Page 107 of The Heir

“What?” I blurted out.

“Blaze Aviston?”

Well shit, that was never good.

I cleared my throat and waited to be told I had another fucking warrant.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” she asked, drawing my attention back to her at once.

“Should I?” I kept my tone polite.

She grunted and smiled, her eyes filling with something I’d become so familiar with I could recognize it anywhere– Sympathy.

“I’ve been the sheriff here a long time. I remember you and your mother. How is she?”

“She’s good– she’s here on vacation from–”

“Georgia,” she finished my sentence for me. “You two started over with Oakland O’Brian, right?”

“You mean Agent Oakland O’Brian?”

She gave a sharp, startled laugh and placed a hand to her chest, “That’s a helluva vest change, ain’t it?”

“They’re both federal agents now.” I had to catch myself from saying feds, I’d grown so used to speaking like the locals. “But– as long as I can remember Oak he’s been in uniform, so it never surprised me.”

She nodded, that fond smile firmly in place.

“Yes, he was a marine, right?”

I nodded, “He and Easy both.”

“That’s right. A shame what happened to him.”

I bristled, even if she hadn’t really given me cause. Maybe it was the way my mother always judged Easy, “Yeah, what exactly is it you think happened to him?”

“He was given a criminal record instead of the number to a therapist. It's cases like his that led to the formation of the very court program you’re in.”

I nodded and smirked. “You remembered me from your house arrest list, is what you meant to say earlier–”

I dismissed all of her concerns as some effort to gain information, and started surveying the lot again. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but I was itching to get the fuck away from her.

“No, I remember you as the little boy who was stuck in a very grown-up mess. A child who never had the buffer of a safe space and the attention of his parents–” She shut up rather abruptly when I turned on her at the mention of my parents.

She held her hands up in a defensive gesture, her tone going soft, “I was there, Blaze.”

“Yeah? For what fuckin’ part?” I spat, growing impatient with her efforts to prove she knew me on some personal level.

She stilled when I cursed, and I actually felt bad for it a little.

“All of it. Let’s see– I think– The first time we met was at your aunt’s house.”

I snorted, “Yeah, I didn’t spend a lot of time at my aunt’s dope spo–”

The word dried in my mouth. I did have a memory of my aunt’s house. A very clear one of her suicide attempt, which surely included deputies and ambulances.

“She lived,” I blurted out, causing the sheriff to flinch and quietly study me until I clarified, “Joplin.”

“She did. She was sent to a hospital. That hospital had some of the last video surveillance we had of your father.”