“Here ya go, Karina.” I fumble with my purse as I hand in the test. “Sorry it took me so long.”
“No problem.” She gives me a smile. “I wish everyone took this as seriously as you do. It’s not too late. Do you want to go have a drink at the coffee shop? I have an empty house to go home to, and I just don’t want to do it tonight.”
I’m kind of thrown off by the invitation, and I wonder for a second if she’s hitting on me, but I don’t have many friends in town that aren’t connected to Leighton or Anthony, so I quickly accept. “Sure, they have a raspberry tea refresher I love.”
* * *
“I know I probably freaked you out asking you to come for a drink with me, but the truth is, I don’t know many people in town,” Karina explains as we have a seat in the back of the shop.
I take a drink and make a noise of relation. “I’ve only been in town a short time myself, but I was lucky to be integrated into the Moonshine Task Force group of friends. They kinda take over your life and then you wonder how in the world you lived without them. So what brought you here?” I ask, I’ve never heard her story and everyone knows mine, so I’d like to hear hers.
“Oh man.” She situates herself in the seat, crossing her legs. “You know those stories where women don’t know they’ve been cheated on until three days before their wedding?”
“I’ve seen enough Hallmark and Lifetime movies to know what you’re talking about.”
She raises her hand. “That’s me. I came home from the salon, after getting everything waxed and plucked, was packing the small bag I had for my honeymoon,” she emphasizes small, “when I heard a noise in the spare bedroom of my house. I honestly didn’t think about it, but we had a dog so I went to check it out. Imagine my surprise when my best friend and my soon-to-be-husband were fucking without a care in the world. I stood there for a good minute, trying to figure out if what I was seeing was the truth or if I had conjured up some horrible dream. But they didn’t even notice me. It wasn’t until he came and laid down on his back that he saw me. I don’t know why I stood there, but I couldn’t move. It was like I was stuck in this trance, and I couldn’t knock myself out of it…” she trails off.
“I’m sure it was a shock.”
“More than a shock, I felt like my entire world had ended. Every plan I had was altered, every dream I had was gone.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard my story.” I take a drink of my tea. “I can relate.”
She gives me a small smile.
“How did you end up here?”
“Answered an ad for a high-school teacher, and haven’t looked back. When I got here, I started teaching these classes too. I’m originally from Pennsylvania so I don’t know how I’m going to handle not having snow for Christmas. It was cool last year, but I have a feeling this year I’m going to miss it.”
“But we have biscuits and gravy here.” I wink. “And the Moonshine Task Force.”
“You do have a point, but I’m lonely,” she admits. “I think I’m ready to start dating again, I just don’t know how.”
“I’m of no help to you; I’m still married and trying desperately not to break my own rule by sleeping with the man who seriously makes my heart skip a beat. I’m a horribly bad influence.”
She laughs. “Oh Violet, I signed up for a dating app, I just can’t seem to make my profile public.”
“Do it!” My smile is bright. “Look, I know this sounds weird, but I’m here to tell you that since I came to town, I’ve watched three couples come together and I’m waiting on my own chance. Laurel Springs has something magical about it, Karina.”
“What if there’s no one worth meeting on here?” She holds up her phone.
“Then just keep swiping left until you see your happily ever after. In some way or another it’s worked for the rest of us. Why mess with a proven track record?”
Seems as if her decision is made when she looks down, tapping on her phone. After what she’s been through, I send up a small prayer that she can find someone who can make her as happy as Anthony makes me.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ace
It’s a slow night in Laurel Springs – my kind of night to be honest. When there aren’t people acting insane and hell bent on breaking the law. I’m an hour away from going off shift and ready to Netflix and spend some time with Violet. We’ve been good since our interlude on the couch, but I’m unsure how much longer I’ll be able to keep my hands off of her. She’s an itch I can’t scratch, a temptation I can’t give into.
Sitting on the side of the highway, I’m randomly clocking speed while finishing up some of the reports I have lingering from earlier in the night. A few cars have gone by about five over the speed limit, and I’ve let them go because it’s only going to cause me more paperwork. There’s something else I want to see tonight rather than a stack of reports. I’m finishing up the last paper to work on when a car goes screaming by me. I glance at the mounted radar, whistling when I see they were easily twenty-five over.
Punching my radio, I call in my position and give the specifics on the car. I can’t read the license plate since they got so far in front of me. Gradually, as they slow in the curvy section of road, I tuck in behind them. For a moment I think they’re going to take off in the straight-stretch, but instead they pull over. Now that I can see their license plate number, I call it in and exit the vehicle. Approaching, I can see there are four people in the car, and instinctively I call for backup, requesting Renegade and Tank who I know are riding together tonight. Touching the driver’s side corner of the trunk, I observe what’s going on inside before addressing the driver.
“Is there a problem, Officer?” the teenager asks as I approach the driver’s side door. His voice even cracks as I get closer, but I know not to let his age dismiss him. Someone who was driving a car that fast and gives me this sort of feeling? He’s got something in there.
“Yeah, you were going eighty in a fifty-five. That’s a problem. Let me see your license and registration.”
