The Great Jackalope Stampede by Ann Charles, C. S. Kunkle Read Free Book Online Page B

pressed.
    Damn it, those two were going to wait the Sheriff out. Wait until she was all alone and then stash her in their back seat and take her out to their shanty in the boonies and torture her. Or something worse. The dueling banjos from Deliverance played a riff in her head.
    Sheriff Hardass nudged his hat brim toward her two hit men. “Those boys friends of yours?”
    “No.” Were they friends of his? It appeared not.
    He watched her, his lips flat-lined. “All right, then finish your sentence.”
    An idea hit her. A way to keep from ending up tied to a chair tonight with a gun in her face. “I was thinking that you need to arrest me, Sheriff.”
    She needed him. Well, needed his protection anyway, until she could shake these two goons. Being arrested solved that problem. She’d worry about how to lie her way out of this with her family later.
    “For parking illegally?” He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know how things work back in South Dakota, but down here in the desert illegal parking scores you a ticket, not jail time.”
    “Yes, but this is my second offense in as many days.” She held out her wrists. “You should slap your cuffs on me and take me in.”
    Sheriff Hardass pushed his hat back on his head, scratching his forehead. “Take you in? I’m not even heading back to Yuccaville tonight.”
    “Where are you heading?”
    “That’s none of your business.”
    “Well, it’s obviously not a date.” She tapped her fingernail on his Sheriff’s star. “Unless your girlfriend likes it when you role play.”
    He stared hard at her, his chiseled face completely still in the orange-tinged light, shadowed in the crags and crevices. “Have you been drinking, Mrs. Jefferson?”
    “You used that line on me last time. You need to come up with some new ones. And my name is not Mrs. Jefferson .” The less that name was spoken the better, especially in front of the two goons who stood watching them—one smoking, the other leaning. She grabbed the Sheriff by the arm, tugging him toward his white, four-door patrol truck with the obnoxious grill.
    He didn’t budge. “What are you doing, Mrs. Jef—”
    “Call me Veronica, please.” She pulled again, this time getting his feet to crunch across the gravel after hers.
    “Fine. What are you doing, Veronica ?”
    That was better. When she reached his truck, she let go of his arm and hauled open the passenger side door. “I’m arresting myself for multiple infractions.”
    “Did you hit your head recently, woman?”
    “No.” She climbed up into the truck, settling herself into the passenger seat. “Let’s go, Sheriff. Take me in and throw away the key.”
    He filled the door frame, his face a mask of shadows. “What’s really going on here?”
    “It’s simple. I broke the law. You’re going to punish me for it.”
    His shoulders stiffened. “Get out of my vehicle, Mrs. Jefferson.”
    She pushed her feet into the floorboards, digging in the heels of her sandals. “It’s Veronica , Sheriff, or Ronnie if that is easier for you to remember, and you owe it to your community to lock me up tonight. I could be dangerous.”
    “Dangerous?” He guffawed. “More like off your meds.”
    “Exactly. A night in jail would probably do me good.” And keep her safe. “You should teach me a lesson while we’re at it.”
    “What in the he—heck is wrong with you?” He reached for her arm but she pulled away before he caught her. “Lady, get out of my pickup.”
    “No.”
    “I’m not joking.” He reached again.
    She dodged. “Neither am I. Arrest me, damn it. It’s your job.”
    “I’m not going to arrest you for illegal parking.”
    Shit. Why was he making this so hard? Maybe she should just tell him about the two goons. No, he’d think she was even more nuts, paranoid even.
    Another brilliant idea hit her. “Fine, if you aren’t going to haul me in for my illegal parking, you need to take me home.”
    “Take you home?”
    “Yes. I’ve