Page 23 of Grimm County Wishes (Grimm County Lawmen #4)

“ W ell, lookee here, it’s the Bachelor Deputy. I sure hope you remember us when you start hosting shows on the Food Network.” An older lady with hair piled on top of her head in a bun sat behind the front desk.

“Impossible, Mrs. Williams. You know I’d never forget a beautiful woman,” Al teased. Apparently, Hunter’s sister Fawn had no interest in administrative work, but his mom was suffering from boredom with her empty nest.

She fanned her hand in front of her face. “Whew, with lines like that, I bet those ladies are tripping over themselves to get to you.”

Al winked. “You know I’m sworn to secrecy.”

She groaned, “Yeah, I know. Diane has been like a lockbox. Won’t tell me anything. I might bake some of Ray’s weed into a batch of brownies, then she’ll tell me everything.”

Al laughed and covered his ears. “Don’t say that here! You know Christian likes to play things close to the law. ”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s got a prescription. Anyway, I’ve got scones in the breakroom if you want some. The ones with blueberries are mine.” She leaned forward and looked around the room, whispering, “The ones with … well I’m not sure what they’re with, but the bright orange ones are Marina’s.”

“Oooh, those sound like her sweet potato and turmeric scones. Not her best, but better than the spinach and matcha. Since I hate having women fight over me,” he raked a hand through his hair, “I’ll have one of each.”

“Get out of here, you rascal,” she said, laughing as he walked away.

Al waved to Nick as he made his way to the breakroom. After spending too many days hungry, he never turned down food. Even Marina’s.

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 it wasn’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.”

“Exactly. You were turning tricks long before I came out. You got anyone in here?”

“No.”

“Nick, you see anything in your sweep around the park?”

“Few needles, nothing else.”

Al sighed, placing his hands on his tactical belt. “I don’t have anything to bring you in on, so for now I’m going to let you off with a warning. Keep your dealings inside your trailer, and you should be okay. ”

“I’ve been real hungry lately. Maybe you can give me some money before you leave.”

“Sorry. I’m all out.”

“That’s not what I heard. I heard you’re on all kinds of TV shows now.”

“I’m not funding your habit. Call me if you ever go to rehab.”

“Oh, you think you’re so much better than me? Why the hell do you think you’re on those TV shows? It’s not your brains, that’s for sure. It’s your body. That’s all anybody will ever want you for.”

“Let’s go.” Nick grabbed his arm and pulled him down the steps.

“Not so much different from dear old mom, are ya, son?” she shouted as he got back into the patrol car.

Fuck. Maybe she was right.