The tension in the car is thick, I can feel it prickling the back of my neck as I watch him reach over to get it. The driver has sweat pouring off his face, down his neck, collecting at the collar of his shirt. When I hear sirens and see blue lights approaching from the opposite direction, I breathe a little easier. Renegade and Tank exit their squad car and hurry to assist me.
“Got four in the car, I can smell marijuana and alcohol,” I mumble toward them.
They take points around the vehicle, shining their flashlights in. The darkness makes everything a little bit more dangerous. “Everybody get out of the car, I need to see some identification.”
The driver finally hands over his info, and I see that he’s seventeen years old. Back when I was seventeen, I wasn’t driving a car twenty-five over the limit, with drugs and alcohol inside. What the hell are these kids thinking? “Is this your mom or dad’s car?”
“Dad’s,” he answers, squeezing the steering wheel with his hands.
“Go ahead and get on out.”
As we line the group of them along the trunk so that the lights from our cars give us the ability to see, I reach over to collect the IDs. And that’s when I notice Caleb. Son of a bitch, what is this kid doing?
“What’s going on here, Officer?” he asks, smartass grin on his face.
Because I’ve already had to deal with his attitude once, I give him a glare. “You’re with people you shouldn’t be with, and I can smell alcohol and marijuana in the car. Not to mention the driver” – I hold the ID out so I can read it – “Mitchell Sanders, was driving fast enough for me to take his license tonight. You got any more questions, son?”
“I ain’t your son.” He leans back with an arrogance that makes me want to smack the taste out of his mouth.
“You damn right about that.” I step closer to him. “If you were, I’d ground your ass and you damn well wouldn’t be playing in the game on Friday.”
“Right.” He
folds his arms over his chest, testing me with another grin.
“Call his dad, in fact, let’s call all their parents.” I walk up to the driver, pointing to flakes of marijuana on his shirt. “He’s got marijuana on his shirt. Before I search this car, is there anything else in it?”
All the boys shift in their shoes, glancing down at the ground. No one seems willing to spill.
“I can smell the alcohol, just be honest with me. What’s in the car? How many of you are football players? Do you want me to call your coach?”
One of them speaks up. “There’s moonshine, another baggie of weed, and a one-hitter where I was sitting in the passenger side door.”
“Did you all get this at school?” I go to the car and pull the bottle of moonshine out, holding it up. Since the girl told me they were able to get moonshine at school, it hasn’t sat well with me. There’s not a lot we can prove, at least not yet, but we will. Eventually everyone fucks up and makes a mistake.
The kid who told me what was in the car nods. “How do you get it? You tell someone? You leave money in your locker, and boom it appears?” I question. “There’s some sort of process, and I’d like for you tell me what it is.”
He acts like he doesn’t want to say anything, but after a few minutes of me uncomfortably staring at him he starts talking again. “There’s a box in the janitor’s closet. You want something? You go in there and put your locker number in the box. That night you leave the money in an envelope inside, the next day you come to school, you’ve got moonshine and the money’s gone.”
“You have any idea who’s doing this?”
“None!” He holds up his hands. “All we know is that after the barn party, there wasn’t any moonshine for a while. It started showing back up when school started, and eventually we all knew how to get it.”
This is all information I have to tell Havoc, and I know he’ll be pissed when I do.
“Parents are on their way,” Renegade speaks up, sending Caleb a look. “All of them.”
My mind isn’t on the field sobriety test I’m giving to the driver, I’m thinking about what’s going to happen when Menace shows up. Within fifteen minutes, parents arrive, I’ve written citations, the driver is in the backseat of Renegade and Tank’s cruiser. Newsflash, he failed. I can’t believe Caleb got in the car with a drunk or high driver. I’m still not sure which it was with him. We’ve let the dad take the car, and I’m waiting on Menace to show up. I motion for the guys to take the driver as I see another squad car pulling up.
“I got this.” I hitch my thumb back to where Caleb is leaning against the trunk of my car. His arms are tight across his chest, the look on his face is thunderous.
Menace parks the car, and I wait as he turns the car off but then sits there for a few minutes. I wonder if he’s trying to pull himself together, or if he’s trying to decide what he wants to say to his son. Is he embarrassed? Is he scared? Is he pissed?
I’m aware he could be pissed. I’ve worked with people before who’ve ripped me a new one because I pulled their kid over. This with Caleb, though? It’s different. I care about him, I’m worried about him, and I have a feeling he’s not being completely honest with Menace. If I have to be the bad guy, then I will be.
Caleb steals a glance my way, probably wondering what it is I’m going to tell Menace, when the older man finally unfolds himself from his squad car. Truth is I’m not sure what I’m going to say – the truth? Is there really anything else?
“Did you really have to drag him into this?” Caleb hitches his chin to where his dad still sits in the car. “Hasn’t he had enough bullshit in his life?”
“I could ask you the same thing. He deserves better than how you’ve been acting.”
Heat rises to his cheeks, the rosy tint they take is visible, even in the darkness of the night around us. Menace finally gets out of the car and ambles over to us. He doesn’t say anything as he looks at first Caleb and then me. He’s big, and I’ve never been more intimidated than I am in this moment.
