did as he was told. “No weapons.”
Wyatt shoved his gun into his holster and pulled a flashlight from his car. He shined the light in the first boy’s face. “Brandon Polansky, your parents are going to be proud of you.”
The thing about a small town was everyone knew everyone, and Wyatt knew the people better than most.
Wyatt stepped over to the second boy. “Billy Tom Wentz, this is going to be a shock to your parents and your grandfather.”
Billy Tom hung his head.
Before Wyatt could reach the third boy, he leaped over the hood of the car and bolted for the woods. Elias reached out with one arm and snagged him, wrestling him to the ground. The kid came up fighting with both arms. He was skinny and tall, but he didn’t have much strength. Elias grabbed him by the front of his hoodie and squeezed. The boy continued to beat at Elias with his fist.
“Keep it up and I’ll choke the life out of you. Got it?” His hand tightened even more and the boy gasped for breath and stopped struggling.
Wyatt ran up to them, breathing heavily. “You got him?”
“Yeah. You’re a little out of breath there, Wyatt.”
Wyatt slipped handcuffs on the boy, ignoring Elias, and led him back to the group without another word being said. In the darkness, it was hard to see expressions but Elias knew Wyatt was sending him one of his custom-made cold stares.
Elias trailed behind Wyatt and the kid, eager to see how this turned out. Stuart had handcuffs on the other two boys still standing against the car. Wyatt led the kid back to his spot.
Looking at the boy closely, Wyatt said, “I don’t believe I know you. Are you new in town?”
“None of your business,” the boy spat.
Wyatt tapped his badge with the flashlight. “You see that? That means I’m the sheriff of this county and when you rob places and run from the law, it becomes my business. What’s your name?”
“Get out of my face.”
Elias had had enough of the kid’s mouth. He needed an attitude adjustment. Before he could stop himself, he stepped in front of Wyatt and faced the kid. “You need to learn some manners and respect and if you don’t, I’m going to teach them to you. When the sheriff asks you a question you say, ‘yes, sir’ or ‘no, sir,’ and when he asks you a direct question you answer it. Got it?”
A palpable heat emanated from the boy. And anger.
“You already know that I’m stronger than you, so give it up, kid. It’s time to face the music.”
The boy’s stubborn expression reminded Elias of someone, but he couldn’t place it. Invisible daggers from Wyatt pierced his back, so he stepped aside.
“What’s your name?” Wyatt asked again.
The boy raised his head and stared at Elias. “My name is...Chase...McCray.”
“I know all the McCray boys and you’re not one of them,” Wyatt pointed out.
“I’m not from here nor do I want to be a part of the McCrays. My mom and I moved here two weeks ago.”
“Who’s your mother?”
“Maribel McCray.”
That got Elias’s attention. This was the kid she’d been looking for—a wild teenager out of control.
“Read them their rights and take them to the jail!” Wyatt shouted to Stuart.
“It was all my idea,” Chase said. “Don’t punish them. It’s all on me.”
Wyatt placed his hands on his hips. “A few minutes ago you were willing to run away, leaving your friends holding the bag. Now you’re trying to protect them?”
The kid glanced at Elias again and replied, “Yes...sir.”
“Okay, we’re going to the jail and we’ll discuss this with your parents.”
The boys had nothing to say.
“Call Bubba to tow this car,” Wyatt called after Stuart.
“I’m on it.”
Wyatt pulled off his hat and scratched his head, staring at Elias. “I’m trying to figure out what you’re doing here, but then I know you and sometimes I wonder if you’re ever going to grow up. I don’t manhandle kids, Elias, and that was totally out of line.”
The ruts on Wyatt’s forehead were deep enough to hold molasses. But Wyatt’s ire didn’t faze Elias. He leaned against the patrol car. “Well, my daddy always taught me when you start a job, you finish it. And if I hadn’t been here, that kid would be halfway to Temple by now.”
“I would have caught him, Elias.”
“Yeah, right.”
Wyatt opened the back of the SUV. “Help me put this beer in the back of my car. Their parents will want to see the evidence.”
“You’re good at giving orders.”
“Comes with the job.”
“Uh-huh.”
They stored the beer in Wyatt’s back seat. “Do you know Maribel McCray?”
“Yeah. I went to high school with her. She was always snotty when I tried to talk to her.”
Wyatt closed the back of the SUV. “How did you expect her to be? The Rebel/McCray feud was strong back then.”
“True. She left town without even graduating. I guess she’s finally come home.”
“Do you know where she’s living?”
“Now, Wyatt, the less I know about the McCrays, the better off I am.”
Wyatt opened the driver’s door of his car. “It’s been peaceful lately with the McCrays marrying into the Rebel family. But I have a feeling this kid is going to stir it all up again.”
Elias tapped Wyatt’s badge with his finger. “You’re the sheriff. You can handle it.” With a smile, Elias walked through the woods to Rowdy’s. He went inside and locked the back door. Bob came charging in, wiping his hands on his apron.
“Did Wyatt catch ’em?”
“Yes, he did. They’re on their way to jail.”
“Is it anybody I know?”
Elias told him about the boys.
Bob shook his hand. “What were they thinking?”
“The new kid in town is a bad influence.”
“Maribel’s
