Alan finished the rest of his water and then calmly put the glass on the table. Slowly, he eased out of his jacket. Cobb’s eyes widened in horror at the amount of blood on Alan’s shirt as he turned to him. Without speaking a word, Alan unbuttoned the shirt, the bloodstain having also seeped through to the white vest he wore beneath. Without saying a word, he tossed the bloodstained rag at Cobb, who caught it and then grimaced.

‘That there, that’s my boss’s blood,’ Alan spat angrily. ‘He died tonight. Shot in the stomach by Eddie Sykes. The name ring any bells?’

Cobb put the shirt on the table and tried to recompose himself.

‘Yes, Sykes can be volatile, but I don’t think…’

‘Think what?’ Alan strode forward, going nose to nose with the burly sheriff. The power dynamic had shifted, and Alan noticed the slight flinch in the man’s movement. Despite his best efforts, Cobb had shown his fear. While he’d done a somewhat admirable job as Sherriff over the years, he paled in stature to the ex-marine before him. ‘It doesn’t matter what you think, or how much “good” the Riders have done for this town. They have built a drug empire worth millions. They have sold drugs throughout this state and many others, wrecking thousands of lives and ending just as many. And tonight, Sykes put a bullet in my friend. Not just my boss, my friend. A good man, who had dedicated everything to bring Wyatt, Sykes, and the whole fucking empire down. And I’m going to honour his work, and you’re going to get the fuck out of my face and out of my office.’

Cobb tried his best to hold Alan’s piercing stare, but he broke quickly. Swallowing to mask his fear, Cobb shot a few glances around the room before taking three steps towards the door. Keen to try to assert what little authority he thought he still had, he grabbed his belt with both hands, readjusting it and pulling his back straight.

‘Nothing like this ever happened before you both showed up.’ Cobb reached out and yanked open the door. ‘If you go looking for trouble and knock on the Devil’s door, then you have to expect him to answer.’

Seething, Alan took a step towards Cobb.

‘Trust me, the Riders will meet the Devil soon enough.’

Cobb twitched his upper lip and stepped out of the office, slamming the door behind him. The loud bang of the wood caused Alan to wince in pain, reaching a hand to the throbbing cut on his head. Alone in the office, he turned to the whiteboard, staring at all the evidence and the entire case he and Sinclair had been working on. As he did, he knew he should have been wondering about Sinclair’s final moments, or where the hell Sykes had taken his body.