Chapter 3

As far as Brad was concerned, he just wanted to kick back and not have to worry about the clock again. He had spent too many years working according to others' schedules, now he just wanted to relax and live a life of leisure. His FBI pension would be more than enough to support him the rest of his days, especially in this hick town.

Brad was a simple man and didn't need much in the way of material possessions. He had never had a desire to drive the latest model car or belong to the country club, he didn't even like golf.
It wasn't what he considered a "man's sport" like football or hockey. Though he would not have planned it this way, and it was not what he had expected, he was looking forward to exiting the rat race. He was looking forward to not having to chase down empty leads, having to deal with the scum of society, and writing reports. And he, certainly, wouldn't miss the travel. No, if he did any travelling from now on it would be on his own time and alone, or, at least, with whomever he chose.

Brad and Trevor, the current sheriff, were good friends. They spent many hours together talking about, what else, law enforcement. They, sometimes, went to a movie together or took in some bowling. They had a lot in common and liked each other's company. But there was something about Trevor that made Brad uneasy, he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He had spent some time trying to figure out what it was but, eventually, dismissed it as paranoia left over from his days in the FBI. Anyway, prying into other peoples' lives wasn't his job anymore. And Trevor seemed like a nice enough guy. They had known each other for a while and Brad never had a reason to suspect anything was awry, but, still, there was something.