“Mind if we search the site?”
“Help yourself. I’ve been here all morning, and there’s no woman here. You’re wasting your time.”
“It’s mine to waste,” the sheriff snapped.
The officers spread out, searching the building and storage sheds, even the porta-potties, finding nothing.
“Search the vehicles.”
“No, not unless you have about forty warrants in your possession.”
The sheriff turned to Jericho. “Why not the vehicles?”
“I gave the authorization for you to search the building, but the vehicles are personal property.” Jericho knew they wouldn’t find the woman, but also knew he managed a rough crew who could easily have a little pot or an unlicensed weapon. The first, he didn’t mind if it was done on off time. The weapons were like condoms to some of the men—you never left home without them.
The sheriff’s lips pursed in a smart-ass grin. “What did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t, but my name is Jericho Hawk.”
“And if I pulled your record, what would I find?”
Jericho had been down this road many times before. He knew exactly where this conversation was headed.
Jericho didn’t break eye contact when he admitted, “That I served two years in prison.”
“What charge?”
“Murder.”
“Is that so?”
“I served my time. I’m not even on parole, so you’re barking up the wrong tree. The woman is not here.”
The sheriff turned back to the other officers. “Phelps, head over to the courthouse and pick me up some warrants.” As he was talking, the scanner could be heard in the background. The sheriff moved to answer the dispatcher, and within seconds, he was motioning the other officers back to their cars.
“The woman was seen at the Camelot Inn.”
“Isn’t that just a couple of miles away from the Stop and Go?” Jericho questioned snidely.
The asshole Sheriff threw him a dirty look before heading back to his cruiser. “Count yourself lucky that the call came in. I was looking forward to searching your truck personally. Hawk, now that your job is finished, don’t stick around town.”
Jericho’s lips twisted. “Don’t worry; I’m gone already.”
The sheriff nodded with self-importance before getting in his cruiser. Then the asshole took off, lights flashing and dust flying in all directions.
“Whew, am I glad that’s over,” Billy tried to joke, but Jericho cut him off.
“I don’t want to know what happened last night. I don’t care. My best advice is that you get in your truck and haul ass out of this town.”
Billy nodded and high-tailed it back to his truck, and Jericho watched as he, as well as the other crewmembers, spun out of the parking area.
They were lucky. If that call hadn’t come through, they all probably would have been stuck here for several hours, and that was if nothing illegal had been found in the vehicles.
He closed up the site and headed to his own truck. Driving off, he didn’t take a last look as the lot disappeared from view. No feeling of satisfaction of a job well done or a thought about the crew crossed his mind while heading home. The job was done, so any connection he had to it was over.
As his truck passed the state line, he was just glad to be driving to his own home where he would stay for the next two months. With the bonus money earned on this job, he was due for a rest before the next contract began. He needed it. The last job had been exhausting. The only excitement he was looking for was a clean bed and a warm body next to him.
Jericho was definitely glad to be out of that town. If Billy was smart, he had taken his advice and gotten out also, because one thing Jericho had learned in prison was to know when someone was lying, and that kid had been lying … badly. There was no way Jericho would have put his own ass on the line for him, though. He had learned the hard way no bitch was worth doing time.