Free A Darker Shade of Midnight by Lynn Emery Page B

me some harm.”
    “Just stay calm, man. No need for that shotgun now. We’re all friends out here.”   The man that called himself “Bob” tried a smile. His left eye twitched when Chase swung the barrel in his direction.
    “I’m having a hard time believing the lady considers you boys her friends . You okay?” Chase asked without taking his eyes off the two men.
    LaShaun brushed dirt from her jeans and blouse. “Yeah. I’ve got a whole list of names for these two, and friends ain’t one of ‘em.”
    “You gentlemen will be going to jail so we can sort this out. I’m Deputy Broussard, Vermillion Parish Sheriff’s Department. My badge is my left back pocket,” Chase said to LaShaun.  
    She stared at his butt, shown to great advantage in the well-fitted blue jeans. LaShaun raised an eyebrow at him, but he continued to focus on the two men. Using the tips of her fingers, LaShaun slid his wallet from the back pocket. She flipped it open to show his badge. She looked at the driver’s license opposite it. Chase wore a crooked grin in the photo, and a lock of his black hair was across the right side of his forehead.  
    “You boys got more trouble than you bargained for today,” LaShaun murmured, but continued to gaze at handsome picture.  
    Chase glanced at her briefly. “Turn around. I have some rope in my tackle box back on the ground there. We’re gonna tie them up until I can get the plastic cuffs from my truck.”
    “Oh, now wait a minute, buddy.” Bob looked at his companion.
      “Deputy Broussard,” Chase snapped back at him.
    “Listen, how ‘bout we apologize to the lady and just let bygones be bygones. We saw a pretty woman and got a little too flirty is all.” Jerry rubbed his jaw nervously. “We’re real sorry, ma’am. Ain’t we, Wally?”
    “Yeah, yeah,” Wally nodded with fervor.
    “We made a few sassy remarks, but that was all. You know how it is with us guys, buddy. I mean Deputy Broussard.”
    Before LaShaun could speak, Chase replied in a voice cold and hard as steel. “She scratches on her wrists and her clothes were messed up.”
      “Let ‘em go, Deputy Broussard.” LaShaun smiled at the men, causing them to look even more worried.
    “Are you sure?” Chase frowned.
    “I don’t need the hassle of pressing charges. At least not this time.” LaShaun brushed more dirt from her jeans.
      “I wrote down the plate number on that raggedy blue truck of yours. It’ll take me maybe five minutes to find out everything about you two, right down to what you had for breakfast this morning. You get what I’m sayin’?” Chase lowered the shotgun a bit.
    “Yes, sir,” Wally muttered, a sullen expression stamped on his scruffy face.  
    He bumped into his friend as they both left quickly, first at a trot that turned into a full run through the thick underbrush. When they disappeared. Chase lowered the shotgun until it pointed at the ground. LaShaun let out the deep breath that she’d been holding.
    “Maybe you should go to the hospital and get checked out.” Chase gave her swift once over like seasoned lawman trained to pick up details.
    “I’m okay. Thanks for coming to the rescue again.” LaShaun started to shiver. She folded her arms in an attempt to regain control.  
    Chase looked around quickly then rested the shotgun against a tree trunk nearby. He wrapped one muscular arm around her. “They’re gone. The way they took off outta here, they may be ten miles down the road by now. Between the two of us, we scared the spit outta of ‘em. You’re safe.”
    LaShaun could only shake her head. After about a minute she could feel his solid presence calm the trembling sensation that had taken over her. “Are hugs part of your deputy training?”
    “Right there in section five of the lawman’s handbook.” Chase smiled at her. Then he stepped back and picked up his shotgun again. “At least let me put some antiseptic on those scratches.”  
    “I’ll survive.”