Chapter Nine

A warm hand settled on Rueben's knee, and he forced his gaze away from the empty stage to look at his best friend.

"I'm returning the favor," Keegan said with a smile. "You're causing the metal folding chair to rattle with all the leg bouncing." He leaned in closer. "Why are you so nervous?"

The success of the town hall meeting was one thing, but Rueben had missed a call from Seth after he'd left the cabin. That struck him as very odd since there'd been no reason for Seth to contact him unless he changed his mind about Rueben attending the town hall meeting. Or had something else happened? He hadn't noticed the missed call for forty-five minutes, and Seth didn't answer when Rueben tried to reach him. Neither of them left voicemail messages or sent texts because that was tangible evidence someone could easily use against them. Rueben couldn't tell his friend any of this in a room that grew more crowded by the minute.

Keegan's hazel eyes softened. He might not know the details, but he understood Rueben's anxieties centered on Seth. Kee gave his knee a reassuring squeeze, but it hit Rueben's ticklish spot. His leg kicked out, catching the chair in front of him, and Rueben was torn between laughing and wincing. The noise that escaped him sounded like a combination of both. The big man occupying the chair Rueben kicked turned and glowered at them. He wore a bright red shirt that read "Martindale for Sheriff." He narrowed his dishwater-brown eyes, then dropped his gaze to where Keegan's hand still rested on Rueben's knee.

"Gross," he snarled. "Save your nasty grab-ass games for private."

A younger Rueben would've really given the guy something to bitch about, but this version hoped to marry the county sheriff someday. Giving Keegan a lap dance was out of the question.

The bigot shifted his gaze to Keegan. "And to answer your question, your friend knows that the king of queers is about to get dethroned."

Instead of removing his hand, Keegan dug his fingers deeper into Rueben's leg. He smiled over at his friend to let him know he'd received the message. He would not get baited into an argument with a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal, nor would he point out the hetero couple a few seats down from him who were making out. Rueben wasn't sure what about the town hall meeting prompted a guy to stick his tongue in his woman's mouth, but he reserved judgment. Nothing Rueben said would change the man's opinion of the LGBTQ+ community, but he wasn't willing to cower or apologize either. Rueben held the man's gaze, careful to keep a neutral expression on his face because a mere raised brow was enough to incite violence with some people. It was hard to say how long the stare down would've lasted if the moderator hadn't approached the stage and called the meeting to order. The guy with dirty dishwater eyes must've been a Martindale superfan because he whipped around and bounced in his chair with excitement. Rueben and Keegan exchanged a relieved glance before giving the moderator their full attention too.

Rita Hernandez, a spitfire Latina and town mayor, smiled at the audience gathered in the town hall. She wore a resplendent lilac pantsuit that flattered her slim figure and complemented her golden skin and salt-and-pepper curls. Her dark eyes sparkled with intelligence and humor as she began her opening remarks. Rueben had liked her the first time they met because she reminded him a little of his mother, who'd shown promising hints of the feminine fierceness Mrs. Hernandez exuded. The mayor could be nurturing or no-nonsense, depending on the circumstance and situation, but her presence commanded respect. She was the perfect person to moderate the debate between Seth and Martindale, though Rueben suspected she strongly favored one candidate over the other. Three club chairs—one red, one white, and one blue—formed a semicircle on the stage.

Rita stood in front of the white chair in the middle and gestured to her right. "Please give a warm welcome to the challenger, Amos Martindale." Rita attempted to give a brief biography for the man, but the cheering crowd drowned out her voice. Amos grinned as he ambled over to the red chair. One hand gripped a microphone, and the other waved enthusiastically to the crowd.

Rueben surmised that only half of the room supported Martindale, but they were vocal as hell. He exchanged a quick glance with Keegan and the rest of the ranch crew. They'd do their part to give Seth a good showing and hoped the rest of his supporters did too.

"And now it's time to introduce the incumbent, Sheriff Seth Burke," Rita said over the crowd. Luckily, Martindale's fans quieted down and didn't boo, which had become the status quo of modern politics.

