by Cat Johnson
Callahan glanced back. “Question him. See if I can find out who he belongs to. If I can’t, lock him up and call social services in the morning.”
I nodded and got a glimpse of the kid’s face through the window of the vehicle. He looked scared shit.
As a kid who’d gotten into his share of trouble back in the day—and still could if my recent theft of the calf was any indication—I felt for the kid.
I’d have to stop by the department in the morning and see what had become of him.
Turning back after Callahan drove away, I was wishing the next-door neighbor who’d come out to see what was happening would go home so I could make sure Red was all right, just as Harper and Stone arrived. Apparently, Stone had been having a late night himself with Harper.
There’d be no alone time with Red again tonight. I’d have to check on her in the morning too after I got my chores done. But right now, I’d have to deal with Stone.
“What the fuck is going on?” he asked as he strode toward me.
I sighed. Yup. It was going to be a late night and an early morning.
EIGHTEEN
Red
Sleep did not come easy for me.
Not after I convinced Harper I would be fine alone and everyone finally left so I could get to my bed. Not as the sun began to rise and I started to lose hope I could get at least a few hours of sleep before having to get up and open the shop.
The night before kept playing through my mind. I remembered Cash’s words verbatim. They still cut me to the core.
“Gotta get home. I don’t want anybody to know where I am.”
That gem came right before he lied on an official sheriff’s report by saying he’d been driving by rather than say he’d been at my place.
I could have forgiven the second transgression if not for the first. I could have explained his lie to Callahan by his not wanting to feed town gossip. His attempt to not embarrass me for having a man in my apartment at close to midnight. But that first comment delivered to me in private as he ran out of my bed rather than stay the night . . .
Yeah, that hurt.
I’d thought I could be happy with what we were. Friends with benefits. But the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I didn’t want to be any man’s dirty little secret.
I suppose I should be happy to be friends with benefits with Cash.
Some would say it was the best of both worlds. I could keep the old friendship and enjoy the new benefits. And considering how much I’d enjoyed those benefits, more than once, I really should be satisfied.
So how come I wasn’t?
Then there was that kid Callahan had cuffed and driven away last night. He seemed so young. Too young to be a habitual criminal.
I wasn’t naïve. I knew he could be hooked on drugs or involved in some bad shit, even at that young age. But he could also just be a kid down on his luck. What had he really taken from me? A cape and a sleeping bag. Some old clothes out of the donation bin.
There’d been a year during my childhood when times had been tough. The adults tried to hide the full extent of it from me and my older sister, but I had no doubt we were never too far from being homeless before things finally turned around for us.
All I knew was I needed to find out either way. And if I was going to do that and still get the store opened on time, I had to get to the sheriff’s department early.
Since I wasn’t getting any sleep anyway, I changed out of my PJs. Not that I needed to have bothered. The whole neighborhood had seen my pajamas in the driveway last night anyway. But I put on clothes good enough to go to work in later and fired up the truck.
John Callahan had the night shift, so I figured Carson should be on this morning. That was good. Carson would be more likely to share the information I wanted than his slightly older, and so much crankier co-worker.
“Hey. Good morning,” I said when I saw him at his desk.
He cocked a brow and stood. “Good morning. You’re up early considering the night you had.”
For a split second I thought he was talking about what happened with me and Cash, before common sense took over and I realized he was talking about the kid.
“You heard?” I asked.
“John gave me a quick rundown during shift change and then I read the rest in the report.” Carson’s lips quirked up in a crooked smile. “So, lucky for you that Cashel was just driving by your place at eleven p.m., huh?”
Crud. He had been talking about me and Cash. At least partially. I opened my mouth to deny it but didn’t get a chance.
Carson held up one hand. “Look, you don’t have to admit anything to me. Just, I mean if you two are dating, you know, come out with it already. What are you hiding it for? You’re single. He’s single.”
The problem wasn’t me. It was most definitely him. Though, maybe partially me too, but only because of him.
It was my fear that he wasn’t in this for anything more than a little sex that made me not want anyone to know. Otherwise, I might have been convinced to give having a serious relationship with Cashel Morgan a try.
Just thinking those words—a serious relationship with Cash—sounded ridiculous in my head.
What was I thinking? He was the class clown in high school. And the town flirt after graduation. The guy who didn’t have a girlfriend, but no doubt had plenty of girls.
I sighed. Nope. It was a fling. A one-night stand and now it was over.
Nothing I could do about that, but maybe there was something I could do about the kid from last night.
“Cash and I are never going to be more than what we are now,” I said. “And since we already have the old biddies for town gossip and they don’t need any help from the sheriff’s department, can we get to what I came here for?”
Carson’s brows shot up and I realized that all had come out sounding a lot nastier than I’d intended. With half the town hating me over that calf, I really shouldn’t alienate the few friends I had left.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep. I’m exhausted and cranky and not a very nice person right now. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
He shook his head. “No. I should apologize to you. You’re right. I need to mind my own business. And stop mixing work and personal.”
