“Samuel Carver,” Sharp said, leaning forward and extending a hand. “I don’t think we’ve had a chance for a one on one conversation.”
Sam spared a glance at Crichton standing over Sharp’s shoulder and then turned to Sharp, trying his best to ignore Crichton. He shook Sharp’s hand. The man was older but still had a surprisingly strong grip.
“I’ve heard good things.”
“Thank you, sir,” Sam said. In most situations, he wouldn’t find himself nervous around the Chief. After all, he was here to fit in with the Forest, and what better way to fit in than to get along with the Chief? But Crichton was still there, watching with his predatory eyes, almost as if he was hanging on every word between the two men.
“Sergeant McCready,” Sharp began, but Crichton made a small coughing noise behind h
