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Before I could say anything more, a throat cleared, and I looked up to find Gentry and Black there looking formidable as ever.

“Time to go,” he said to the two of us. “Zinnia, your mother is in the lobby waiting for you.”

Zee looked at me like she wanted to say something to me, but Black cleared his throat and said, “Now, Zinnia.”

I rolled my eyes at the way that she all but ran out of the room.

“Am I free to go, too?” I asked, not bothering to get up.

Black jerked his chin at me. “Not yet.”

I sighed and closed my eyes as the bars clanged shut.

The rest of the chattering of my neighbors was gone, the men no longer talking about how preposterous it was that they’d been thrown in jail.

There was, however, one man who sounded drunk a few cells down from me.

He was chattering on and on about a woman named Harley.

At least, I thought it was Harley.

It took me way too long to realize that it wasn’t “Harley” but “Charleigh.”

“Are you talking about Charleigh Kensington?” I asked the man.

The chattering stopped.

“What’s it to you?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “I am just beyond curious. What did she do to piss you off?”

“Her?” He laughed, continuing to slur his words. “Nuffin. But that stupid assssshole that she’s datin’?

“The soccer player?” I asked.

Last I heard, Charleigh was working with an ex-professional soccer player who now owned the Wyoming Condors—a professional National Football League—and the Montana Cowgirls—a women’s professional soccer team. They could be dating.

Hell, the way that this drunk was carrying on, they might very well be.

There was only so much anger and contempt you could have for someone if they hadn’t replaced you.

“And that stttupid sh-sheriff.” He growled. “I was just tryin’…” He hiccupped. “To see her. To say hi!”

Oh, boy.

“Sheriff Black sure is something.” I smiled.

It was good to know that I wasn’t the only one who had troubles with the hunky sheriff.

“He’s going to pay.” He sounded more sober now, slurring his words a little less. “I’m going to find a way to ruin his life.”

Oh, boy.

For the next fifteen minutes, I listened to him come up with ways to do just that.

Shaving him bald.

Jumping him in an alley.