before I do, we need a teaser—thirty minutes of film should do. Do you have any ideas on where you want to start your crusade against evil?”
Josiah smiled. “The infamous Miss Hattie’s Henhouse.”
“I thought that place had closed down.”
“An obvious lie to keep the wickedness going.” He glanced in his rearview mirror, surprised to see the flashing red lights. He looked down at the speedometer, but since he was going under the speed limit, he figured the officer was after someone else and pulled over out of the way. “But I’ll need to do some more investigation and get back to you.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Mike said.
The producer’s about-face had Josiah smiling even broader. The smile died when the sheriff’s car pulled up behind him. Not because he was worried about getting a ticket but because the sight brought back the memory of the woman who had been pulled over earlier. The same woman who had witnessed his humiliation at the Henhouse.
He’d recognized her as soon as she’d stepped out of the door of Miss Hattie’s. Not her face as much as her shapely hips that had been so nicely displayed when the sheriff had her bent over the trunk of his car. And Josiah rarely forgot a nice ass. Which was another thing that pissed him off. He might’ve succeeded in getting a little piece of it if the crippled hag hadn’t pulled out the gun. And who knew, maybe he still would. There was something very familiar about the woman’s face. He had seen her before, and not just today.
The sound of crunching gravel beneath boots brought him out of his thoughts and back to the present. He glanced in his side mirror, half expecting to see the sheriff who had arrested the woman. Instead, it was a much older man.
“I’m sorry, Sheriff,” Josiah said before the man had even reached him. “Was I speeding? Or is this about me talking on my cell?”
The sheriff hooked his thumbs in his loaded-down utility belt. “I wish it was one of those.” His eyes narrowed. “Nope, this has to do with my wife.”
Josiah’s smile froze as he mentally stumbled over the list of married women he’d screwed in the last year. It took a while. Married women seemed to love having sex with preachers as much as a dog loved chasing his tail. Up until this point, Josiah had suffered no bad effects from his little trysts.
But he figured that was about to change.
He looked down at the gun handle the sheriff toyed with and held up his hands. “I’m sure I can explain without things getting violent. Your wife probably misunderstood something I said… or did.”
The man looked confused before he followed Josiah’s gaze down to the gun on his hip. “Oh, you’re one of them city slickers that are a little fidgety around guns.” He rested his hand on the handle. “No need to worry. You’re not in trouble. The reason I stopped you is because my wife, Myra, never has let Wilma Tate get one up on her. And if I let you leave Texas without her gettin’ to meet a celebrity, I’ll be eatin’ TV dinners for the rest of my born days.”
At the news, Josiah relaxed. “Well, of course, I would love to meet the wife of such an esteemed officer of the law. I have always been appreciative of all our crime fighters in uniform—but especially sheriffs. To me, a sheriff is a heroic Wyatt Earp ridding our country of vile criminals with his blazing fast six-shooter.”
The sheriff squinted. “Blazin’ fast? I don’t know if I’d go that far.”
Josiah continued to lay the bullshit on thick. “Humility. I’d expect nothing less from a true hero. Although, someday, I hope to get a demonstration of your skill. But for now, lead the way, Sheriff.” He popped the Cadillac into drive. “Your good wife awaits.”
The confused look remained on the sheriff’s face as he turned and headed back to his squad car. In the side mirror, Josiah watched as he stopped and tried to do a quick draw. The gun had no more than cleared the
Josiah smiled. “The infamous Miss Hattie’s Henhouse.”
“I thought that place had closed down.”
“An obvious lie to keep the wickedness going.” He glanced in his rearview mirror, surprised to see the flashing red lights. He looked down at the speedometer, but since he was going under the speed limit, he figured the officer was after someone else and pulled over out of the way. “But I’ll need to do some more investigation and get back to you.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Mike said.
The producer’s about-face had Josiah smiling even broader. The smile died when the sheriff’s car pulled up behind him. Not because he was worried about getting a ticket but because the sight brought back the memory of the woman who had been pulled over earlier. The same woman who had witnessed his humiliation at the Henhouse.
He’d recognized her as soon as she’d stepped out of the door of Miss Hattie’s. Not her face as much as her shapely hips that had been so nicely displayed when the sheriff had her bent over the trunk of his car. And Josiah rarely forgot a nice ass. Which was another thing that pissed him off. He might’ve succeeded in getting a little piece of it if the crippled hag hadn’t pulled out the gun. And who knew, maybe he still would. There was something very familiar about the woman’s face. He had seen her before, and not just today.
The sound of crunching gravel beneath boots brought him out of his thoughts and back to the present. He glanced in his side mirror, half expecting to see the sheriff who had arrested the woman. Instead, it was a much older man.
“I’m sorry, Sheriff,” Josiah said before the man had even reached him. “Was I speeding? Or is this about me talking on my cell?”
The sheriff hooked his thumbs in his loaded-down utility belt. “I wish it was one of those.” His eyes narrowed. “Nope, this has to do with my wife.”
Josiah’s smile froze as he mentally stumbled over the list of married women he’d screwed in the last year. It took a while. Married women seemed to love having sex with preachers as much as a dog loved chasing his tail. Up until this point, Josiah had suffered no bad effects from his little trysts.
But he figured that was about to change.
He looked down at the gun handle the sheriff toyed with and held up his hands. “I’m sure I can explain without things getting violent. Your wife probably misunderstood something I said… or did.”
The man looked confused before he followed Josiah’s gaze down to the gun on his hip. “Oh, you’re one of them city slickers that are a little fidgety around guns.” He rested his hand on the handle. “No need to worry. You’re not in trouble. The reason I stopped you is because my wife, Myra, never has let Wilma Tate get one up on her. And if I let you leave Texas without her gettin’ to meet a celebrity, I’ll be eatin’ TV dinners for the rest of my born days.”
At the news, Josiah relaxed. “Well, of course, I would love to meet the wife of such an esteemed officer of the law. I have always been appreciative of all our crime fighters in uniform—but especially sheriffs. To me, a sheriff is a heroic Wyatt Earp ridding our country of vile criminals with his blazing fast six-shooter.”
The sheriff squinted. “Blazin’ fast? I don’t know if I’d go that far.”
Josiah continued to lay the bullshit on thick. “Humility. I’d expect nothing less from a true hero. Although, someday, I hope to get a demonstration of your skill. But for now, lead the way, Sheriff.” He popped the Cadillac into drive. “Your good wife awaits.”
The confused look remained on the sheriff’s face as he turned and headed back to his squad car. In the side mirror, Josiah watched as he stopped and tried to do a quick draw. The gun had no more than cleared the
Similar Books
