Page 10 of Smoke

"A while. My boss isn't a monster." She closed the laptop. "I need to go out of here for a bit though."

The timing was predictable enough that I almost laughed. Beth needed clothes, the sheriff needed another razor, and a stop at the pharmacy for herself. She told me all of it in one breath before adding that she wasn't asking permission.

"I didn't think you were."

Her eyebrows lifted before I added, "I'll go with you."

"That wasn't what I said I needed either."

"No, but I'm not telling you not to go. You've got things to do. So I'm coming because some asshole was okay threatening you once before."

Beth studied me for a moment. "You're really trying."

"Don't sound so shocked."

"Well, I'm a little shocked."

I gave her a look, and she smiled.

We took her car because she wanted the trunk space for Warren's things. I drove, and she didn't argue about that, which told me the message had got under her skin more than she wanted me to know.

The first stop was Warren's house. I checked the property before Beth went inside and I stayed out of her way while she gathered what she needed. I didn't have to stand over her to keep her safe, no matter how tempted I was. I knew she needed space.

She came downstairs with a small duffel and an irritated expression. "He owns six identical blue shirts."

"He's consistent."

"No, he's impossible."

"He's consistent at that too."

Beth smiled despite herself and carried the bag toward the door. Watching her move through the house she grew up in made the cartel's logic clearer in a way I hated. They weren't targeting Beth because she happened to be nearby. They were targeting the one person the sheriff might bend for.

We stopped at the pharmacy next, then the grocery store because Beth decided my refrigerator contained food suitable for men who considered jerky a meal and almost nothing else. I let her complain. There were worse things than hearing her argue about vegetables in my kitchen again.

The trouble came outside the grocery store, where I saw the man before Beth did. He was leaning against a dark SUV two rows over, watching the entrance with too much interest and no reason to be there. Another man sat behind the wheel.

I changed direction without making it obvious, and Beth caught it anyway.

"What?"

"Stay close." Her face sharpened immediately as the man pushed away from the SUV as we approached her car. Mid-thirties, lean, dark hair, and no attempt to hide the fact that his attention was fixed on Beth.

"What have we here? It looks like the sheriff's daughter."

Beth stopped. I moved half a step ahead of her, enough to put myself between them without blocking her view.

"You know me?" she asked.

"Your father's making things difficult." Something inside me went very quiet, but Beth's voice stayed steady. "Then talk to him."

He ran his hand over the stubble on his jaw. "Well, we tried that."

His smile held no humor. When his eyes moved to me, the smile disappeared altogether. "Your club doesn't need to be involved."

"That stopped being your decision when you shot the sheriff."

The man took another step closer. "Tell White to stop digging. He keeps pushing, people around him get hurt. This gets bad for everyone involved."