Seven
Deputy Mark Scott unlocked his squad car and opened the door.
His shift had just begun. Night shift.
Again.
His turn.
Again.
Not excited about doing the nightly cruise all around the town and county.
Especially after last night. Uniforms were expensive, but he was glad that he owned more than one. The soda had made his shirt and pants stick to him all evening. It was always good to get home and shower, but especially after last night. He guessed the kid who’d backed into him and doused him with his own soda had learned a lesson.
Hopefully.
Phil Daynton was on the loose—somewhere—and it might be up to Mark to run into him.
He’d love handcuffing that man to a pole. He’d leave him there all night for the rats to chew on his ankles. That man had caused too much injury and pain