I drew in a breath. “So, I wanted to ask about the kid from last night.”
“Yeah.” Carson blew out a loud sigh. “That’s a tough one.”
“In what way? I know nothing about him. Were you able to find his parents?”
“We found nothing. He had no ID on him and he’s refusing to give us a name or address. That means we’re stuck pawing through the system looking for a match among reports of missing children.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. The way it stands now we’re waiting for child services to arrive and hoping to find him a spot somewhere. Juvenile facilities are over-crowded. And even temporary placements with a foster family are hard to come by. Not that I’m convinced we should be sending him to live with a family given the fact that if he is your thief, he’s been making a habit of break-ins all over this town. Your shop. The old Van de Berg house. Your place last night.”
I nodded, wishing I could help and knowing I couldn’t.
“You want a cup of coffee? It’s actually pretty decent from the new maker the sheriff sprung for. You look like you could use it.”
Two things prompted me to say no to that. One, I needed to get back and open the store. And more importantly, a big pick-up truck that I would bet money had the words Morgan Farm painted on the door had just pulled into the lot. And I had no doubt it would be Cash behind the wheel.
Since he couldn’t wait to get away from me last night so no one would know he’d been at my place, I figured I’d do him a favor and get out of here now. Wouldn’t want to compromise his big secret. Make that his dirty little secret—me.
“No. Thank you though. I gotta get to the shop.”
Wishing there was a back doo
r I could slip out without looking like a lunatic in front of Carson, the next best thing I could do was get out of there and into my truck as quickly as possible.
“All right. I’ll keep you informed with what’s going on.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that, Carson.”
I really did. Carson was a really good guy. And once again, I wished I felt for the deputy even half the attraction I felt for Cash.
Chalk that up to my bad taste in men, I guess. I didn’t have time to come up with any other reason for it right now.
I headed for the door faster than a normal person would but that couldn’t be helped. As it was, Cash was already out of his truck and walking toward the building when I skipped down the stairs.
“Red—” Cash began.
“Hey. Running late. Gotta go.” I waved without making eye contact and climbed into the truck.
Holding my breath, I turned the key in the ignition and prayed my old girl would start. The dead last thing I needed right now was Cash feeling like he had to help me fix my truck, or Carson seeing him doing it.
She started up just fine and I counted that as a good sign. Maybe my luck was changing.
It certainly couldn’t get any worse.
NINETEEN
Cash
Having watched Red drive away—after barely saying hello to me—I walked into the sheriff’s department and faced the man who had become my nemesis.
Carson Bekker.
I shouldn’t be surprised to see him. The man worked here. And there was no doubt in my mind Red was here about the kid they’d arrested last night. But still, Carson kept turning up with Red, like a bad penny.
I had to remind myself it had been me in Red’s bed last night. Not Carson.
The way Red was acting so weird, that was little consolation. I was having a hard time feeling like the winner.
“Well, look at this. The second party has arrived,” Carson said.
“Second party—what?” I asked, confused and already annoyed with Carson’s cocky smile.
“The two parties named in the report from last night. Red was just here.”
“I know. I saw her.” That came out more defensively than I’d meant.
Carson’s brow rose but he continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “And now, you’re here. I’m going to assume also to inquire about the kid and if we found out anything about him.”
“Yeah. Actually.”
He lifted his shoulders. “I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told her. We’ve got nothing. No identification. Nothing when we run his prints. And he’s not talking back there.” Carson hooked a thumb toward the back.
I couldn’t see the cells but knew they were there. I might have spent a night in one once. Boys will be boys.
But his comment told me a lot. The boy hadn’t already been sent off with child services. “He’s still here?”
“Yup.”
“Could I possibly talk to him?” I hated asking for a favor, especially since I’d been nothing but a dick toward Carson for days. He’d have every right to say no and I guess I couldn’t blame him.
He stared at me for a second before he said, “Sure. Come on back.”
“Really? Thanks.”
Carson grabbed a set of keys from the drawer and I followed him back.
Hopefully he wouldn’t lock me in with the kid and conveniently forget about me for a few hours as retaliation. That might be something I would do—as a joke, of course.
Not Carson. As much as it pained me to say it, Carson was a good guy.
“Sit down in there. I’ll bring him to you.” He tipped his chin toward an interrogation room.
I went in and sat, looking around. I hadn’t been in this room that night so it was new to me.
The sound of the door opening had me turning as Carson perp walked the kid into the room and pushed him by the shoulder down into the chair opposite me.
That seemed a little rough considering, even though the kid did have a fuck you expression firmly etched on his young face.
He reminded me a little bit of myself back then. I liked to joke around, but I really didn’t like getting in trouble for it. I hated authority.
Carson stood by the door with his arms folded. Apparently, he’d be chaperoning. That was fine. All I wanted was a few answers.
