The Silkie Stealer by Aaron Galvin

Author:Aaron Galvin [Galvin, Aaron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aames & Abernathy Publishing
Published: 2020-02-13T22:00:00+00:00

6

GARRETT

A cowboy with dark sunglasses chewed on a toothpick outside Garrett’s window.

Sheriff Hullinger glanced over his shoulder at Garrett. “That there’s the marshal. David Bryant’s his name. You just tell him the full truth, son, and we’ll get through this together.” He straightened his hat and smoothed his uniform, then eased out of the car.

Garrett was happy to stay where he was. He was thinking of Eddie Bennett again, the shark-man’s tank exploding, and all that came after. And while each memory played like a dark carousel in his mind, the cowboy marshal’s study of him never wavered. What does he know? Garrett wondered, swallowing the lump in his throat when Sheriff Hullinger opened his door to let him out.

Sheriff Hullinger pointed at the jail as he spoke. “Yes, sir, brand spanking new, marshal. Finished her less than a year ago. Got all the newest gadgets too! Folks around here put up a fit over the cost, but with Indianapolis growing so fast, why, we figure soon enough they’ll be knocking on our door. Meantime, we’ll be building up our town, readying to get swallowed up. Jail’s just the first step. What do you think?”

The cowboy marshal’s reply was the toothpick in his mouth switching sides. He rapped two fingers on the back passenger window. The doors opened on either side, a pair of marshals exiting. One was older, the other younger, a certain likeness about them suggesting they could even be father and son. Their faces sported bruises from a recent brawl. Garrett thought both looked more like grizzled outlaws he had seen on old westerns than modern day U.S. marshals.

He recoiled from both men.

Bryant waved his finger at both in a lazy introduction. “These two sorry dogs are my deputies.” He smirked at Garrett having retreated from them. “Don’t worry, boy. They won’t bite ‘less I tell them to.”

Garrett squirmed under the older deputy’s lingering gaze. There was a purplish bruise around the old man’s neck that looked like someone had tried and failed to strangle him.

Bryant’s boots scraped the pavement as he stepped away from the SUV. “Foster,” he called the younger marshal. “Why don’t you get our other friend outta the back and invite her into the sheriff’s new jail along with the rest of us. Might be you could get something more out of her while me and Mr. Weaver here have ourselves a little talk as well.”

The younger deputy limped around to the SUV’s opposite side. He returned leading a girl in handcuffs. Garrett thought she looked like the type that news stations bandied about after a gangland shooting. Her worn, hooded sweatshirt seemed coffee stained or something worse, and her chiseled features warned him she would never be one to back down from a fight.

Sheriff Hullinger seemed to surmise the same of her. “Who’s that?” he asked the cowboy marshal.

“Why, might be she’s our prime suspect who blew up the Indy zoo’s shark tank today.” Bryant looked at Garrett. “Unless this young man knows otherwise.

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