Free Deadly Intent: An Action Thriller (Adrian Hell Series Book 4) by James P. Sumner Page B

their car. I stand in front of them, bag over my shoulder.
    I say, “You guys ready?”
    Without a word, they get in the car. I climb in the back, behind Josh, who’s driving. As we set off, I lean forward.
    “Swing by the police station, would you? I wanna see the sheriff before I go.”
    “No worries,” says Josh, turning right at the end of the street and heading up the hill toward the station house.
    “Hey, you’ve got a companion club here, haven’t you?” he asks, rhetorically.
    “Yeah,” I reply. “One of the girls there is friends with Tori.”
    “Really? Might have to come back and visit you when you’re back up and running…”
    I smile.
    “It still ain’t right,” says Schultz. “Drugs and whores shouldn’t be legal.”
    “I’m inclined to agree with you, Ryan,” I say. “But there’s no denying the effect it’s had on the country since the president got elected.”
    “Ah, horseshit,” he spits, waving his hand dismissively. “I don’t trust that prissy, silver-spoon son’ bitch any farther than I can throw him!”
    “Nice to see you’re not bitter about losing your position on the National Security Council.”
    Josh chuckles. “Been keeping up with your sarcasm lessons then?” he asks me.
    “I learned from the best,” I say.
    We round the corner and pull up outside the police station, where we’d all stood just a few hours ago.
    “I’ll just be a minute,” I say as I get out of the car.
    I walk across the parking lot and through the front doors into the reception area. There’s a deputy stationed on the front desk, which runs almost the entire width of the room, with just a hatch on the left to go through into the main office, spread out behind him. His name’s Thompson, and he’s a nice guy. He’s been in the bar a few times—not much of a drinker.
    “Hey,” I say as I approach the counter. “The sheriff around?”
    He looks up from whatever paperwork he's engrossed in. He’s got neat, short dark hair with a side parting, and is clean-shaven and fresh-faced. He’s only a rookie, and has lived in Devil’s Spring his whole life. He’s got no clue about the world beyond our modest borders, bless him.
    “Yes, sir,” he replies, respectfully. “Let me call him.”
    He reaches for the phone but I stop him. “Actually, d’you mind if I go back and see him? I just want a word in private.”
    He hesitates. “Well… I’m not supposed to let civilians back here unescorted,” he says.
    “Then escort me, I don’t care.”
    “But I can’t leave my post, sir…”
    I sigh. I don’t have the patience for this. “Listen, I’ve had a pretty shit couple a days. You’ve seen the state of my bar... y’know, after it got shot at by eight armed terrorists… I just gotta see the sheriff about something.”
    He goes to speak but a voice at the back of the squad room beats him to it.
    “It’s alright, Thompson,” shouts Raynor, who’s come out of his office. “Adrian, come on through.”
    I walk through the hatch, past the other two deputies sitting at their desks, and over to Raynor. We step into his office, which is in the back right corner of the building. He offers me a seat, but I remain standing.
    “I’ve not got long,” I explain. “I’m on my way to Fort Worth. I’m flying out to New York straight away.”
    “You fell off the wagon then?” he asks with a half-smile.
    “Something like that, yeah. You heard of GlobaTech?”
    “Those big military contractors? Sure, I heard of ’em.”
    “Well, an old friend works for them, and they’ve been tracking the organization that keeps sending assholes to kill me. I’m gonna go help them out, maybe put a stop to all this before it escalates.”
    He nods. “I’ll keep an eye on Tori for you,” he says, not waiting for me to ask him.
    “I appreciate that, thanks.” I extend my hand, which he shakes.
    He moves over to his desk and picks up a folder. “Adrian… I wanted you to hear this from me, in