“I’m not here to play word games with you, Freddie. I know you sent that text.” He paused, drew a deep, calming breath and released it slowly. “Let’s be clear. If you try to hurt Eric or Hayley—or any other kid in my county—I will personally reach down your throat and drag your innards out through your mouth. Then I’ll stomp them to a pulp. You got that?”

“Now, see here—” Fred, Sr., interrupted. “You’re an officer of the law, and you just threatened my boy, right in front of me. I’ll file a complaint! Get you fired!”

“Give it your best shot, Fred,” Eli said smoothly.

“This is wrong!” Fred, Sr., bellowed.

He was right. It was. And at the moment, Eli didn’t give a rat’s ass.

“You can’t do a damn thing to me,” Freddie gloated. “Not until after I get what I want. But then it will be too late, won’t it, Sheriff?”

Again, Eli suppressed a furious urge to do this kid real harm. Pound him into the frozen ground like a fence pole.

“We’ll start with a restraining order and a call to your probation officer,” Eli said calmly. “One wrong move and you’ll be back in custody—and this time, they’ll throw you in with the big boys.”

He’d gotten to Freddie, at last. He knew that by the flicker of fear in Freddie’s colorless eyes, though it was quickly gone.

“Guys like you, Freddie—guys who threaten little girls, never mind hurt them—well, they just don’t do well in the general population. What’s your new name going to be? Nancy? Maybe Susan?”

Freddie went to lunge at Eli then—exactly as Eli had hoped he would do—but caught himself just in time. Spread his hands wide and said pitiably, “This is harassment, Sheriff.”

Eli was still seething, still fighting for control. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this pissed, this triggered. “No,” he said evenly, “this is me being very, very patient. You need to understand; there’s a whole other side to my nature.”

“I understand that they’ll take away your badge and maybe even throw you in prison if you do a damn thing to me,” Freddie spouted. “And I don’t think cops do all that well behind bars, either, now do they?”

A strange calm descended over Eli, almost blissful. “I’m not going to prison, Freddie,” he said quietly. “But you, with your rap sheet and your bad attitude, you’re just angling for a nice long stretch in the joint. Keep pushing. That’s all you’ve got to do.”

“Okay,” Freddie said, spreading his hands again. Trying to go around Eli, make his way toward the house. “I was just trying to shake the kid up a little, that’s all. I didn’t mean no harm. Not really.”