Seth's supporters cheered robustly also, and someone started a standing ovation when Seth appeared from the left side of the stage. Rueben bit back a smile as he stood up and clapped. Seth looked a little embarrassed as he greeted the crowd with a humble wave and took the blue seat opposite Amos.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Rita said to quiet the crowd. Once they returned her greeting, the mayor laid out the rules of the debate. "I'm going to adhere strictly to the time limits to ensure both of you get a fair opportunity to address the questions."

Seth didn't remotely resemble the loose-limbed man who'd snuggled with him in a sun-kissed bed mere hours ago. The lines of his body projected tension to Rueben, but the casual observer probably viewed his posture as alert.

"The questions asked tonight were submitted online and vetted by the county election board to ensure they came from actual voters and to avoid any mischief tonight. The constituents who submitted the questions will get to pose them to the candidates. We're going to start with Missy Markum. Missy, will you stand up? Someone from the election board will bring a microphone to you."

The lady who'd been making out with her boyfriend rose to her feet and straightened her skirt. She didn't wear a Martindale campaign shirt, but the people she arrived with did. Rueben wasn't the least bit surprised when she announced that her question was for Sheriff Burke.

"How could you have let an organization like Salvation Anew take root in our community, and what will you do differently to prevent another cult from infiltrating us?"

And they were off.

Seth thanked her for the question and gave an eloquent answer, explaining the difference between suspicion and actionable offenses. "Our department investigated every allegation made against Salvation Anew and took action where we could, but we also had to walk a fine line between harassing people and enforcing the law. You can't arrest people because you don't like them or suspect they're up to no good."

"Poppycock," Amos said when it was his turn. "The sheriff's primary job is to keep the citizens safe. You should've increased patrol and set up stings to catch these rascals in the process of robbing people."

"Rebuttal, Sheriff?" Rita asked.

"Yes, thank you. Keeping the people safe is a sheriff's primary responsibility, but he has to do that within the budget he's provided. I'm not given a blank check every month, nor do I have a discretionary fund to dip into whenever I need a little something extra. We're talking about a series of nonviolent, petty thefts spread out over a seventy-mile radius. My department doesn't just serve Last Chance Creek. We serve all the people in the county. We investigate every crime reported and do so without prejudice. Our department moved on Salvation Anew as soon as we had tangible and actionable proof against them."

Seth exuded calm confidence when he answered his questions, where Amos seemed to exist on sound bites and petty insults that didn't offer a solution or valid counterpoint to Seth's remarks. Martindale's supporters got quieter as the event unfolded, though there were a few loud ones in the bunch. Rueben had to fight the urge to punch Dirty Dishwater Eyes in the back of the head occasionally. The town hall meeting ran smoothly enough that there was time to take open questions from the attendees.

A familiar ginger rose from the front row and held up a hand. "May I go first, Mayor?" Seth's expression was unreadable, but the tension returned to his shoulders once more.

"You're the reporter from the Denver Post, correct?" Rita asked. She gestured for the election board member to approach Oliver with a microphone.

"Yes, ma'am," Oliver replied before announcing his question was for Amos Martindale.

Rueben kept his gaze on Seth and noticed a subtle softening in his posture. He only partially paid attention to what Oliver said to Martindale as he tried to figure out what was going on with Seth. Why had he called? Oliver mentioned something about the college Martindale attended and the groups he'd joined there. Rueben was ready to dismiss the line of questioning until his brain registered the group's name at the same time some of the audience members gasped. The White Pride Brotherhood? Damn, those assholes didn't even bother to hide their bigotry. They spelled it out in their name.

"These are bullshit rumors," Martindale sneered. "I told you that when you ambushed me."

"I tracked you down and politely gave you the opportunity to address the cold, hard facts before my story goes live tomorrow," Oliver countered. He then rattled off the many ways he corroborated Martindale's involvement in a neo-Nazi group while the accused man tried to shout over him.

