THE BAKERY WAS on the east corner across the street from the courthouse, facing the main entrance. The sheriff’s office and the jail were on the west side and connected to the courthouse by a covered walkway. Jericho walked instead of taking his truck. He called Elias on the way, telling him about the kolaches, the boy and that he would explain later. It was after six in the morning and a steady line of people were going into the diner for breakfast. Another morning. Another day. Jericho looked down at the boy in his arms. But this one would be different. He went through the sheriff’s office door, but no one was at the front desk so he continued on into the office. Bubba was at a desk writing something in a file. “Hey, Rico, what have you got there?” Bubba was a big guy, tall as Jericho, but he weighed close to three hundred pounds. That never held Bubba back. There wasn’t a friendlier person in Horseshoe, Texas. “Dustin Miller. He walked into the bakery about five thirty this morning hungry and dirty. The sheriff is checking on his grandmother.” “What were you doing at the bakery that early?” There was an accusatory tone in his voice and Rico didn’t like it. It was so unlike Bubba. But when it came to family, the Wiznowskis always pulled together. For a moment it crossed his mind that Bubba might think Rico wasn’t good enough for his sister. “I was picking up kolaches for the guys at Rebel Ranch. We go to work early, you know, and Anamarie always has them ready early.” Rico laid Dustin on one of the cots in a cell and straightened to face Bubba, trying to ignore that feeling in his gut at the steel bars. “Do you have a problem with that?” Bubba held up his hands. “No, man, no. You’re taking this the wrong way.” “Which way should I take it?” “Well, you know, my mom is...” “She doesn’t like me,” Rico finished the sentence for him. Bubba nodded. “Yeah. She’s kind of out there—” he made waves with his hand “—when it comes to Anamarie.” “Why is that? Or is it just with me?” Bubba looked down at the floor and usually Rico wouldn’t say another word. He’d already fought all his battles and he wasn’t looking for another one. But this was about Anamarie and that was too important for him to walk away. “You’re judging me, Bubba, and your family is judging me without knowing the facts. You have no idea why I was in prison. You just know that I was and automatically that puts me on the outside of your righteous family.” “Come on, Rico, that’s not true. The Rebel family accepted you and they mean a lot to me. They have been my friends all my life and that makes you my friend.” Rico shook his head. “Until you can accept me for me without the Rebels’ approval, you’re not my friend.” “Come on, Rico.” The sheriff came through the door and Rico walked out of the cell to talk to him. Some things were more important than the hypocrisy of the Wiznowski family. “What did you find out?” he asked the sheriff, Wyatt Carson. When Rico had first come to Horseshoe, he steered clear of the sheriff and his deputies. He just felt safer that way. But over the years Wyatt had begun to trust him and treated him as a person and not a convict. He appreciated that and today their relationship was based on trust, especially after rescuing the kids from the school before the bombing. Wyatt removed his hat and sat in his chair. It squeaked from his weight. Wyatt had to be in his forties and he’d been sheriff for a long time. Everyone respected him, as did Rico. Scooting forward, Wyatt asked, “I sensed a little tension when I came in. Is something going on with you and Bubba?” Rico always tried to be honest and today he didn’t shy away from that. “He and Miss Doris object to my friendship with Anamarie.” “Anamarie, huh? I didn’t see that one coming and—” he held up a hand “—I’m not getting involved. But give Bubba a chance. He’ll come around. That’s the type of guy he is.” Rico didn’t get a chance to respond as Bubba shouted from somewhere in the jail, “Wyatt, I’m clocking out.” “Okay,” Wyatt called back. “But hang tight. I might need you some more today.” “Will do.” Rico was through with small talk. He needed to know what had happened at Mrs. Miller’s. “Wendy has passed away, probably night before last,” Wyatt said before Rico could ask anything. “That means Dustin was alone for two nights and a day.” “The funeral home is picking up the body and Stuart is over there getting all the information. I talked to Mrs. Waring, who lives next door, and she said Wendy had pneumonia and the doctor wanted to put her in the hospital, but she refused because she didn’t have anywhere to leave Dustin.” “What kind of neighbor is she that she didn’t offer to help?” Wyatt glanced at Rico. “She’s eighty-five years old and uses a walker. There’s no way she could handle a four-year-old.” “Sorry, the thought of that little boy walking around during the night looking for food just gets to me.” “Mrs. Waring also said that Dustin’s mother is still in prison for drug use. There is a sister, but as I recall Darlene and Connie are not on good terms. Connie didn’t take Dustin when Darlene went to prison, so I’m guessing she’s not going to want him now. I’ll leave that up to CPS.” “A four-year-old couldn’t have been easy for Mrs. Miller.” “She was fifty-two years old, Rico, but had a lot of health problems. She was a heavy smoker and had COPD and used an inhaler every day, so yeah it probably wasn’t easy.” Another place. Another time. A great-grandmother had accepted a four-year-old into her life and it had changed that little boy forever. Would Dustin be that lucky? “I have to call CPS to find a home for Dustin until they can locate the aunt or a relative who will take him.” “They’ll put him in foster care.” Rico’s stomach clenched. The words created a bad taste in his mouth and he knew he had to do something. “Wyatt, can I ask a favor?” “Sure.” “I’ll take him until they find someone.” Wyatt leaned back his chair. “Rico, that’s very admirable of you, but I have to be honest. CPS will do a thorough background check before they place Dustin in your care. And you know what that means.” “My record.” “Yeah.” “My record was supposed to be expunged. Will I have to pay for it the rest of my life? I’m a model citizen and you know that.” Rico looked at his friend. “You would vouch for me, wouldn’t you? To keep Dustin from being put into the system?” “Rico.” Wyatt sighed. “I’d trust you with my own kids, but this is CPS. They have rules and have to cross their t’s and dot their i’s. I’m sorry, that’s just the way it is.” “Then why is there so much abuse and neglect in foster homes?” Wyatt shrugged. “I can offer Dustin a home for now. I never take any vacation and I know Miss Kate and Falcon will give me some days off. Dustin needs someone to be there
