She imagined reaching beneath the counter.
Opening the purse.
Unwrapping the ring.
Placing it in Dutch's hand.
Easy.
Simple.
Correct.
Then another thought followed.
Bear had been attacked.
The ring had been found where he parked.
Chloe had carried it home.
Jackson had handled the situation indirectly.
If Dutch believed someone had taken the ring during the attack, possession alone might look terrible.
She did not know these men.
They did not know her.
Fear made every possibility look fatal.
“I served him,” she said.
Dutch waited.
“He drank his coffee. Ate pie. Paid. Left.”
“Anybody outside?”
“Not that I saw.”
“Vehicles?”
Chloe searched her memory.
“A pickup at the gas station.”
“What color?”
“White, I think.”
“Police?”
The question struck something inside her.
She looked at Dutch.
“I don't know.”
“Think.”
Chloe tried.
She remembered locking the register.
Bear walking out.
Harley starting.
Truckers talking.
Had there been a vehicle farther down the road?
She could not be sure.
“I don't remember.”
Dutch studied her face.
He seemed to notice every swallow.
Every blink.
Every movement.
Then sirens sounded outside.
Relief did not come.
It only changed the shape of the danger.
Two sheriff's vehicles entered the parking lot.
Red and blue light flickered across dozens of motorcycles.
Sheriff Miller stepped into the diner first.
He was in his late fifties and normally carried himself with the confidence of a man who had spent decades solving cattle disputes, domestic arguments, highway wrecks, and tourist mistakes.
That morning, he looked deeply aware of the arithmetic outside.
Two local units.
Dozens of bikers.
Behind him entered Deputy Wade Sullivan.
Sullivan was younger.
Forty.
Thick through the chest.
Short temper.
Chloe knew him.
Everybody did.
He liked free coffee and expected it without asking.
He had once threatened to ticket Pete's delivery truck because Pete had complained about Sullivan blocking the alley.
Sheriff Miller raised both hands.
“Everybody stay calm.”
Dutch turned.
“Miller.”
“Dutch.”
“You brought company.”
“You brought fifty motorcycles.”
“Closer to forty.”
“That does not improve my morning.”
A few bikers outside laughed.
Miller did not.
“One of your men was found injured. State investigators are already involved.”
Dutch's expression did not change.
“We'll be involved too.”
“You don't run investigations in my county.”
“I run my club.”
Deputy Sullivan stepped around Miller.
“And your club needs to leave.”
His voice filled the diner.
“You people are causing a public disturbance.”
Dutch glanced at him.
Sullivan continued.
“Your buddy probably lost control of his bike after drinking.”
Chloe stared.
Bear had not been drinking.
Coffee.
Pie.
Nothing else.
She opened her mouth.