The quiet murmurs in the crowd turned into an angry buzz, threatening to turn the civilized meeting into a brawl. Seth stood up and seized control of the room with an authoritative voice that made Rueben shiver. Keegan discreetly elbowed him in the ribs, and Rueben pulled himself together.

"Mr. Hawkins," Seth said, addressing Oliver. "Did you have an actual question?"

Rueben bit back a snort because Oliver had made hellacious accusations but hadn't actually posed a question.

"Yes, thank you, Sheriff Burke." Oliver turned to Martindale once more. "Will you stand here tonight and denounce everything the White Pride Brotherhood stands for?"

Martindale's mouth curved into a sneer as he brought the microphone to his mouth. "Fuck you."

"There we have it, folks," Oliver said.

The crowd collectively rose to their feet. At least half the gathering left while the remaining half lobbed accusations at the candidates and their supporters. There were a few deputies in the crowd to help keep the peace. Rueben wasn't sure if they were there in an official capacity or had shown up to support their sheriff. Keegan reached over and gripped his arm hard enough to leave an imprint of his hand. Rueben followed his wide-eyed gaze and saw a brawny man with light hair peeking out from under a dark ball cap. The man matched the description Keegan had given him previously.

"Is that the guy you saw after yoga?"

Keegan nodded vigorously.

"Is that Brother Cain?"

His best friend swallowed hard and stared unblinkingly at the man who drew closer to the exit. "I'm not sure."

A quick glance revealed the guy was moving quickly toward an exit. Rueben pried his arm free and gently guided Keegan over to Tyler and Owen. "I'm going to follow him. See if I can get a photo or at least see what he's driving. We can give that information to Seth."

"No. Please stay." Keegan's expression morphed into sheer panic, but Rueben couldn't stay back and assure him he'd be okay. If he did, he'd miss the opportunity to follow the guy at a discreet distance. Rueben could either confirm Keegan's worst fears or put them to bed.

"What the hell's going on?" Tyler asked.

"No time," Rueben said. "I'll be right back, Kee. I promise."

Owen placed his arm around Keegan's waist and pulled him close. "Go. We got him."

Rueben took off in the direction he'd last seen the man and left the explanations to Keegan. The guy wore a plain white T-shirt, light denim jeans, and a Rockies hat pulled low on his forehead, which matched a good sixty percent of the local male population. What set the man apart was the glimpse of platinum hair peeking out from under the hat. When he crashed through the exit, he looked left and right but didn't see the man. The dispersing crowd pretty much split in half, so one direction was just as populated as the other. The mystery guy was tall and broad-shouldered but not enough to stick out in the crowd. Damn it!

Rueben turned right and walked for half a block, dodging around slow-moving people and standing on his tiptoes to get a better look. When he didn't spot the guy, he doubled back in the opposite direction and did the same thing. Fuck. Did every person in the county show up for the town hall meeting? Rueben scanned both sides of the street and let out a frustrated growl when he realized his efforts had been fruitless. He stopped, spun around, and slammed into a broad chest. He looked up until he met piercing green eyes. Fucking Oliver.

"Well, this is nice," the reporter said in a falsely sweet voice. "Twice in one day."

Rueben arched a brow. "Excuse me?"

"I passed you on Archer's Road this afternoon. Apparently, you were too preoccupied to notice."

Rueben had encountered a gray sedan after leaving the cabin but hadn't bothered to see who was driving it. The reason for Seth's call became crystal clear, and the worry Rueben felt earlier increased tenfold. Oliver had seen him buying the burner phone and had passed him on the access road back to the private lake. He'd either figured them out or expressed his suspicions to Seth. He wanted to ask why Oliver had gone to the cabin but kept his mouth shut. As far as he knew, Oliver only suspected he was seeing Seth. Passing him on a road wasn't hard evidence, but Rueben had witnessed a bit of Oliver's tenacity at the town hall meeting. The hard glint in those green eyes made Rueben think he was just getting started. Oliver gripped his biceps and pulled Rueben into the gap between two businesses. The space wasn't quite an alleyway, but it was wide enough for them to square off against each other.