A phone ringing out in the office area had Carson mouthing a curse. “I’m the only one here at the moment. I gotta get that.”
“That’s fine. We’re good,” I said, eyeing the kid.
I’d taken him down once. I had no doubt I could do it again if need be.
Looking hesitant, Carson nodded and said, “Knock when you’re done.”
“Will do.”
I folded my arms as the door clicked shut. The kid remained stone-faced and silent.
“What’s up?” I asked, playing it cool.
“Not much. What’s up with you, grandpa?”
Grandpa? I choked out a short laugh. So that’s how this was going to go.
After a life of rebellion against the older folks in town, I had somehow become one of them. At least in the eyes of this kid.
Although I couldn’t argue that now that I saw the boy in daylight, he was young enough I could have been his father.
“Wanna tell me what you were doing at Red’s last night?”
“Wanna tell me what you were doing sneaking out of her place in the middle of the night? Oh, wait, you don’t have to tell me. I heard what was going on.”
“Bull shit.” And now I was arguing with a kid. But still, he had me concerned.
“Oh, yes. Yes, yes. Right there. Right there.” He did a high-pitched imitation of Red and fuck me if I didn’t remember her saying something just like that. “Oh, fuck. Yeah. Red. Yeah, fuck. You’re so tight.” He’d moved on to an unflattering and inaccurate—I hoped—imitation of what I guessed was supposed to be me.
Christ. Was that what I sounded like? And did I really say all that to Red in the heat of the moment? No. He had to be lying.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You didn’t hear shit.”
He lifted his shoulders and looked unconcerned.
“I came here to help you, you know,” I told the little brat.
“You should have left me alone then if you really wanted to help me.”
“Last night? So you could continue to squat in vacant houses and steal clothes?”
He shrugged again. “We were doing fine on our own until you.”
We.
The word caught my attention. “We who? Who were you with? Is there somebody else still out there?” I asked.
He paled when he realized his mistake but tried to cover it with a scowl. “No. Just shut up, grandpa.”
“Look. Joke all you want but I know you. I was the kid who got in all the trouble at your age. I was in one of those jail cells back there once.”
“Oh, so this is where we’re supposed to bond and I tell you my life story? Fuck that.”
I drew in a breath and stood. Time for some scared straight, tough love. I was out of options. “Fine. Stay here. I don’t care. As long as you’re locked up, I know you won’t be bothering Red. That’s all I really care about anyway.”
“Yeah. It sounded like you really cared last night.”
I shook my head and let out a snort. “Whatever.”
I moved toward the door, hoping that would spur the kid to talk. If it didn’t, then this kid was a harder nut to crack than I’d thought and I was going to have to actually knock to get Carson’s attention and leave.
“You really want to help?” he asked at my back.
I was almost afraid to turn around. I might look too eager and scare him off, so I didn’t. I stayed facing the door, my hands at my side. “Depends what you’re asking me to do, I suppose.”
“Judging by your truck and your shit-kicking boots, I figure you’re some sort of farmer. With animals maybe.”
The kid sure knew how to lob an insult. I couldn’t help the glance down
at my barn boots.
“Yeah,” I said, daring now to pivot half a turn to glance at him.
“There’s an old yellow warehouse along the train tracks.”
“I know the place.” I nodded.
“There’s a puppy tied up inside. He had food and water yesterday, but it’s been a long time. And it’s cold in there.”
I swallowed, more affected than I’d planned on.
The kid might be a cocky bastard but he was an animal lover. Willing to put our little feud aside to ask for help for that dog. A kid like that couldn’t be all bad.
“I’ll go get him.”
“You’re not gonna bring him to the pound, are you? They’ll put him down if he’s there too long.”
Fuck, now I was starting to like this little troublemaker. “No, I won’t bring him to the pound. I’ll bring him home with me.”
“To the farm?”
“Yeah, to the farm.”
He nodded, then focused on the table.
I tried one more time to get something out of him. “You sure you don’t want Carson to call your parents so you can get out of here?”
“Oh, yeah. Good idea. Why didn’t I think of that?” The kid rolled his eyes at me.
“Do you not have parents?” I asked.
He turned his head and didn’t answer, but I thought I saw tears in his eyes.
The conversation was over, but this kid’s problems were just beginning. I wasn’t sure what I could do about that, except go save his dog. So that was what I was going to do.
TWENTY
Red
When it rains, it pours.
I never really thought much about that saying. Mostly because I hate rain. But also, because I’m too damn busy treading water with my business to ponder old clichés.
But as I sat idling in the truck where I’d pulled over along the side of the road to take a call, I had to think I was currently under a deluge.
My life had gone on pretty much unchanged for months. Years really. No excitement. No dates. And now, something happened pretty much daily. Things lost and then found. Break-ins. Carson. Cows. Cashel. Dates. Dinners. Sex.
