Free Ring of Fire by Taylor Lee

gonna ask Cougar. He oughta know.”
    ~~~
    Nate made his way across the crowded bar toward Cougar’s table stopping along the way to respond to the various boisterous groups who hollered out to him. Nate had to admit, he enjoyed his star status. More than that he appreciated that his town knew who he was. And what he was. He was their champion. At least that’s how the good people viewed him. The people who didn’t cause trouble for others and took care of the people they loved knew they had nothing to fear from Detective Nate Stryker. But the troublemakers? That was another story. And more than a few heads turned the other way when Nate sauntered by.
    Passing by a table of young people, most of them college age, Nate gave them the benefit of the doubt. Hell, it seemed hypocritical to enforce the drinking age when the guys having a beer could easily have been out in the woods with the tweakers. At least these kids had a chance of becoming productive citizens.
    He nodded at Tucker Barnes, Cougar’s son, sitting at the end of the table. Tucker had been a Division A high school basketball player. Nate had coached him in a couple of afterschool club teams when Tucker was a kid. Nate had been one of his biggest supporters when Tucker made the high school team. He was surprised when Tucker chose not to accept a scholarship from a college team. When Nate had asked him why not, Tucker had merely shrugged and said, ‘I got more important things on my mind, Coach, then playing games.’ Nate hadn’t pushed him, just hoped it meant the kid was serious about school, not that he’d decided to hook up with his father.
    Remembering Jeb’s supposed rationale for kicking out Cougar, Nate paid more attention to Tucker’s looks than he might have. More than anything Tucker was handsome as hell. He had dark, almost black hair that hung carelessly at his collar. His features were fine, chiseled, and his dark eyes flashed with intensity. Guess if you wanted to, you could say his skin was darker than most, that he maybe had a mix of blood—could have been Hispanic, perhaps Indian, somewhere in his genealogy. Nate scoffed. Hell, this was Minnesota at the end of May. Any Minnesotan worth his salt had hit the lakes soaking up the sun boating, fishing or water skiing. Everyone’s skin was three shades darker than what they were born with.
    Nate stopped at the college table and talked sports trash for a couple of minutes. After they’d agreed that the Twins were shit as usual, he made his way over to Cougar. The big man was sitting with his men on the other side of the pub. Of their youthful foursome, Cougar had always been the biggest. Now he was a bear of a man. When he saw Nate approaching, Cougar rose to his full six feet five inches, beating Nate by an inch. Unlike Jeb, Cougar hadn’t let himself go soft. He outweighed Nate by at least forty pounds—and most of it looked to be solid muscle, likely tested by hard physical labor, not hours in the gym.
    His gang stood when Cougar did. There weren’t any women at this table, just angry-looking men, the chips on their shoulders as obvious as the guns in their boots. Nate ignored the towering band of ne’er-do-wells and nodded to Cougar. Grabbing a chair from a nearby table, Nate flipped it around and straddled the seat. He grinned at the sullen gang and leaned forward, his arms hanging over the back of the chair.
    “Don’t mind if I do. Thanks for inviting me. To join you, that is.”
    Cougar wasn’t as handsome as his son, but was good-looking in a rugged lumberjack sort of way. His full beard and bushy black eyebrows woven together in a deep scowl added to his Paul Bunyan looks. He glared at his men and swept one big arm in a dismissive gesture.
    “Git. Me and Big Dog’s got some catchin’ up to do.”
    When his men looked from Nate to their boss and didn’t move, Cougar repeated, “You heard me. Git!”
    He yanked out a chair across from Nate and sunk down. His eyes were shale