"Trust me when I say I understand your attraction to Seth," Oliver said.

He'd gentled his tone and struck an affable, just-between-us expression that pissed Rueben off. Loving Seth wasn't a war they would commiserate about over beers. And he had to be very careful about what he said and how he reacted because Seth's career might depend on it. Yeah, his opponent's chances of election were pretty slim if Oliver's evidence against him was as damning as he'd claimed, but that didn't mean they could get careless. Too much hinged on convicting the Carsons for their crimes.

"But Seth getting involved with you is career suicide, friend."

"We're not friends," Rueben said flatly.

"Fair enough, but I'm not your enemy either. I'm certainly not Seth's."

Meaning what? He wanted Seth back? No fucking way. "I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Hawkins."

"Fine," Oliver said. "But you better listen. Seth Burke has sacrificed everything to become sheriff. He could've gotten better-paying jobs and taken advantage of golden opportunities elsewhere, but he turned them down to serve his community. Dating you will destroy all of that. Right now, the sex is off the charts, so you're not thinking long term. Let me do that for you. Even if you keep your relationship a secret until after the trial, and I highly doubt that after today's fuckup, your criminal history will cause a lot of problems for Seth. Sure, he'll beat the neo-Nazi this time, but then what? His next opponent will have a field day with you."

Oliver tsked and shook his head. "You torched your rented house when the landlord decided not to renew your lease. Is that the kind of guy voters want to see their sheriff date?" Oliver grimaced and sucked air between his teeth. "I didn't get a hold of your juvenile record because those files are sealed, and I obtain information legally and ethically. Seth's next opponent might not be so honest." Oliver moved closer, giving Rueben the choice of standing his ground or backing up. He was done getting bullied. Oliver arched a brow and stopped a few inches shy of Rueben. "What will they find? More malicious vandalism? Something darker? The ex-boyfriend who testified in your aggravated arson trial claimed you were possessive and unhinged."

Rueben quelled the rising panic and fury because Seth knew everything about his past and still chose him anyway. The juvenile stuff had been a cry for help. Rueben had been filled with rage and hurt. He'd lost his mom and sister, then got uprooted to move in with other family members. He hadn't known what to do with his emotions and acted out through stupid shit like shoplifting and tagging dumpsters with spray paint.

Rueben hadn't burned his rental house down. Yeah, he'd had a boisterous argument with the landlord because the man had decided not to renew his lease with only two weeks' notice. Rueben had told him that was illegal, and the owner challenged him to get a lawyer and sue, knowing he couldn't afford it. He'd lost his temper, and the argument got loud enough for the neighbors to overhear them shouting. After his landlord left, Rueben had gone over to his boyfriend's house to see if he could crash there for a bit until he found a new place. They weren't ready for long-term cohabitation, but the relationship was going well. Or so Rueben had thought until he showed up unannounced at his apartment to find his man deep-throating one bouncer and getting railed by another. So much for the no-fraternization policy at the club he managed.

Hurt and angry, Rueben had gone back to his house and burned the few things his boyfriend had left at his place. He'd never used the fireplace before and shouldn't have then either. The combination of abandoned bird's nest and creosote buildup in the chimney turned the small ritual into a total-loss fire. Rueben's landlord had claimed it was deliberate and insisted the cops arrest him. The neighbors reported the heated argument, which lent credence to the allegations. His loser ex-boyfriend took the stand and lied about his so-called anger issues to get even for the two-hundred-dollar sneakers Rueben roasted. The jury bought it hook, line, and sinker, and Rueben had gone to lockup for thirteen months.

As much as Rueben hated to admit it, Oliver was right. Many people would have a big problem with their sheriff dating an ex-con, and they held Seth's future in their hands.

Oliver sighed. "Look, you seem like a nice guy."

Rueben turned and walked away. He wasn't interested in hearing platitudes after Oliver lobbed a verbal grenade at him. It was like someone trying to put a Band-Aid on the bloody stump they'd just blown off. Too little, too late. The damage was already done.