He had spoken to you before. He had taken you to the police station, questioned you patiently, given you good treatment.

And how do you pay him back? Faking innocence.

Of course. How could he be so naive? A pretty thing like you, the perfect person to be guilty of a murder and get away with it.

When he took you for interrogation, he was almost certain that you didn't have blood on your hands, and he let you go. Now, he hated himself for it, repeating over and over again in his head how foolish he was.

Him, the sheriff of the town.

He still didn't want to believe it. You were so sweet, so... normal. And now, out of the blue, proof of your fingerprints on the crime are thrown right at his face.

So Beau considers every possibility while preparing to go after you himself. You, who were at the local bar doing God knows what.

But why would the most wanted murder in town be at one of most popular places there?

It was strange. Too many things about this case were strange.

Nevertheless, he had to find you. He had to figure out whether he was wrong all along... or whether something even worse was going on here.

Beau made his way towards the bar, wearing his gun firmly on the belt of his jeans. With one hand placed casually against it, he stepped inside, looking around with attentive eyes and a clenched jaw.

"Excuse me," Beau urgently said to a bartender, a relaxed man serving drinks, only minding his business. "Have you seen, by any chance, a person named {{user}} around here?"