She was nodding. “I know but in Frederick the bride and groom do a ceremony with handfasting and witnesses. That’s what constitutes marriage to those folks. I haven’t seen a single licensed marriage in the town in the five years I’ve been on the force.”
I looked over at her. “How do you know so much about Frederick, Sally?”
She sighed and I could see how she gripped the steering wheel tighter. “We had some trouble with some rowdy individuals sometime back. They don’t have a bar in Frederick so the ones who want to get their drink on, spend their time at the saloon in Prosper Woods. We’ve been called out to break up fights more than once. Our former sheriff finally told Floyd Reardon that he was going to start fining him every time he served one of them. That pretty much put an end to it.”
“Floyd Reardon is the bar owner, right? I think you mentioned him before,” I said. “What’s the deal with him?”
“Oh sorry. I tend to forget everyone doesn’t know that piece of shit.” She turned to look at me with a frown on her face before turning her attention back to the road as she made a left hand turn off the highway. We began driving down a narrow two-lane road that took us deeper into the woods.
“Like I said, Floyd Reardon owns the saloon and you’ve never met a more disagreeable asshole in your life. Let me put it this way, he’s not a nice guy. He’s a bully and a real piece of shit. He hits on women and won’t take a hint when they reject his advances. He’s been warned a time or two about that as well. Most women don’t complain because—I don’t know—he has some sort of animal sex appeal to some. With others, you can practically smell the fear on them when they do make a complaint.”
I frowned. I’d met guys like this Reardon character lots of times. They think they are the second coming and that gives them the courage to act however they want. Sally continued.
“Anyway, after the sheriff’s warning, Floyd stopped coming around. He installed Greg Brown to run the place and tend bar.”
“I met Greg. He seems like a stand-up guy.” I smiled. “You were right about him though. He’s not the sharpest.”
Sally chuckled. “True. Anyway, Greg lives out in Frederick and he grew up with Floyd so Floyd hired him to watch the place and bartend. These days, I only see Floyd in town when he comes to pay Greg, the waitresses, and their cook and most likely empty the safe with the week’s take. I know that he goes to the bank right after the bar so that makes some sense.”
“Okay, so Greg has things under control now?” I really didn’t want to mitigate a situation at the bar, at least until I figured the ins and outs of the new job.
I also had to find out who the supernatural creatures were. I had no one to ask but Vincent. I smiled inwardly as I thought about the vampire.
“The rowdy ones still come into town and visit the saloon and they all drive big Harley Davidsons. You can hear them coming into town with those loud unmistakable hogs. You know the type of men I’m talking about. Big ol’ nasty bikers with lots of muscles and tons of tattoos.” She sighed again. “I haven’t been called out there since the sheriff had the talk with Floyd so I think things are under control. I’m not sure if it’s because of Greg though. Greg is a really passive guy which is why he’s a perfect fit for the bar. And he’s big enough that I suspect he can remove troublemakers by force if needed. It’s probably why Floyd put him behind the bar. Still…” She paused and I turned to look at her. She kept her eyes on the road.
“What?”
“Well, I think Greg is just as intimidated by Floyd as the rowdy bunch.”
“You’re right. Floyd sounds like a piece of shit bully.”
She nodded. “Which is why I’m glad he’s rarely around.”
The car lurched as it ran over a bump and I looked straight ahead, noting how rutted the road had gotten. The trees were thick on both sides of us. We’d only been driving about fifteen minutes when Sally pointed out the front windshield. “There’s the lights from the sheriff’s car. He told me he’d leave them on for us.”
I looked where she was pointing and sure enough, I spotted a large trailer and a smaller truck hooked up to the front of it. The headlights of the truck were on, pointing off into the trees and the trailer was lit up inside. The lights in the trailer told me that the sheriff of Lompoc and whoever was with him were probably waiting for us to arrive. As soon as we drove up, the door to the truck opened and a tall man stepped out. I hadn’t realized anyone was sitting inside the truck, probably because I was too focused on how creepy it felt just being this deep in the woods with no one around.
Sally and I got out and walked over to the man who was about sixty with a slightly paunchy belly and a ruddy, sunburned face. I noticed that he wore a sidearm strapped to his hip and I really hoped he was who he said he was. I had my Glock and Sally also wore a gun, but the last thing I wanted to have to do was draw my weapon.
“You must be Deputy Winters,” the man said to Sally, sticking out his hand.
“Yes, that’s right and this is our new sheriff, Rome
