Inside Out

23

Rook Island, North Carolina

Wednesday

The sun's rays tinted the clouds a luscious orange. As bacon sizzled, Jet stood at the stove muttering to herself. Cross sat beside Winter, rubbing his eyes sleepily. Greg wandered in, poured himself a cup of coffee, and sat across from Winter. The deputies ate in silence.

After breakfast, Winter and Jet were left alone.

“Miss Sean has bruises on her arm where that man squeezed on her,” she said in a low voice.

“That so?” Winter said, trying to keep his voice even.

“She's been under his spell, but it sure is broken now. A woman can be blinded by a buttery-talking man. Now she's gotten her first good look at him.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so. She has seen his true side, and that man is gonna kill her if he gets half a chance.”

“I'll keep my eyes open,” Winter said, almost paralyzed by the inexplicable rage rising in him.

Jet looked at him skeptically.

“I promise, Jet,” he said sincerely.

After breakfast, dressed for his morning run, Winter passed through the living room.

“I have a bone to pick with you, Massey.”

Winter drew up short. He turned to face Dylan, who sat on the couch, twenty feet away.

“That so?”

“This is all your fault. Soon as Whitehead gets to the attorney general, you're history here.”

“I'll start packing,” he replied, desperately wanting to pound this cretin into oblivion.

“You shouldn't have been talking to my wife. Just what the hell did you think you were doing?”

“Devlin,” Winter said, “I didn't realize the fact that your entering the witness protection program was going to be a surprise to her. The truth will always come out.”

“I could kill you, right here, right now.”

“You want me to give you my gun and kneel so you can shoot me in the back of the head?”

“You get between my wife and me again and you're going to wish you had never set foot on this island.”

“I've wished that since I got here, Devlin,” Winter said. “What got between you and your wife wasn't me. It was her good sense.” He walked out the door.