The spanner slipped in his grip, smacking hard against his thumb and the flywheel of Prichard’s Honda. Repressing a swear word so as not to further offend the local pastor, Royce refocused on the job at hand. He needed to get this tune-up finished and out the door so he could track down Raine and figure out what the hell was going on.
And then he’d find Jordan and remind him why Royce had invested in the auto shop in the first place. It for sure wasn’t because Royce had dreams of being a mechanic. It was, he remembered with a stab of guilt, a way for him to buy his brother’s affection, a way to appease the guilt of abandoning his siblings when he left for the Army.
As it happened, Royce’s sister did come to him, just as he was finishing Prichard’s car. Bishop, Topher, and Caleb came too, all of them trooping past him and into the auto shop’s office to wait while Royce wrote up the invoice. Mr. Prichard paid and left, probably wondering what they were all doing there. He backed his car out of the bay and turned onto the road in front of the shop, splashing through a deep puddle that always formed there when it rained. That damn pothole needed to be taken care of or somebody was going to drown in it. Royce scrubbed his hands as clean as he could get them and headed to the office where his siblings and friends waited.
His traitorous sister occupied his desk chair, Topher took up the ratty couch across from the desk, and Bishop and Caleb were lounging shoulder to shoulder against the wall opposite the door.
The auto shop office absolutely was not big enough for all five of them.
Raine was as tall as Royce, six feet barefoot, and wore her dark hair long and tied back in a ponytail. As soon as she could escape, she’d headed to Berkeley, where she’d earned a degree in journalism, then returned to Rexville with plans to change the world from the ground up. Currently, Raine was working with farm labor rights groups, interviewing workers about their work and living conditions. Royce was proud of his fiery sister, who’d fought for the underdog every day of her life. She would be a much better sheriff than Royce.
“What the hell, Royce?” Bishop demanded as Royce came through the door. “You didn’t tell us you were looking at the sheriff’s job. We had to hear it from Raine.”
Royce shot his sister a dirty look that she ignored.
That Bishop was a King couldn’t be argued. He looked like Royce and Raine, although he wasn’t quite as tall as either of them or Jordan—a fact that annoyed him. But he was the only one of them without an alliterative sibling. Royce and Raine were the oldest, Jordan and their missing brother, Jesse, were the youngest, and then there was Bishop, stuck in the middle.
Of all the King children, Bishop looked most like their father—a little rough, a little dangerous. Which was amusing, since anyone who ever met him knew Bishop was a complete pushover. Bishop was NOT the King most likely to be appointed Rexville sheriff, even if he had been a Ranger for eight years. He was more likely to be Rexville’s next kindergarten teacher.
Speaking of which.“I wasn’t aiming to be sheriff,” Royce growled, continuing to glare at his sister. “I didn’t offer and I don’t want the job. I can’t be sheriff and be a part of King Security, it’s a conflict of interest.” He narrowed his eyes at Raine. “Isn’t it?” He sure hoped so, but he knew Raine well enough to know she probably had checked before throwing his name in the hat.
His sister bit her lip, attempting to look as if she felt guilty. She didn’t and Royce knew it. Raine had been using this maneuver since she was three years old and Royce was wiser these days.
“Royce-y, I may have mentioned to a few people that you had experience, and we need a sheriff immediately, not in two weeks or a month from now.” She widened her blue eyes, a match to the eyes Royce saw in the mirror every time he bothered to look. “I wasn’t positive the Council would appoint you. Besides, it’s just for the remainder of Garrison’s term.”
That was crap. She’d totally expected Royce to win, or whatever they were calling what had happened.
“And just how long is that?”
He thought Garrison had been hired by the previous mayor, but that had been before Royce returned to Rexville.
“Just one little year more.”
Royce groaned and ran a hand through his hair as he slumped against the wall opposite Bishop and Caleb, disturbing a few ancient, framed certificates belonging to the original shop owner in the process.
“I’m not happy about this, Raine.”
Royce employed his firmest voice, even though he knew it would have no effect on his hardheaded sister. He supposed it was due to growing up as the only King female in a house with four brothers and a largely absent dad. Three brothers now, Royce amended.
“Maybe it won’t be a big deal,” Caleb offered innocently. For an ex-Delta Force operator, the man was remarkably naïve. “Except for Topher’s Denver job coming up, it’s not as if the business is ready to go quite yet. And how likely is it that we’ll have clients here in town?”
“You mean like Evi?” Royce asked pointedly as he stared at Caleb, who decided to examine his fingernails.
Exactly.
Evi Devine was Caleb’s significant other. A few months ago, Royce, Topher, and Bishop had helped Caleb get Evi out of a tight spot when she came back to town and brought trouble with her. Trouble that they all expected to return.
“That was chance,” Caleb protested weakly.
“Royce, I think you’re making something out of nothing,” Topher spoke up, darting a glance at Raine. Royce shot him a dark look.
For brothers, Topher and Caleb Carlson didn’t look much alike except for their dark, almost black, eyes. Caleb was huge, fast, and damn smart, and just as dangerous as you’d expect someone in Delta Force to be. And then there were those eyes, which Royce figured had to scare anybody up to no good. Topher wasn’t as rugged as Caleb, and his SEAL nickname had been Pretty Boy, which in Royce’s opinion was perfect. For some reason, Caleb’s nickname had been Gerald.
“You are supposed to be on my side.”
The only time Royce and Topher had been on opposites sides was when they were eighteen and Royce had picked the Army while Topher picked the Navy, eventually becoming a damn SEAL. So, while he was smaller than his “little” brother, Topher was smart and scary, too, just a bit sneakier about it.
Royce made one last attempt. “But I don’t want to be sheriff.”
Did that sound whiny? Royce clenched his jaw, sliding his gaze back over to the most troublesome person in the King family. It was a damn good thing he loved Raine.
“Pshaw, you’ve always wanted to be sheriff, I just helped you along.” Raine held up a set of keys. “Marnie gave me the keys to the building and the office to give to you, and she says she’ll stay on for a while as dispatch slash secretary if you want. She and Dominic left in their RV through the weekend, so you’re on your own for a few days. Shall we all go over and see what kind of trouble you’re in?”