame.

“Grimm County’s finest gracing my humble abode. What’s going on? You selling popcorn or something?” she asked, her laughter quickly turning into a hacking cough.

Al sighed. The smell of mildew wafted onto the porch, causing him to take a step back. “Somebody called in a solicitation on you. Turning tricks again?”

“So what if I am? It’s a free country. It’s not like I have a son who takes care of me or anything.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure once your son realized you were the only person who had three light bills and two rent checks due every month, he decided to stop funding your drug habit.” The living room behind her had the same furniture he’d grown up with, only now he could see the metal springs pushing through the surface of the cushions.

“You always were a little shit. My mom told me to abort you, but I refused. She was short sighted. I knew the girls with kids got way more government money than the girls without. Too bad you wrecked my womb so I couldn’t keep going. The way I see it, it’s your fault I had to turn to this life. I could have been a teacher.”

He’d heard this before, but it still stung. “Who’s my dad, Ma?”

“Fuck you.”