His smile broadened. “Happy to help.”
He sounded genuine. In a world of surly, I-didn’t-do-nothing-I-didn’t-see-nothing constituents, Misty almost didn’t know what to do with that.
“Come on, Misty,” Gene said behind her, and she jumped. Somehow, looking at Ty Neal’s smiling face, she’d forgotten all about Gene and Eli in the Jeep behind her.
She cleared her throat. “Right. Follow me.”
Waiting just inside the doors was Betty, a haven of all-business in a sea of weird feelings. Betty didn’t stand for anything coming in the way of proper paperwork and procedure, and Misty blessed her for being there to get everything sorted out, with forty years of administrative police work under her belt.
The procedure was reassuringly boring. Misty sent Gene off to get medical attention, processed Eli, and left Ty with Betty to give his statement.
Though not before she assured him, “I’ll be back when I’ve taken care of all of this,” waving her hand awkwardly to take in Eli and all of his consequences.
Why she felt the need to reassure him, she didn’t know. Maybe because she didn’t like the idea that she might head into the depths of the station to do all the necessary things, and come back to find he had disappeared as mysteriously as he’d come.
But he smiled at her and said, “I’m counting on it.” She left him with a growing warm feeling in her chest, and a strange, solid confidence that he’d be right there waiting for her when she was done.
***
When she had a second, between bouts of paperwork, she picked up her cell phone, hesitated, and then called Pauline Gonzalez.
Pauline was married to Carlos Gonzalez, one of the several Marine veterans who’d moved here recently. Misty had watched the influx with some bemusement, wondering at this enclave of capable over-forty men who’d drifted into town, found something captivating here, and settled down with local mates.
They’d been the ones who had tangled with Eli’s pack, more than once. Misty would’ve been inclined to mark them as troublemakers, but it had been too obviously clear that Eli, Ryan, and their gang had been the ones causing the trouble. These men had just been stepping in the way, between the wolves and innocent women and children, and Misty had to admire them for that.
Even if she was occasionally irritated at what seemed to be a tendency to take the law into their own hands.
Pauline picked up with a friendly, “Misty! Hello, what can I do for you?”
Misty had helped Pauline when Ryan’s pack had attacked her and her family a couple of months ago, and had cooperated in helping her and her mate Carlos get custody of her cousin’s children. Pauline had responded with a level of gratitude that Misty wasn’t sure she deserved for doing her job.
Pauline kept inviting Misty to potlucks and barbecues and family gatherings, too. Generally, Misty was too busy with work to attend, but the invitations kept coming. She’d gone to a quick dinner with just Pauline’s family once, and had been a bit bewildered at the friendly acceptance that Pauline, Carlos, and their three kids had extended.
As sheriff of a town where most people had the mistrustful, insular instincts that shifter packs tended to instill, she wasn’t used to locals being happy to see her. It made her suspicious, even though she knew there wasn’t any reason to be.
“I just wanted to ask you about a witness I’ve got here at the station,” Misty said. “A Ty Neal? He says he’s a friend of yours and Carlos’.”
Pauline drew in an audible breath. “Ty’s at the station? All he said was that he’d been held up and he’d be late! What happened?”
Well, that answered the question of whether Ty was on the level about being Carlos’ friend, Misty supposed.
Not that she’d suspected he was lying. She’d been sure he was telling the truth, in fact, which was strange all by itself. Misty wasn’t a naturally trusting person; her father had raised her to be skeptical of everyone and everything, and she’d taken those lessons to heart.
“He—happened to be driving by while I was arresting a suspect. He stopped to lend a hand, and offered to come back and give a statement,” Misty said, unwilling to tell Pauline exactly who the suspect had been. She probably didn’t want to be reminded of the attack.
Once Eli was safely convicted, maybe then she’d make a point of telling Pauline that he wouldn’t be able to bother her again.
“Oh,” Pauline said, sounding relieved. “Oh, good. I was afraid there’d been some kind of trouble.”
“Not to speak of,” Misty sort-of lied. “Thanks to his being there.”
That was the truth. She was going to have to find a way to thank him. What sort of fruit basket did you send someone for putting himself between you and a charging wolf?
“Well, good. I’ll tell Carlos not to give him a hard time for being late. Thanks for letting us know, Misty.”
Pauline hung up with a cheerful goodbye, leaving Misty looking at the phone bemusedly. She hadn’t really meant the call as a courtesy—she’d been checking up on Ty’s story. But Pauline was too goodhearted to have thought of that.
And anyway, the corroboration hadn’t been necessary. It had only been because she felt such an instinctive trust in the man.