Page 25 of The Sweet Spot
I can barely bring myself to look at the photos included in the reports. Vivid bruises on her face and wrists. Red, angry cuts. A swollen lip. A black eye.What in the fucking hell!
It’s sickening to think she endured this on her own. Physically, she’s no match for Braggart. He’s easily twice her size. Plus, he’s a bully. Emotionally and mentally, she’s no match for him.
This time, it will be different. She’s not alone. She has friends who will protect her.
Starting withme.
* * *
After leaving the station, I head out to the Braggart ranch outside of town. I’m going to have a chat with Dave. Maybe I’ll get lucky and find another reason to arrest him.
I’m guessing he’s staying at his parents’ ranch, even though they’re out of town right now. The Braggarts own a thousand-acre cattle ranch east of Bryce. They’re outside the township limits, but they’re in our county, so they fall under my jurisdiction.
When I pull through the main gate of the Triple B Ranch, I follow the long, winding drive up to the main single-story house. To the right of the house are several massive barns and a number of chicken coops. To the left of the house is forest. It’s an impressive spread.
The Braggarts are undoubtedly the wealthiest people in these parts. That meant their son, Dave, was by association the wealthiest kid in our school district. He was also the biggest jerk.
I park in front of the sprawling ranch-style home and walk up to the door. I guess I should saydoors, as there are two of them, at least eight feet tall, hand-carved wooden monstrosities. I guess if you’ve got the money, go ahead and flaunt it.
I ring the bell, and a moment later the door opens. I doff my sheriff’s hat at the middle-aged Hispanic woman wearing a gray uniform dress and a white apron. I’m guessing she’s the housekeeper. “Ma’am. Is Dave here?”
The woman nods. “Si.”
“Would you tell him Sheriff Nelson is here to see him?”
She frowns, looking like she’d rather not do any such thing.
“Por favor, senora?” I give her a friendly smile. “I’m not looking for trouble. I just need to speak to your boss’s son.”
She reluctantly nods and steps back so I can enter. “Just a minute, please,” she says as she walks away, leaving me alone in a spacious foyer with high ceilings and what I guess is expensive artwork hanging on the walls. Overhead hangs a fancy chandelier dripping with crystals that shed refracted light on the walls and polished parquet floor.
From where I’m standing, I can see into what looks like a home office to the left, a dining room to the right, and straight ahead I can see part of a gourmet kitchen and a living room.
It’s not long before I see Dave walking toward me down the center hallway. He’s wearing a pair of cut-off denim jean shorts and nothing else. No shoes, no shirt. He’s holding a sandwich in one hand and a beer bottle in the other.
“My parents are out of the country,” he tells me as he talks around a mouthful of food. “You’ll have to come back in a month.”
“I’m not here to see your folks, Dave. I’m here to see you.”
“What for? I don’t think my business is any of yours.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Why are you here? From what I’ve heard, you left Bryce years ago and haven’t been back. Why now? Especially if your folks are out of the country. You obviously didn’t come back for a family reunion.”
His smile fades. “That’s whereyou’rewrong, Sheriff. That’s exactly why I came back—for a family reunion. I came to reunite with mywife.”
Hearing him call Jennie his wife makes my gut knot. “She’s not your wife. She hasn’t been for a long time. And the last time you were here, she had to get a restraining order against you.”
Dave scoffs. “That expired years ago. We’re gettin’ a fresh start, Jennie-bean and me.”
I’m not in the mood to play games with this clown. “Why are you really here?”
“I told you. I came back to reunite with my wife.”
“She has no interest in seeing you, so I suggest you take yourself back to wherever it was you came from. Vegas, if the rumors are correct.”
The man’s eyes narrow on me. “You shouldn’t believe rumors.”
It looks like I hit a sore spot. “Everything that happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?” I ask.
