Quick Sands: A Theo Ramage Thriller (Book 1) by Edward J. McFadden III

Author:Edward J. McFadden III [McFadden III, Edward J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Trident Media
Published: 2021-05-05T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

Town Hall was a crusty, ill maintained, one story brick structure that was so basic Ramage wondered if it had been built without architectural plans. It was a brick box, three windows on the east and west sides, and two on the front with a door in the center. The sheriffs annex had its own entrance next to the main entrance, and Kingston pulled his squad car diagonally in front of the door, taking up the handicap spot and the spot marked Sheriff.

Kingston hauled himself out of the cruiser and waddled around to Ramage’s side of the car. The cop placed a hand on his sidearm and opened the door for Ramage. “OK, now, let’s go. Try anything and I’ll shoot you.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that and know that nobody within a hundred miles will give a crap, except maybe Anna, but she can’t do shit.” He hiked up his sagging pants and motioned for Ramage to get out of the car.

The cuffs hurt his wrists, but his legs weren’t shackled. He glanced over his shoulder. There were no other cars in the lot. No people. He could get out of the car and be on the sheriff before he knew what hit him, take his keys and be gone. But what then? Ramage gazed up the street, but didn’t see Anna’s pickup.

The sheriff pulled a key and opened the office. A puff of sour air escaped as the door swung open, like and ancient tomb had just been discovered and opened for the first time in millennia.

Ramage followed Kingston inside, dust tickling his nose. The cop flicked on the lights. The place looked like nobody had been there in months. A stack of mail sat on a single steel desk, and three chairs and some file cabinets lined the walls. In the northwest corner of the room a ten-by-ten cage was bolted to the floor. The sheriff unlocked the cell door and swung it open for Ramage, who stopped short of entering and held out his cuffed wrists.

“Get in the birdcage, now. I’ll take them off once you’re inside.”

Ramage stared at the man, but said nothing. He didn’t move.

“Sooner we get this over with the sooner you can get out.”

Ramage liked the “get out” part, and he wanted to see where this went, so he stepped into the cage and Kingston slammed the door behind him. Ramage held up his wrists and the sheriff took off the cuffs.

Without another word Kingston hoisted his pants, tugged on his hat, and left.

With the sheriff gone the room was silent, save for the hum of a small refrigerator compressor and the tick of a clock. There was a wood bench in the cage, so Ramage sat and rested his head in his hands. His ribs still hurt, but they got better every day, and the bruises on his face had faded, but still felt itchy.

What the hell had he gotten himself into? Had he made a mistake in trusting in the

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