by Dawn Sister
What I intended as a quick reassuring kiss has turned into a full on, spine liquefying clinch. I pull away because I can still hear the damn knocking even if Cal can't, and I'd rather not answer the door to Sheriff Jefferson with a hard on,
"Sheriff, er, J-Jefferson?" I remind Cal breathlessly. He regards me with wide innocent eyes,
"Oh yeah!" he says as he smoothes down my t shirt and steps around me, touching his fingertips to his lips in wonder as he precedes me through the door, "Come on, Jake, let's not keep him waiting." He has the smuggest damn look on his face and I narrow my eyes, because did he just get the better of me again? I swear he looks like the cat that got the cream.
I pass him, pursing my lips and giving him a sideways glance as I do. I pull open the door to finally let our esteemed Sheriff inside. Cal immediately gasps, grasps hold of my shirt and hides behind me. I groan as I remember the Sheriff isn't exactly his favourite person in the world,
"Well, finally." Jefferson blurts out, "What the hell kept you? I was beginning to get worried."
Sheriff Jefferson is a large, some would say overweight; some would say cuddly, middle aged man. Middle aged as in he's older than me. He can sometimes be a little abrupt, intimidating and bombastic, but he's a very good and thorough professional, so when he bursts into your house in the state he's in right now you have to think that something is not quite right. He seems more excited than concerned though,
"Sheriff!" I state as his large presence dominates my hall, "Come in, by all means."
"You know I was this far from breaking down your door?" he tells me gruffly. He shows me, with his thumb and forefinger, just how far he was from what seems like very drastic action,
"We were asleep." I tell him as he makes his way to my kitchen, his thumbs stuck into his gun holster,
"So you ain't even got any coffee made yet?" he asks in exasperation, "Come on Jake, my team needs sustenance."
"Your team?" I ask him in confusion glancing quickly at Cal who shrugs, equally perplexed.
"Yeah!" he nods, "Someone was supposed to call ahead to warn ya. I got a whole team together first thing this morning to come and fix this kid's house up."
"What?" Cal asks in surprise, forgetting his fear of the over large lawman and stepping out from behind me.
Jefferson turns to him and nods, "Yep, when I spoke to Dave at the hardware store and he heard what had happened he called just about everyone he knows and I did the same. That'd be pretty much everyone in town. They all wanted to help. There's an entire team of people out there waiting for instructions from yours truly to start tidyin' up and fixing everything that's broke. You're a popular guy Cal Steele."
"Oh my god!" Cal exclaims as he rushes to the door, me directly behind him. I hear the Sheriff's chuckle as Cal pulls the door open and stands in stunned silence on the porch.
I am also stunned beyond words. Our shared drive and the street in either direction is full of parked cars and trucks and people getting out of them with brushes, and tools and trash bags. They're all calling to each other as if they're on an outing, someone has even brought along a gas barbecue and they wave to us cheerily as they carry it through to the beach. How the hell did I not hear any of this? This is completely crazy, but this is Oakwood Bay for you. Everyone gets on with their business until someone really needs some help and then everyone rallies around and usually treats it as an excuse for a social outing.
"So here we are." The Sheriff says, sounding really proud of himself for getting this together, "I'm gonna go and see if there's any more for the forensic team to dig out before everyone gets started with trash sacks and stuff." He tells Cal, who nods, utterly taken aback by the Sheriff's and everyone else's willingness to help him, "I'll be back in about ten minutes to ask you both a few more questions." Jefferson winks at us, "I also don't want to miss out on one of Sarah's breakfasts." He chuckles.
He leaves us with bewildered expressions on our faces until my attention is caught by the figure of my sister striding towards my house carrying two large bags of groceries. She's followed by Lou Anne and two other women I don't recognise but who are equally laden with bags.
"Jake. Don't you ever answer your phone?" She calls as she reaches the bottom of the steps, "And what a surprise to find you both still in your pyjamas." She sounds extremely unsurprised,
"We're not in our pyjamas, Sarah, they're sweatpants." I tell her, ignoring the other women's smirks. I see Cal's amused expression out of the corner of my eye and hear him chuckle. I nudge him irritably, since he's standing close enough to be actually in my damn sweat pants himself. He gasps indignantly but I ignore him as Sarah seems to be in one of her take over modes, "What are you doing here, Sarah?" I ask her. She snorts and shakes her head,
"All these people have to be fed." She explains, walking up my porch steps to join us, "I did call ahead but you were obviously, erm, too busy to answer your phone. You don't mind if we set up shop in your kitchen do you?" I know by her tone she's only asking out of politeness. She's going to do it whatever I say so I shrug and move out of her way,
"Go ahead!" I tell her.
