decided she wasn’t so sure she liked this deputy and focused her attention on the friendlier Niles Vernon and Sheriff Johnston. “We’re here investigating a possible connection with the Lions of Texas. Have you heard of them?”
The sheriff took a swig of his drink before saying, “Nope. Who are they?”
“We believe they’re responsible for a lot of things, the main one being the death of a fellow Ranger. We think our friend found out something about the Lions and they killed him.”
The sheriff winced. “Sorry to hear that.”
Gisella swallowed hard. She always got emotional when she thought about Captain Gregory Pike. She pushed her sadness away and said, “Anyway, we also believe they’re running drugs big time. These drugs are finding their way throughout the state of Texas and Boot Hill is a possible entry point from Mexico for them.”
Chris snorted. “Boot Hill’s not perfect and not crime-free, but we keep the drugs out. If they make it over the border, they get stopped here.” He shook his head. “The drugs spreading through Texas aren’t coming through Boot Hill.”
Instead of commenting, Gisella simply nodded. “What about you, Sheriff? Do you have any reason to believe these people are working out of Boot Hill?”
Before the sheriff could respond, Niles interrupted with an irritated look at Chris. “Regardless of what my buddy here thinks, it’s possible some drugs do get into Boot Hill. But Chris’s right about one thing, it would be mighty hard. We’ve got the Border Patrol station and we police the fence closely with agents and K-9s.”
The sheriff didn’t lose his scowl. He did raise a thoughtful brow. “In spite of Chris’s protests, we all know that in spite of our best efforts, the drugs slip through.”
“I will say that if it’s coming across—and I’m not saying it’s not—it’s coming across on somebody else’s watch,” Niles grunted.
“Not on mine.” Chris rolled his eyes, shrugged then gave a sneer. “And we don’t need some fancy-pants Ranger or DEA agent coming in and stirring up trouble.”
“Cool it, Locke,” Sheriff Johnston ordered softly.
Chris rolled his eyes, sat back and gave his recently delivered food his full attention.
Niles shot them an apologetic look.
Gisella wondered what the deputy’s problem was then decided to ignore it. “So, Sheriff, what do you say we team up and work together? I think if we’re sharing information and backing each other up, we’ll be able to find what we’re looking for a lot faster.”
“Work together, huh?”
“Well, we’re either working together or we’re not. To me the choice is a simple one.”
Sheriff Johnston stroked his chin while Chris Locke looked on. “This town isn’t so friendly to outsiders.”
Gisella felt one side of her mouth lift in a smile. “We noticed. Hopefully, if they see us cooperating with each other, they’ll warm up to us.”
Niles grunted and Chris ignored them.
Brock said, “We need a couple of hotel rooms. Got any suggestions?”
The sheriff smiled. “If you want to stay in Boot Hill, your only option is the Boot Hill Inn. You can walk to it from here if you don’t mind a little hike. They have twenty-two rooms total.”
“Any vacancies?”
“Guess you’ll have to go find out. But yeah, probably. We don’t get a lot of visitors except families needing a place to stay during the holidays. The Christmas rush is over so you’ll probably have your pick of the rooms.” He leaned forward and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “So how long do you figure you’re going to be staying here?”
Gisella firmed her jaw and looked the sheriff in the eye. “As long as it takes.”
THREE
In the hotel office, Brock studied the man behind the counter and wondered vaguely what his story was. He’d been wiping down the counter with a rag when they’d walked in. His nametag read, STEVE.
A white scar cut a path from his forehead, down his right cheek to his chin. Prison tats decorated his fingers and his eyes had a hard glint to them. Gisella’s tense shoulders said she had her guard up, too.
Brock didn’t like the fact that Steve’s eyes had lingered a little long on Gisella’s pretty face, but Brock had to give the man credit. He hadn’t looked at her in any way that could be considered disrespectful. He simply handed over her credit card and room key and said, “Thank you. Glad you’re here.”
Gisella gave him a friendly nod.
Steve said, “There’s two of us who run the front desk. We alternate shifts and cover for each other so you never know who’ll be up front. We only have one maid working right now. We’re not a big-city hotel, so if you need something I’ll do my best to get it to you, but don’t expect to get it right away.” He spoke in a flat monotone as though he didn’t want them there, but couldn’t afford to turn them away.
Brock nodded. “We’ll keep that in mind.”
Gisella said to Brock, “I’m going to step outside and make a phone call while you’re finishing up.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
While he repeated the process Gisella had just completed, Brock considered the twinge of jealousy he’d felt at the hotel clerk’s obvious admiration of Gisella and told himself to get real.
He’d only known the woman a few hours. How could he be jealous? That he was made him a little nervous. Brock signed the credit card slip and thanked the man. Steve nodded and returned to his cleaning without another word.
Brock stepped outside to find Gisella already sitting in the passenger seat with her door shut. He decided he liked seeing her there. Beside him, she tugged at the heart with occasional glimpses of her vulnerability. He admired her tough-as-nails attitude about her job.
Climbing into the driver’s seat, he looked at her. “Too cold to stand outside for very long, huh?”
She laughed and agreed.
“You get your call made?”
Gisella frowned. “He didn’t answer.”
“Who?”
“My dad.”
“And that worries you?”
She shrugged. “No. He and my mom are probably out with their friends from church. He’s left a couple messages on my phone so I thought I’d try him back. No big deal.” She gave him a wry smile. “Trust me, he’ll call again.”
Brock drove about halfway down the building and parked in the almost empty lot, not in front of a room. “Our rooms are four doors up.”
Respect
