Chapter Twenty-Nine Simone’s gun lay on her desk between Bryce and her. She scowled at him from across the desk. Dobbs had gone off shift and left the station. A bead of sweat tickled Bryce’s back as it rolled down his neck under his shirt. He looked away. She was making him nervous because she was in big trouble with her boss. It’s not my fault she didn’t follow orders. “Simone.” Bryce heard the Sheriff’s deep voice speaking but it seemed far away. “What are you doing?” “He’s a terrorist,” said Simone, “sir,” she added, seemingly reluctantly. “Deputy,” said Constitution slowly and deliberately, “holster your weapon.” Bryce locked eyes with Simone. Her dark eyes flitted in the direction of the sheriff’s voice then back to him repeating the movement every few seconds. Problem was s
