Page 44 of Wild Card
Camille sent me a grateful look as Bodie took the bait, chattering about their upcoming game and how brutal practice had been as they got ready for it. Bodie had filled out a lot in thepast year, and if he kept playing football, he’d soon be in the best shape of his life.
I remembered those days. I still ran regularly and hit the gym twice a week, but it didn’t come as easily as it once did.
We passed around serving dishes until everyone’s plate was full. I fell on the smothered pork chops like a starving man. With the hours I’d been keeping, I’d been surviving on sandwiches and coffee, not to mention too many damn MoonShakes at Jerkers.
Even if smothered pork chops weren’t my favorite—and they so were; Mom spoiled me—I’d devour them after the week I’d had.
Bodie eventually ran out of steam about football, and Dad cleared his throat. “So, Dalton, anything new to share with us?”
I paused, fork midway to my mouth. There was no way my family could know anything about Axel or the dognapping. Unless they’d bumped into Hunter and he said something? But no. He wouldn’t have.
“What would I have to share?” I asked.
“Well, I don’t know.” Dad chuckled. “We don’t see you much. I was just wondering.”
“Oh.” I shrugged. “Nothing much to report.”
Dad wasn’t the small-talk type. If he was asking, he was after something specific. Sure enough, after taking another bite, he said, “You give any more thought to running for sheriff?”
Everyone looked at me expectantly.
“Not really.” I stuffed my mouth full of mashed potatoes.
The rumors about the upcoming sheriff’s election and my name as a potential candidate had made it all the way to Granville. My family had been excited about the prospect because they wanted to see me settle down.
And like Bodie had pointed out, I never brought home a boyfriend. My job was the only thing anchoring me here. Well, that, and my family.
When I graduated high school, I’d gone off to get a criminal justice degree, and then it had seemed like a shame to waste it on a small sheriff’s department. I’d had bigger dreams when I was twenty. Not to mention, I’d been a gay man, and I’d wanted to live somewhere with more of a queer community than Nebraska.
Things changed, though. When my partner died, I’d needed the comfort of home. Needed the slower pace of a small department. My line of work was never entirely safe, but it was a hell of a lot safer here than the Phoenix metro area.
Around here, we got to know the people we worked with. We had more knowledge, which meant we could do our job more safely and fairly.
In a place like Phoenix, I’d have arrested and jailed Axel, no questions asked. Here, I could assess the situation and understand the context. I could do what wasjust, even if it took a little creativity and extra legwork.
“Why don’t you want to be sheriff?” Bodie asked. “I think it would be cool. You’d be the boss of, like, everyone.”
I chuckled. “Well, actually, I like to think of it as protecting everyone. Keeping folks safe. I’m not really in it for the power.”
Dad pounced. “So youareconsidering it.”
“No.” I shook my head. “No, I don’t think it’s a good idea. They can bring in someone with more experience.”
“But you worked in Phoenix all that time,” Mom said.
“And it was different there,” I said shortly. “It hardly qualifies me to run this department.”
“Okay, but…” She trailed off, looking concerned. “You know best, Dalton. We just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” I said, aware that I sounded veryunhappy as I said it. “Just please, stop pushing, okay? You don’t know what I want.”
I pushed back from the table and grabbed my plate, carrying it into the kitchen. Camille followed.
“Whatever your deal is, don’t take it out on Mom and Dad.”
I rinsed my plate in the sink and reached out for Camille’s. “Sorry. I just hate the way you all look at me when you ask.”
“How do we look?”
