“Probably so.” A shame Gabe didn’t have enough staff for round-the-clock coverage of town. The cameras would help. “By the way, I plan to get—”

Baumer interrupted, “What are you doing on duty today? I thought Saturday was my day on, your day off.”

“I’m putting in extra hours until things are caught up.”

“Hard on your wife and kids.”

“Divorced, no kids.” Three brothers. No father. The sorrow was still a hollow ache around his heart. “And you?”

“I got a wife and a couple of little boys. Still in diapers.” As Baumer leaned against the SUV, settling in like a true southerner for a spate of gossip, Gabe felt…crowded. Enough already. He checked his watch. Two o’clock. “You’re on in an hour. After you start, take some time to familiarize yourself with the SUV and then keep an eye on downtown and the tourists.”

Baumer blinked and straightened. “Will do.”

As they parted, Gabe headed for the coffee shop. He fucking needed some coffee.

Inside, a few locals were at the counter, getting refills after the show. The hippie gas station owner looked up from choosing a pastry to give Gabe a nod.

And there was Julie. Her golden hair brightened the dimly lit back corner where she sat. Her laptop was on the table, and, after a glance at him, she focused on her work. The tension in her shoulders said she didn’t want to talk with him.

Just as well. This wasn’t the place to deliver an apology. He wasn’t sure how to phrase the sentiment anyway. Sorry your lies pissed me off.

With an exasperated grunt, he moved to the counter.

“Good afternoon, Chief.” Behind the huge coffee-making apparatus, Sarah held up a to-go cup. “Drip again?”

“Thanks. My last cup was a lifetime ago.”

“Some days are like that.” After passing him his coffee, she rested her hands on the counter and straightened—a private preparing to give report to the sergeant.

“Yes?” He eyed her as he took a sip.

“The man who slapped Julie last night. His name is Keaton. He’s a member of that cult—the PZs.”

“The who?”

“Patriot Zealots.” Her mouth twisted with repugnance. “Captain Nabera, Parrish’s second-in-command was also at the table. The older black-haired man. I didn’t recognize the other two, but the population out at the PZ farm changes constantly.”

“Keaton. Got it, thank you.”

When she turned to a new customer, Gabe grabbed a pastry and left enough money to cover the bill. Setting his coffee on a table, he leaned against a wall and ate while watching people come and go.

Seeing his badge, most smiled and nodded. Two of the women said, “Welcome to Rescue.” One man in his thirties didn’t trouble to hide his glare. Another frowned.

So, some were in favor of a police presence, others weren’t.

Julie never looked up.

Dammit.