Sherriff David Cobb was staring at their white board, his eyes fixed on the multitude of photographs, maps, and statements that adorned it. A shrine to their hard work, all of it connected with crudely drawn arrows.

‘You shouldn’t be in here,’ Alan mumbled, heading straight for the side cabinet, which was topped with a jug of water.

‘You know I said the same damn thing to your boss when he told me you boys were coming here.’ Cobb didn’t turn, but the anger laced within his tone was clear. ‘Told him we didn’t need anythin’ cleaned up by the DEA.’

As Cobb spat the initials as if they were a curse word, Alan popped two painkillers from the orange plastic bottle and downed them with a cup of water.

‘This room has been repurposed as a DEA office. So please, Sheriff Cobb. I’d like you to leave.’

‘Likewise.’

Cobb turned, unfolding his meaty arms and taking a step towards Alan. In his late fifties, Cobb had served his hometown with pride for over thirty years. Time hadn’t been kind to the man. Reducing his hair to a thin, grey crescent around the side of his skull and expanding his gut until it pulled his shirt tight.

He drew his jaw tight, his thick, grey moustache lying across his upper lip like a slug.

‘Tough shit,’ Alan said through gritted teeth, trying to mask the pain. Cobb could sense the vulnerability and took another step closer.

‘This is a nice town, son. The people here are happy and there is next to no crime. Hell, me and the boys often wonder why the hell we’re even needed. When Wyatt came here with the Riders, we were nervous at first. Of course we were. This little town didn’t need that kind of business. But Wyatt and the Riders, they ain’t no trouble. Sure, they might do a little deal here or there, but they keep it off our streets. That’s the deal. Dillon may be their home, but they don’t do no business here. In fact, them being here has caused a decline in all crime and a major boost for tourism. A lot of folk who come to see Charlotte, they make their way here just to catch a glimpse at one of those boys riding a motorcycle.’ Cobb arrogantly chuckled. ‘Hell, my granddaughter says she wants to marry a Rider when she grows up. So having you and your boss here, trying to fuck up the good thing we got going on, it’s pissed a few people off. Now, I’ve been accommodating up till this point, but I think in light of what’s happened, it might be best for you to be on your way.’