Lila picked up the sundress from its crumpled state on the bedroom floor and slipped it back over her head. After putting on her shoes, she headed to the office, hoping to find Dale and request a couple more towels so she could take a shower.

As she approached the door to the motel office, she could hear the low murmur of voices from within. Upon entering, she saw Dale stationed behind the worn wooden counter, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips, its smoke curling upwards in lazy spirals. Opposite him, a man clad in a crisp sheriff's uniform leaned casually against the counter, holding a styrofoam cup of steaming coffee while diligently jotting notes into an open notepad lying on the counter between them. The sight of the policeman made Lila’s blood turn to ice. She was so distracted by her encounter with Joe and intent on getting towels for a shower, she failed to notice the patrol car parked in the gravel lot in front of the office.

Both men looked up as the tinkling sound of the bell announced her entrance. The sheriff was a middle-aged man with a barrel chest that had softened around the middle over the years, his gun belt sitting low on his hips under his growing belly. His short, black hair was carefully dyed to hide the gray at the temples. His uniform was immaculate, his badge gleamed brightly and his boots shined with fresh polish. When his eyes met Lila's, she saw a calculating intelligence behind them that made her feel like a thousand tiny insects were scurrying along her flesh. His intense scrutiny persisted, making the hairs on her arms stand up on end, and she wondered if she looked as guilty as she felt.

"Ma'am," the sheriff acknowledged with a courteous nod, setting down his pen beside the notepad. He straightened from the counter, casually resting his hand on the butt of his holstered gun, a subtle gesture of intimidation. "I’m Sheriff Whitaker. And who might you be?" he inquired, his voice resonating with the authority of his position, layered with an undertone that suggested something more ominous.

"Lila," she replied, her voice barely audible, betraying a vulnerability she hadn't intended to reveal. The sheriff's eyes traveled slowly down her body, lingering where the sundress clung to her curves.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Lila. You staying here at the motel?" he asked, his voice smooth and inviting. He lifted his cup to his lips and took a measured sip, savoring the taste, before setting the cup on the counter, his piercing gaze never leaving hers.

"Yes," Lila managed, her voice just above a whisper. Her heart was hammering against her ribs so hard she was certain they could hear it. "Um, in Room 12."

Dale shifted uncomfortably behind the counter, stubbing out his cigarette in an already overflowing tray, his eyes flicking between Lila and the sheriff. “Uh, Sheriff’s here asking about…” he began, but Sheriff Whitaker’s head snapped around sharply, his glare like daggers, silencing Dale immediately.

Turning back to Lila with a smile that lacked any kind of warmth, the sheriff asked, “So what brings you to my town, Lila?” His tone was casual, but the undercurrent of suspicion was palpable.

Lila tried to remain calm, swallowing the knot of fear that felt like a stone lodged in her throat. "My car broke down yesterday," she explained, her voice steady despite the butterflies doing a wild dance in her stomach. "I'm just waiting for it to be fixed," a small reassuring smile appeared on her lips.

Sheriff Whitaker's eyebrows rose slightly. "Is that right? And who's fixing it for you?"

"Travis," she replied, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "He said it should be ready by this evening."

"Travis Holcomb," the sheriff nodded, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Decent mechanic. Not real good at keeping his pecker in his pants." He chuckled, sharing a look with Dale who laughed along nervously, awkwardly averting his gaze. “Where did you say again, your car broke down?” he asked picking up his cup and taking another sip of the hot liquid.

“Um, about twenty miles outside of town,” she responded, her voice slightly wavering. The sheriff continued to drink his coffee, staring at her in silence, patiently waiting for her to elaborate. “Next… next to a billboard for an adult shop,” she added, tiny fractures appearing in her facade of composure.

The sheriff set down his cup on the counter and pulled his notepad and pen from his shirt pocket, scribbling down a couple of notes. The silence in the room was oppressive, broken only by the scratching of the sheriff’s pen against paper and the faint, intermittent ticking of the glass decanter on the coffee maker's warming plate. "Say, you didn't happen to see a old, battered red pickup on the road yesterday, did you?” he inquired with an air of nonchalance, his eyes remaining fixed on the notepad as he continued to write.

Lila felt her chest tighten, her heart skipping a beat. Her eyes drifted towards Dale who was watching her intently from behind the counter, a hint of fear in his expression. He gave a subtle shake of his head, a silent plea not to reveal anything. "I… um, no. I don't think so," she stammered, hoping her face didn't betray the lie.

The sheriff slowly closed his notepad and slipped it back into his pocket along with his pen, his hand once again moving to rest on his weapon. “I was just telling Dale here,” he jerked his head slightly sideways indicating the man behind the counter. “That someone discovered the owner of that pickup, a man named Johnny Briggs, yesterday afternoon out by Miller's Oak, which is about twelve miles out the same direction as where your car broke down." He looked at Lila intently, watching for any reaction.

