She didn’t argue with him, and he waited to leave until he knew for sure she was safe and locked in the house.

Once she was, he climbed behind the wheel and took off, heading toward the bar where Bear had said O’Klaren wanted to leave.

This would only work if he got O’Klaren now. There was a small opportunity to get him. Arriving at the bar, he climbed out, waiting. The car engine was still running.

Reaching into the back of the car, he found the metal pipe he wanted. The owner of the bar hated O’Klaren. The cop had taken advantage of an old drug charge on his sheet to get free beer and to cause trouble.

It would seem wherever O’Klaren went, he left destruction in his wake. The squeaky-clean cop his papers had portrayed was in fact so far from the truth. The man didn’t know clean. He didn’t know how to be a good cop.

The door to the bar opened, and O’Klaren stepped out with Joanne by his side. She was struggling to play her part.

O’Klaren’s grabby hands were wandering all over her body, and she clearly didn’t want them.

Clearing his throat, Preacher drew O’Klaren’s attention toward him.

“Now, look what we have here,” he said. “Do you see this piece of shit? He really thinks he’s something, but I can promise you, he’s nothing but a bug. Someone I’m more than happy to squash.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To get rid of me,” Preacher said. “You know when I first heard about you, I was wondering if I’d be able to handle you. How I was going to deal with another cop breathing down my fucking neck. I mean, your entire resume was painted as to how amazing you are, but the truth is, you’re not perfect. You’re a piece of shit.”

“What are you going to do with that pipe?” O’Klaren asked.