Page 29 of Deacon (Men of Clifton, Montana #52)
Deke climbed into the cab, fired up the engine, and rolled out. The evening air settled around them as the headlights carved a path through the darkening sky. In his rearview mirror, Tommy glared, cheeks hollow, eyes burning with silent fury.
Deke exhaled and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He was certain he’d break him, sooner or later Tommy would talk, and then the whole Winchester clan would crumble. For now, at least, he had more than just hope .
Deke eased the vehicle onto the gravel road leading back to the sheriff’s office.
Dust rose in lazy spirals behind him, catching the late afternoon sun in amber swirls.
He pressed his palm against the warm steering wheel and let out a long breath.
This case had swallowed weeks of his life, and he ached for the moment it would finally be closed.
More than anything, he longed to slip out of his uniform, hang up his badge, and slide back into the easy rhythms of home, especially to spend time with Ellie.
He pictured her wide eyes and dark curls, her tentative ‘Dad-dy?’ that made his heart melt.
He would give anything for her to understand, truly understand, that he was hers.
In the quiet hum of the cab, his thoughts drifted to Ava. Their chemistry had ignited that first night like dry tinder to flame, and it had flared again.
On weekends the ranch demanded every ounce of his drive.
Six horses lived in the stable; and each stall had to be cleaned daily.
Skipping just one day wasn’t good for them.
Mornings began before sunrise, the barn’s hay-scented air cool against his skin, the boards still wet with dew.
He mucked stalls with steady strokes of the pitchfork, flinging soiled straw into towering wheelbarrows.
Jonah, his manager, along with three other men, took care of the barns and maintenance around the property Monday through Friday, along with checking the fence.
They earned every minute of their weekends off.
Jonah had a way with the horses, coaxing them inside at the first sight of rain when Deke himself would break into a sweat trying.
Years ago, hiring Jonah had been the wisest decision Deke ever made.
He’d even built him a home on the property .
He shook himself free of memories as he pulled into the sheriff’s parking lot.
The late afternoon light filtered through high windows, painting checkered patterns across the parking lot.
Deke climbed out of the truck; swung open the rear door and helped a slouched young man into the sunlight, guiding him by the elbow with gentle firmness.
Inside the building, the scent of copier ink lingered in the air.
Deke approached the reception desk, its surface dotted with sticky notes and pens tethered by coils of plastic, and told the woman behind the desk that he needed an interrogation room and a deputy.
The receptionist nodded, tapped a few keys, and waved him down a corridor.
He pushed open the gray steel door of the interrogation room.
The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows on the stainless-steel table and three metal chairs.
Deke guided Tommy onto one of them, the vinyl seat cold and unforgiving against the kid’s back.
Then Deke slid into a chair opposite him, folding his arms as he leaned back.
Across from him, Tommy’s shoulders trembled; big, scared eyes flickered beneath damp hair.
“Anything you want to tell me?” Deke’s voice was low, calm, but carried the weight of every unsolved case he’d ever worked. He leaned back and narrowed his eyes, waiting.
Tommy’s head shook, a brittle movement. “I’m not talking.”
The door clicked open and Deputy Jeff Miller entered, “Hey, Deke, is there anything I can help you with?”
Deke rose, muscles loose but ready. “I need a cell,” he said, glancing at the chin-high window of the observation room. “If you’ve got one next to the other Winchester boys, book him there.”
Miller nodded. “We have a cell right next to the older Winchester. There was a release this morning. You can put him in that one.”
“Good. Thanks, Jeff.” Deke turned back to Tommy. “Get up, and I’ll walk you down.”
A single tear traced Tommy’s cheek. “I want to go home.”
Deke’s jaw tightened. “Boy, you’re not going anywhere except to a cell. Now get up.” He offered a firm hand. Tommy rose unsteadily, and allowed Deke to guide him out of the room.
They filed down the corridor together, past padded interview rooms and the inmate intake station, the echo of their footsteps swallowed by thick rubber mats.
At the end, a door with narrow barred windows stood sentinel.
Deke nodded to Miller, who slid a key into the lock.
The door swung open with a low groan. Deke stepped aside and ushered Tommy into the cell, removed the handcuffs, then the cold clang of steel sealing him inside as the deputy snapped the latch into place.
Deke looked at each of the Winchesters and smirked.
“One more, and we’ll have that family reunion. Tommy, if you want to talk, tell the deputy and they’ll get a hold of me.” He looked at Teddy. “You’re going to be shit out of luck.” Then he walked out.