Page 35
Story: Stormy Ride
The last person I wanted to see was that fuckin bank jockey, but there he was all dressed up in a suit and tie. “Could I have a moment of your time, Sheriff?”
“Come into my office.”
I pointed to a chair. Ravary sat down, stared at me, and never said anything.
“What did I do now? I gave you what you wanted. Why are you here?”
“Olivia ended our relationship.”
I shrugged. “Not because of anything I did. I told her I was standing down. I didn’t know about you, and she didn’t bother to tell me, so you can be as pissed off as you want at her.”
He stared but raised an eyebrow as if he didn’t know what I was talking about.
He wasn’t saying a damned thing, so I kept going. “Olivia asked me to the Inn for dinner so we could talk, and I didn’t go. She tracked me down at the roadhouse and again I saidno. As far as I can tell, I’m in the clear.”
“I didn’t know any of that.”
“That’s right. You didn’t, and that’s why I’m telling you now. You want to try again with her, go for it. I’m busy solving a murder and tracking down a couple of killers and I’ve got no time for screwing around.”
Ravary stood up. “I’ll let you get back to work, Sheriff.”
“Appreciate it.”
Ravary dragged his ass out of my office and my cell rang. Gloria Grafton telling me my kid was ready for pickup.
“Pick him up at noon, Sheriff. Can you make it to Great Falls by then?”
I checked the time on my phone. “I think I can if I leave now. Thanks for the quick work.”
“It just happened that a fifteen-year-old boy is being released today and he’s trouble. Harlan has run away from seven foster homes already.”
“What’s on his juvie sheet?”
“Various petty crimes. Mostly what I call ‘survival stealing’ when he was between foster homes.”
“I get it. I’m on my way right now. Will he have a caseworker?”
“She’ll contact you and come for a visit to your residence.”
“Okay. I’m out the door. Thanks again, Gloria.”
“I’m anxious to see how this works out for you, Sheriff Frost.”
I filled Molly in, called the dogs and ran out to the squad. Heading for Shelby—on my way to the interstate—I called Billy and told him to get his ass ready for a fast pickup.
“Be outside waiting for me in ten. We’ve gotta go to the detention center and get our kid.”
“Wow, that was fast. I’m getting ready now.”
A quick stop to grab Billy, then back to the I-15 and straight south to Great Falls. It would take us over two hours to get there and the kid was breaking loose at noon.
“How old is he?” Billy’s battered leg was stiff and heavily bandaged. The best place for him was in the back of the truck with his leg propped up on the seat.
“Fifteen.”
Max rode in the front and Sarge curled up beside Billy. Both dogs were crazy happy when I helped Billy into the truck.
“The dogs missed you.”
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