Lila's mouth went dry. "Oh?" she managed, trying to keep her voice steady. "Is he… okay?"

The sheriff's eyes narrowed slightly. "No, ma'am, he is not. Johnny Briggs is very much dead. Found laying in the dirt with his overalls around his ankles and, pardon my language, his cock hanging out." He took a step closer to Lila, his presence looming over her. "Coroner says his heart gave out. Seems ol' Johnny was… let’s just call it, exerting himself just before he passed."

Lila fought to keep her expression neutral, though she could feel heat rising in her cheeks. "That's terrible," she murmured, averting her eyes.

"Mmm hmm," Sheriff Whitaker concurred, studying her face. "Strangest thing though. Johnny's truck is missing. There was obviously someone else there with him as I think we can assume that his truck didn’t drive away on it’s own. After all, it was a broken down old Chevy, not one of those fancy Tesla cars.” He paused, as if gathering his thoughts. "Based on the crime scene, I figure that the victim died during or after having sex with someone and that someone left him lying face up in the meadow and stole his truck. You sure you don’t know anything that may be helpful?" he questioned again, letting the implication hang in the air.

"I'm pretty sure," Lila said, trying her best to look him in the eye. "I was just waiting by my car, trying to get someone to stop."

The sheriff stepped back, picked up his cup off the counter and drained the last of it before discarding the cup in the trash receptacle. “I’m just wondering, Miss Lila, how did you and your car make it into town?”

A worried expression crossed Lila's face. “I picked her up,” Dale blurted out. “Saw her standing by the road coming back from pickin’ up supplies in Cedar Ridge for this here place." His voice was steady, the lie rolling off his tongue with practiced ease. "Poor thang was lookin’ lost."

Sheriff Whitaker turned slowly to face Dale, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Is that so? Odd you didn't mention that earlier when I asked if you'd seen any strangers in town."

Dale shrugged, lighting another cigarette to mask his nervousness. "Didn't think it was important. Just doin' a good deed."

The sheriff's eyes moved between them, the silence stretching uncomfortably. "That’s right neighborly of you," he finally said, his tone making it clear he didn't believe a word. "So you brought her back here and gave her a room… how did her car end up at Travis’s place?"

"Called Earl to tow it in," Dale replied, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

The sheriff looked thoughtful. “I passed Earl’s tow truck yesterday as I was heading out to the crime scene. If I recall, there were three people in the cab. Now, I blew by him so fast, I didn’t get a good look at who they were, but it appeared to be two men with a blonde haired woman between them,” he said turning to look directly at Lila. “I’m going to have to swing by Earl’s place and ask him about that.”

Lila's knees felt weak, her pulse hammering in her throat under the sheriff's calculating gaze. "I… I, um, rode with Earl and Travis to show them where my car was," she admitted, knowing it would be pointless to deny what he'd already observed.

"Ah," Sheriff Whitaker nodded slowly, his hand still resting on his gun belt as he studied Lila’s face for a long moment.

Dale cleared his throat nervously, trying to ease the palpable tension. "Uh, Sheriff, y’all want another cup of coffee?"

"No Dale, I need to get on with my day,” he replied, addressing him with a mirthless smile. He moved toward the door, Lila instinctively stepping aside to allow him to pass. As he drew alongside her, he paused. "Miss Lila," he spoke quietly, a hint of something unsettling in his tone. "I'd like you to come down to the station later today to make a formal statement. Let’s say around five." The request lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.

Lila nodded slowly, her heart sinking, she was hoping to have left this shithole long before five. "Yes, sir," she managed, he voice small and defeated.

"Good," Sheriff Whitaker nodded, satisfied. He pulled his aviator sunglasses out of his shirt pocket and slipped them on before stepping out into the bright morning sun, the door swinging shut behind him with a gentle jingle of the bell.

Lila stood frozen, watching through the dirty window as the sheriff climbed into his patrol car. The vehicle idled for a moment before pulling away, gravel crunching beneath its tires.

The instant the sheriff's cruiser pulled away from the lot, Dale slumped against the counter, his hands shaking as he crushed out his cigarette and lit up another. "Jesus Christ," he muttered, running a hand through his greasy hair. "When sheriff told me how they found ol’ Johnny, I figured he croaked while y’all were fuckin’."

Lila turned to him, her face ashen. "Yeah, after he came inside me, he just… collapsed. I was so scared, I didn’t know what to do, so I just took his truck,” she admitted, her voice hollow. “And then you found me naked, and Earl and Travis…” She collapsed into a chair by the window, her legs finally giving out. "Why did you lie for me?" she asked, her voice trembling as she struggled to hold back sobs of frustration.

Dale took a long drag, exhaling smoke through his nostrils. "Fuck Whitaker, prick thinks he owns this town," he muttered, his voice low and bitter. "Moved here from Chicago few years back. Thinks he's better than us. Asshole." Dale crushed out his smoke and moved around the counter, taking a seat next to Lila. "Besides, Johnny was a piece a shit. Town better off without that perverted old bastard."