She pushes past me, places her grocery bags on the ground and pulls Cal into a hug then pulls back to plant an affectionate kiss on his cheek,
"How are you sweetie?" she asks, holding him at arm's length and rubbing his arms up and down soothingly. Cal gives me a sideways glance that I don't really understand because there're ice crystals in those baby blues.
"I'm fine thanks." He tells her. His tone quite clearly tells me there is more to add to that statement and I wonder, judging by his expression, if it might be: "No thanks to Jake."
I am getting the distinct impression that I am somehow in the doghouse. I have absolutely no idea why though.
Lou Anne gives us a wink as she leads the others through my house to the kitchen. Sarah is guiding Cal inside so I follow with one last glance at the organised chaos outside on my drive,
"When I heard what happened I was shocked to the core, Cal." Sarah is saying as she gives Cal an almost motherly look: the look she usually reserves for me. Well that's unexpected. She's never usually so ready to mother anyone else as relentlessly as she does me. I guess Cal deserves it though, "Everyone in town wanted to come and help in some way." She continues, "I've put together a catering team and there's a team here from Dave's Hardware store. Some others have come to just help with the clean up. Even some of the guys from the party last night are here, nursing hangovers no doubt."
"I don't know what to say." Cal tells her, in a state of shock at the kindness and community spirit that's at work here, "I just expected to have to do it all myself."
His statement shocks me, because did he think I wouldn't help him? Sarah smiles at him and urges him to sit on a stool at my kitchen bench,
"We couldn't just sit by and let you struggle through this by yourself, Cal." She assures him softly, "This is what we do here in Oakwood Bay, we help when we can. Have you had breakfast yet?" Sarah asks as us both,
"No," Cal tells her, shooting me another icy glare which Sarah does not miss, "We'd just woken up when the Sheriff came."
"Really?" she glances back at me with rapidly bouncing eyebrows, "That's interesting." Those last words were only for me since Cal couldn't see. I avoid her gaze and hope I'm not blushing as hot as I feel I am.
Sarah steps aside and makes way for me, urging me to sit as well.
"There's a hell of a lot to do today." She tells Cal, loud enough for me to hear, "You need a good breakfast to set you up. My brother is a terrible host if he hasn't even fed you yet." The other women in the kitchen all click their tongues,
"That's hardly my fault." I gasp, although the looks Cal's shooting me make me feel he does not exactly agree with this sentiment, "We were both tired, we slept late."
"Right." She gives me another knowing look then turns to her friends and begins to organise.
When Sarah organises things it's with almost military precision. All Cal a
nd I can do is sit and watch in bemusement. Cal looks more than confused though; he looks pale and wrung out. I lay my hand on his shoulder but he shrugs it off irritably. He turns to face me, his eyes flashing angrily,
"Hey!" I smile softly, holding my hands up in surrender. I can understand his mood swings. He's got an awful lot of shit to deal with today. He doesn't have to deal with it alone though, I'll be with him. "Everything will be okay." I assure him, trying to let him know he isn't on his own. He narrows his eyes in annoyance,
"How can you say that, Jake?" He hisses at me, "In a minute I have to go out and start picking up the pieces of my home. And as if that isn't enough to deal with I also feel like shit. I have a hangover and it's your fault." I sit back and raise my eyebrows in amusement, finally realising the source of all his icy glances,
"How is it my fault?" I ask him,
"You gave me whisky." He accuses. I'm feeling just a little irritated by his accusation, mostly because it is only partly true. I did give him the whisky,
"You didn't have to drink it. You're an adult, Cal." I remind him, remembering one of our conversations last night, right before we er….hmmm! "Far be it from me to try to tell you what you should and shouldn't do." And I think he knows I'm not just referring to the whisky,
"What is that supposed to mean?" he hisses but I don't get a chance to answer because Sarah has seen us,
"What are you two whispering about?" she asks with narrowed eyes,
"Nothing!" we both answer sullenly, at the same time. My sister sees all, unfortunately. She will not have missed the atmosphere that is quickly forming between Cal and I.
Cal shoots me a look that could be used as effective pest control if it was bottled. What can I do though? I would have lavished all the care and attention he deserved on him if my house hadn't suddenly been invaded by bombastic Sheriffs and my sister's coven. There isn't going to be an opportunity to do any kind of serious talking until tonight now. I'm sorry he has a hangover, but is that all he's pissed off about? I want to ask him if things between us, apart from the hangover, are okay but I'm distracted by someone clearing their throat behind us.
I turn to see Sheriff Jefferson waiting patiently for us to notice him,
"If you don't mind I'll have that word with you both now." He says.
Cal's eyes widen and he shoots me a worried look, shuffling his stool closer. Oh now he needs me! And why does the Sheriff need to speak to both of us?