“What’s going on?” His voice is quiet as he asks the question to both of us.
I hold back for a moment, trying to see if Caleb will be honest with his dad, if he’ll give him at least that much respect. When he doesn’t, I’m disappointed and clear my throat.
“Here’s his citation.” I hand it over. “And to be honest, I think we need to have a talk. This isn’t the first time I’ve caught him with liquor on his breath. The three kids he was with?” I shake my head, running a hand down my face. “Bad kids, he shouldn’t be with them.”
As I watch Mason’s face fall, I know he has no idea what’s been going on. He looks like he’s been punched in the gut – literally taking a step back from where he’s standing. His dark eyes shift over to the son who looks so much like him. Before me, their relationship is changing, and I hope Caleb will be honest for just a few minutes, long enough to let his dad in.
“You told me you were good. Every time I asked, you said you were good. I offered to get you counseling, to go with you, if you needed me to.” His eyes are sad, half-way filled with tears, and it’s killing me to watch this exchange. “But you looked straight in my eyes, right in my face, and lied to me, Caleb. Why? You’ve never been a liar, why start now?”
The teenager purses his lips, pulls his arms tighter across his chest, and brings his hands into fists. His forearms flex as it looks as if he’s literally holding onto the words by sheer force. Suddenly they break free with a shout. “Like you needed another disappointment in your life – another fuck up – something else that didn’t go as planned.”
There’s a long stretch of silence, until a sniffle is heard. Both Menace and I glance over to Caleb, seeing him double over into himself as the kid sobs like I’ve never heard anyone sob in my life. Menace almost breaks his neck trying to get to him, wrapping his arms tightly around his son. It’s the first crack in the armor that’s been around him since the barn party – and I have to wonder – how many more in this community are silently suffering?
How many of them are self-medicating with the moonshine that killed their friend? How many of them don’t understand the dangers of what they’re doing, and who the hell has brought this shit back into our community? There are more questions than there are answers, but I know once we’re on the case, we won’t stop until we find the culprit behind this situation. We didn’t eradicate it once to have it come back again. And one thing is for sure, this person must be new to town, because they have no idea who the hell they’re messing with. But we will find them, and we will make sure justice is served.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Violet
You know that moment in time when you realize a situation you thought was handled, no longer is? It’s a moment that takes your breath away, that makes your hand fan your face as heat rises up your neck. It’s the flush of awareness when you realize the man who’s been living next door to you is so hot he should be on the cover of a calendar.
Typically when I see Anthony after shift, we’ve both changed and gotten comfortable. Nine times out of ten, he’s knocking on my door wearing a pair of sweatpants and a ratty old t-shirt. Not that he’s not a good-looking man when he’s dressed for lounging, he’s hot then, too.
Tonight though, as he climbs out of his squad car, he looks different. On the one hand he looks dangerous. Like a badass no one would dare to cross. On the other hand, he looks all buttoned-up, too-well put together, and I want to muss the control he seems to have on himself. A bullet-proof vest rests over a black t-shirt, down into a pair of black pants. A thigh-holster wraps around muscle I haven’t really paid attention to before, but now that I’ve seen it, I can’t not look at it.
“How’s it going?” his southern-tinged voice asks as he reaches into the car, giving me an unobstructed view of a perfectly shaped ass. I never got the aspect of ogling an ass before, but dear Jesus, the way those pants cup the firm cheeks of Anthony’s backside? I think I finally understand. Stan
ding up straight, he turns around, lifting an eyebrow. “You okay?”
I realize I never answered his first question. “I’m good, I made us dinner.” I clear my throat. “If you want to go get changed…or not, I mean, however you’re comfortable.”
His eyes narrow as his gaze rakes over my body. I’m sure he can tell what I’m thinking just by looking at me. Since the night at his house, all I’ve thought about is getting him beneath me again. Or him on top of me – I’ll take whatever I can get. “You sure you’re okay?”
My eyes have landed at a spot they shouldn’t have landed. The paradise where his vest meets his belt buckle, which only emphasizes the bulge hidden beneath the zipper. This time he clears his throat, and my gaze travels up, taking note of the yellow letters on the vest – they read MTF – and I spot his badge hanging around his neck. Speaking of the neck, I get stuck staring again when I encounter his Adam’s apple. It’s bobbing as he swallows.
“I’m good,” I finally squeak out. “Hope you’re in the mood for homemade pizza.”
The smile that slowly spreads across his face tells me I’m not fooling anyone. He knows exactly what I was looking at. He knows exactly how he’s affected me, and if it were up to him, he’d use it to his advantage.
Luckily for me, Anthony isn’t the type of man to flaunt much in anyone’s face. However, he does like to tease. So as he climbs the steps of the porch, he squats down so that we’re eye-level. He dips his voice low, whispery enough that it could be confused with the rumblings of a lover on a dark night, instead of a guy coming home from a long shift.
“I hope you made that pepperoni and pineapple I love.”
Clearing my throat again, I answer, “I did.”
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