“Is that really the reason you showed up?”
Busted. “No. I don’t trust Mason and wanted to make sure he didn’t pull a stupid stunt.”
“Who knows what he might have done if you hadn’t been here.” She studied the floor. “Thanks.”
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Could you say that a little louder?”
“Nope.” She smirked, then pivoted and walked out.
“She’s something else,” he said to Fuzz. “Come, let’s go see your favorite goat.”
Fuzz knew the word goat, and knowing Billy was here and where, he headed for the cells.
“You here to get Earl?” Jill asked at seeing them. She was the detention officer, the only permanent employee at the jail.
“I am. By the way, Mason won’t be on duty today. The sheriff is sending Johnny to cover for him. I’ll hang around until he gets here.”
“Not like Mason does anything when he’s here.”
Not like that was a surprise. Goat bleats and happy dog yips filled the air. He glanced at Jill and rolled his eyes. “Star-crossed lovers.”
She laughed. “Those two are a riot.”
They were a real comedy team all right. The door was never closed when Earl was in the cell. Billy didn’t like being locked up, so he was allowed to hang out wherever he wanted when Earl was here. There wasn’t any need to lock Earl in anyway. He never left the cell until Tristan or one of his officers or one of Skye’s deputies came to drive him back to Beam Me Up to get his riding mower.
It was Earl who insisted on going to jail. He was never arrested or charged with anything, but from the beginning, he’d refused to let anyone take him home. He’d once told Tristan his regrets when they came were too big a burden to carry home with him.
Tristan entered the cell, taking a seat next to Earl on the bunk. They both watched Fuzz try to get Billy to play tug of war with Fuzz’s KONG toy. Thankfully the rubber was too hard to eat, because Billy was giving it his best effort. The dog and goat really were entertaining.
“You about ready to go home?”
Earl grunted.
That meant yes, he was. Last night’s drunk was because it was the anniversary of his wife’s death, which was common knowledge. The other two nights a year he tied one on were a mystery, and people had speculated all kinds of reasons. Earl refused to talk about it, but he had been in the military during Desert Storm, and Kade thought Earl’s drunk nights had something to do with that. It was as good a guess as any.
Johnny walked in, coming to a stop at the open cell door. “I see Billy got in trouble again last night.”
Earl frowned. “Billy didn’t do nuthin’.”
“Just pulling your chain, buddy.”
Earl grunted. He didn’t like anyone dissing his goat. Tristan stood and put his hand on Earl’s shoulder. “Let’s get you and Billy out of here.”
Earl, his goat, and Fuzz followed him out. Because Earl refused to ride in the front seat of a police car, Tristan opened the back door. The three of them piled in. He shook his head, chuckling as Billy and Fuzz bounced around Earl.
Five minutes later, he pulled up next to Earl’s lawnmower at Beam Me Up. A few minutes after that, Earl rode away with Billy standing like a hood ornament on the engine cover. “Gotta love this town,” he muttered.
Fuzz whined, already missing his friend.
“Suck it up, buttercup. Billy didn’t even glance back at you.”
Kind of like how Skye ignored him. Since he wasn’t so keen to suck that up, he turned toward the sheriff’s department, making a stop on the way.
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to eat that,” Skye said when he set a cream-filled pastry on her desk, along with a cup of coffee.
“No funny business. Promise.” He picked up the pastry and took a bite. “See.” He perched on the edge of her desk.
She sat back in her chair and narrowed her eyes. “Uh-huh. What’s the catch?”