Jefferson gives me a significant look that I can't really interpret but it is full of concern and anxiety that I have never seen from the Sheriff before. Is there something he's not telling us? I feel anxious now, more so than before.
Jefferson sits on a stool at the opposite side of my bench and Sarah hands him a coffee, before setting down two steaming mugs of coffee in front of me and Cal. Along with the mugs she hands us both some painkillers,
"I know the signs of a hangover when I see them." She quips, rubbing Cal's shoulders and giving him a warm smile.
He downs the painkillers gratefully and then takes a sip of his coffee, closing his eyes and groaning in satisfaction. He opens his eyes again and looks directly at me,
"Sarah knows how to look after me." He accuses and I hold out my hands in a helpless shrug as Sarah chuckles,
"I would have made you coffee." I gasp. I never had the chance since we were woken by the arrival of the entire fucking world and their dog. I'm getting a little pissed off myself with his mood swings. Luckily we have the Sheriff to distract us or we might have had our first argument right there and then,
"Look guys, I know there's not a lot more you can tell me that you didn't tell last night." He says, "But the truth is, this kind of thing," he waves his hands back in the direction of Cal's house, "It just doesn't happen here." He takes a sip of coffee before continuing, "What we need to understand about this incident." The Sheriff explains in his most professional tone, "is that this isn't a simple burglary. That would be bad enough. No." He shakes his head sadly, "This is a personal attack." He looks poignantly at both Cal and I, "Nothing was taken as far as we know, so whoever did this had something against you, Cal. They waited until both of you were out because the amount of noise that was surely made would have alerted Jake if he'd been at home."
I gasp, and feel Cal tense up beside me. Despite his anger at my seeming reluctance to take responsibility for his hangover he has pulled his stool right against mine. I lay my hand on his knee and he takes it, holding it firmly in his,
"You think this was specifically aimed at Cal?" I ask remembering what Cal told me about his relatives last night. It's looking increasingly more likely that they were involved in some way.
The Sheriff nods and continues,
"So, what I need you to do is to think of anyone that could have a grudge against you, Cal." The Sheriff says gently, "Anyone who might think they have a reason to do something like this."
Cal bites his lip and looks at me for advice.
What should I do, J? He signs. I return the look with a nod,
Tell him what you told me. I sign back, urging him to speak. He needs to tell the Sheriff about his Uncle and Aunt, even if he believes they wouldn’t have gone this far.
"Can I interpret that exchange as there being someone you can think of?" Jefferson asks and Cal nods.
He gives the Sheriff a brief account of his Uncle and Aunt and what they had tried to do before he'd come of age. Jefferson takes notes in his note book and asks Cal for names and addresses.
"Can you think of anyone else?" he asks and Cal shakes his head looking quite down hearted,
"No!" he says, "But I really don't believe my Uncle and Aunt could be involved in this."
"They could have got someone else to do it though." Jefferson suggests, "If they were intending to scare you." He now bites his lip and looks indecisive, "Now, I don't want to worry you or unsettle you more than you are already but this isn't the first time someone has tried to cause trouble for you Cal." He says. We both gasp,
"What do you mean?" I ask incredulously, "What else has happened?" Jefferson looks sufficiently remorseful and I suddenly realise what he's talking about. Cal does not though. He looks from me to the Sheriff and back again in confusion,
"What?" he asks in frustration,
"When I arrested you, thinking you'd stolen Jake's car." The Sheriff tells him, "I got an anonymous tip off. The caller also told me they thought you were carrying a gun." Both Cal and I gasp. That would explain why Jefferson had acted so quickly,
"You think the two incidents are related?" I ask, my arm naturally moving to rest around Cal's shoulders in support at this revelation,
"I can't think it's a coincidence, Jake." Jefferson tells me, "I got a phone call a few days after that arrest incident, from a lawyer in Michigan." Cal gasps and looks positively stricken. The address he gave for his Uncle and Aunt was in Michigan. "He asked me for details of an arrest for car theft because he was building a case against a Calvin John Steele. When I told him there'd been no arrest he seemed very confused, said he'd been told an arrest had been witnessed. When I told him it had all been a misunderstanding he apologised for taking up my time and hung up."
"They wanted control of my money, that's why I had to leave." Cal says; his breathing a little fast and his face pale, "They said I wasn't fit to be on my own, that I needed help. They said I should give it all to them in gratitude for taking me in when my parents died. They even tried to sell some of the properties I would inherit. That was when the other executors got wise and helped me to stop them. I left, but I didn't leave them homeless or anything. I signed the house I grew up in over to them. I can't understand why they wouldn't be happy with that."