Lila wiped at the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "What am I going to do? If the sheriff finds out I was with Johnny when he died, he'll arrest me…" Her voice trailed off as the full weight of her situation crashed down upon her.

"For what? Fuckin'?" Dale snorted. “I ain’t no fancy lawyer,” he chuckled, “but pretty sure fuckin’ ain’t against the law.” His tone sobered. "Earl and me, well, we took care of Johnny’s truck. So you ain’t needin’ to be worryin’ ‘bout that. But… but, Earl wants somethin’ for his silence…,” Dale explained with a regrettable expression.

Lila nodded, knowing full well what that meant. "And what do you want for all you’ve done for me?" she asked, looking up at him with doe eyes.

Dale looked at her for a long moment, his thin face showing a mixture of emotions. "Nuttin’," he said quietly, surprising her. "I see you wearin’ that dress… and well, reminds me of my girl, and I ain't ‘bout to take advantage like that." He stood up and walked back behind the counter, pulling a fresh pack of cigarettes out of a drawer. "Yeah and um, sorry ‘bout how I treated y’all yesterday. Ya know when I found y’all um… naked," Dale stammered out an apology, genuine guilt in his eyes.

Lila felt emotional at his change in attitude, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. In this godforsaken place, surrounded by men who saw her as nothing more than a plaything, Dale's unexpected continued kindness felt like a lifeline. "Thank you," she whispered, meaning it more than he could know.

Dale lit up and took a long drag. "But you still gotta deal with Earl, and Whitaker ain't gonna let this go. He's like a dog with a bone when he gets ‘spicious ‘bout somethin’." He tapped the ash into tray, thinking. "Best bet is to get y’all’s car fixed and get the hell outta here ‘fore five."

The sound of a vehicle outside made them both turn and look out the window to see Earl's tow truck pull into the lot. Lila's heart sank when she noticed he wasn't alone in the cab of the vehicle. She glanced over at Dale, who just shrugged. Lila stood and watched through the grimy window as Earl stepped out, followed by another man she hadn't seen before. This newcomer appeared to be about her age, with a thin build and an acne covered face. His faded denim jeans and threadbare t-shirt hung loose on his frame, and a battered John Deere baseball cap sat atop his head, bushy red hair sticking out from under the hat.

"That's Hank," Dale said, his voice low. "Works with Earl at the salvage yard."

The bell above the door jangled as Earl pushed it open, holding it for Hank who followed him in with a sly, eager grin on his pockmarked face. Earl's eyes locked onto Lila immediately, a gleam in them that sent a shiver up her spine.

"See, Hank," Earl gestured toward Lila. "Told ya she was a peach."

Hank nodded appreciatively, his gaze traveling slowly over Lila's body, lingering on her large breasts. "D… d… damn, E… E… Earl. Y… y… you weren't l… l… lyin'." His lips quivered as the words came out in a disjointed, halting rhythm, stuttering and stumbling over each syllable as he spoke.

"Hello… Earl," Lila said, her tone a little more snarky than she intended.

Earl stepped forward, his boots heavy on the worn linoleum floor. "Sheriff's been askin' questions ‘round town," he drawled, extracting a toothpick from his pocket and placing it between his teeth. "‘Bout Johnny. ‘Bout his truck. Heard they found the ol’ coot under Miller’s oak, overalls ‘round his ankles and a big grin on his face,” he dragged out the word grin, leering at Lila. “Seems that sweet pussy of yours was the death of him.” Both he and Hank laughed at his crude comment. “Anyways, me and Dale got ridda his truck, ain’t nobody gonna find it. But ‘tween that and the tow and lyin’ to the lawman…” he paused, removing the toothpick and wagging it lazily at Lila’s crotch. "Figured it be time to collect."

Dale cleared his throat. "Earl, maybe now ain't the best time…"

"Shut it, Dale," Earl barked, a fiery surge of anger flaring in his eyes as he whipped around to face Dale. Flinging the toothpick he’d been holding to the floor. His hands clenched into fists, knuckles turning white. "This don't concern you," he growled, his voice rough and edged with warning.

"It's okay, Dale," Lila said, desperately wanting to ease the tension. "I understand how this works."

Earl's anger dissipated, replaced by a self-satisfied smirk. He nodded toward the door. "How ‘bout you show Hank and me y’all’s room?"

Dale's face twisted with conflict, his brow furrowing and lips pressing into a thin line, but he remained silent as Earl placed his hand on the small of Lila's back, steering her toward the exit. Hank followed eagerly, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open, rubbing his crotch in anticipation as he trailed behind them like a loyal pup. Lila turned her head slightly, casting a wistful glance back at Dale, her eyes brimming with unspoken words and her lips curving into a sad, knowing smile, fully aware of what was about to occur.

Thanks for reading. Likes and favorites are greatly appreciated, and your comments are always welcome.