Big Daddy Sheriff (Big Cedar Daddies #1)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Come inside,” Quinn said, ushering the Little in. “Tell me what’s going on, honey.”

“But Janie and Mindy are out there,” Belinda said. “They’re watching to see if the mean man is still around.”

Quinn hurried outside and looked to see the other women crouching behind the tree in his front yard. In a quiet yet forceful tone he said, “Girls, come on. Inside. Now.”

They obeyed.

Once they were inside and the door was shut, he asked, “What’s this all about?”

Alyssa was off the stool now, standing close to Quinn, afraid of what she might hear.

“My Daddy went to go get some parts,” Belinda explained. “He said I could stay here and play with my friends. So, we were on our way here to ask if Alyssa wanted to play. I want to show her how high I can swing. Last week, I went so high that I?—”

“Honey, what about the bad men?” Quinn interrupted.

“Oh. Right. Sorry. Anyway, before we could get here, we saw two men leave the café. One got in a car while the other walked to my Daddy’s shop. He tried to go in, but when it was locked, he started walking around the building. He looked in the windows and stuff. He looked like he was getting really impatient.”

Quinn nodded. “You did the right thing by coming here. But how do you know he’s bad?”

“Oh. Well, he just kind of looks bad. I’m not trying to judge.” She spread her hands. “And he started saying really bad words when he realized the garage was closed. Like words my Daddy would wash my mouth out if I ever said them!”

Quinn smiled as he listened. “They’re more than likely just passing through town and having a little car trouble. Probably eager to get back on the road so they want the garage to open. Still, I’ll go introduce myself and see if I can help.”

His calm demeanor seemed to rub off on the women. It didn’t last long, though. They all looked scared as he clipped his holstered gun to his belt and pinned on the badge he grabbed from the kitchen counter.

“Do you need that gun because they’re bad?” Mindy asked, her voice trembling a little.

He shook his head. “Honey, every law enforcement officer goes out on the job armed. It’s better to be safe than sorry. You girls just stay inside here. Lock the door and don’t come out until I say so.” He kept his voice measured. He didn’t want to alarm them, but they did need to listen and obey. “I’ll be back soon. Y’all color or something. Have fun.”

He winked at Alyssa.

Poor girl. He could see that she was terrified. And after all she’d been through, he couldn’t blame her one bit.

He hoped this was no big deal. More than likely, it was completely unrelated to anything going on in Little Rock.

With that in mind, he grabbed his Stetson from the peg on the wall, squared it atop his head, and set out to see about the strangers.

Sometimes, being a marshal wasn’t boring… even in a sleepy little town like Big Cedar.

The man didn’t notice Quinn approaching.

He was behind the shop, trying to peer in the back window, but the glass was too frosted over by years of dust and grime. He was growling angry curses and for a moment, Quinn thought the man was going to punch the glass, trying to shatter the window.

“Can I help you?” Quinn said.

The man spun around, seeming more annoyed that someone had crept up on him than he was afraid. But when he saw the morning sun glimmering off the star pinned to Quinn’s chest, he eased his posture a bit. Quinn still had a bad feeling about this guy, though. He wasn’t sure if what he’d told the girls—about these strangers not being dangerous—was accurate.

The gun riding on his hip gave him a bit of comfort.

He didn’t want to shoot anyone. He could hold his own with his fists, if it came to it. But hopefully neither shooting nor fighting would be necessary.

“Hey, sheriff,” the man said.

His accent revealed he wasn’t from too far out of town, even though he wasn’t a local.

“Marshal,” Quinn said.

“Huh?”

“I’m the marshal of Big Cedar. Not the county sheriff. What brings you by today?”

Quinn let his hand hover near the butt of his pistol. He felt a little like a lawman in the old westerns his dad and grandpa loved to watch. He was keeping about eight feet between him and the stranger. Just in case he needed to draw, he’d have plenty of room to work with.

“We, uh, need a little work done on our car.”

“Seems to be running fine.” Quinn jerked his head to indicate the front of the building. “Saw it idling out front.”

“Just an oil change. It’s long overdue.”

Quinn knew that was a lie. He let his hand go even lower, his pinky tapping the cold steel of the gun.

“Well, looks like Clyde isn’t here. If it’s just an oil change you need, you should be able to make it to the next town. There are a few bigger ones around here with more options. Broken Bow isn’t terribly far. They could get you fixed up down there.” He let a heavy moment of silence tick by before he said, “Where you boys headed?”

“Just passing through,” the man said.

“Visiting anyone in town?”

“No,” the stranger answered, shaking his head.

“Well, you’re welcome in Big Cedar. So long as you obey the laws. Sneaking around closed businesses and looking through the windows violates a statute or two.” He grinned. “I won’t cite you. This time. But please respect the sign on the door. If it says CLOSED, then move on.”

The guy bobbed his head. “Yeah. Sure. Sorry. Was just curious when they’d open.”

“Maybe not for a while. Probably best if you head out and get that oil changed somewhere else.”

Quinn stood as still as a statue. He wasn’t about to walk away first and leave his back exposed to this fella. The more time he spent in the guy’s presence, the more he didn’t trust him. Belinda and the others had been right.

This guy and his friend were up to no good.

“Reckon we’ll get going then,” the man said, offering a friendly wave. “Thanks for the help.”

Quinn watched him walk around toward the front of the building. Only when he was a few yards ahead did Quinn follow, wanting to ensure the strangers were really moving on.

The car pulled away, careful to use its signal and obey the speed limit.

Across the street, sweeping the porch of the café, Marsha called, “Did they find their niece?”

Wearing a puzzled expression, Quinn crossed the street and approached her. The sound of the corn broom’s whisks sliding across the porch’s hardwood floor reached his ears.

“They were looking for someone?”

“Sure. Were asking if I’d seen a young woman. They said she was having car trouble, and they were coming to help. I told them about that young lady you ate dinner with but didn’t know if she was still in town or not.” She stopped sweeping and looked at Quinn. “I hope I didn’t mess up.”

“No. It’s fine,” Quinn reassured her.

It wasn’t fine, but none of that was Marsha’s fault.

“Did they say where they’re from?”

“Over in Arkansas.”

A sinking feeling nearly overwhelmed Quinn, but he fought it off and focused on the task at hand. “Thanks, Marsha.”

With that, he took off back across the street, toward his office, where his cruiser was parked.

He was going to run those strangers down. And heaven help them if they ever tried to hurt Little Alyssa.