“Yeah.” Quinn hated it too. He hated that it took good people like Aaron’s mother, and fucked up the whole town like in Ian’s case. He knew Uncle Ian had blood on his hands, just like Quinn himself did, just not in this town, yet.
The front door opened, and Arthur rolled his eyes. Quinn turned his head and saw Sheriff Henderson walk in.
The man went to the bar and got himself a coffee from the bored girl behind the counter, and then ambled over to sit at the table across from the booth.
“Morning,” Sheriff Henderson said, smirking a little.
“Good morning, Sheriff,” Ian said in a pointedly neutral tone.
Arthur nodded but said nothing.
Quinn felt like this was a frequent occurrence. Then Henderson aimed his piercing gaze at Quinn.
“Quinn MacGregor. Haven’t seen you in town in a while,” he said in a conversational tone
“That might be because I haven’t been back since my father was put away for killing your predecessor,” Quinn said in the same exact tone.