“This was not how I expected to spend my day.” Leo wiped his brow then put his hands on his hips. “At least I can look back on it and say it wasn’t boring.”
“It wasn’t boring before all this.” I needed to step up my flirting game. My words were coming out more creepy than sexy...or maybe it was the room we were in. I preferred to believe that.
He smirked. “Behind you.”
I spun around, half expecting to see something crawling toward me. “What am I looking at?” As far as I could tell, the two living things in the room were both human.
“That chest, the one slightly to your left. It’s different.”
My eyes immediately found it, and he was right. It was different. Unlike the cardboard boxes and the fire boxes that filled the room, this one was ornate—fancy, even. I stepped over to it and slid it from its spot. “I think maybe it’s a music box.” I tried to flip open the lid, but couldn’t. “It’s locked.”
“I know you’re a cop or whatever, and it’s your job to say no, but I think we need to open this.” Leo reached into the tool box in the entryway and handed me an awl. “It feels like it doesn’t belong here.”
“Who’s to say we didn’t open it before seeing the guns?” I took it from him and managed to open the box without too much trouble. It was filled with jewelry. Most of it, if not all of it, was costume jewelry, but some of it had some age to it.
“Her jewelry.” Leo ran his hand over a glass pendant. “Can I?” he asked as his hands brushed the knob of the music box.
I gave a nod, eager to hear it.
He spun the knob and not a click was heard. He spun it the other way and still nothing. “There's no resistance. No gears.”
“Just a second. I think I've seen one of these.” It was in a training video about drug busts, but still. I reached in and pulled the velvet up in one corner. Sure enough, there was a little bit sticking out just a tad too high. I pressed it and the top, where the music components would be held, snapped open.
Inside were folded-up papers. All of them with one word written on them. Xander
“What's going to happen if your boss gets these?” Leo asked.
“He’ll impound them.” I shut the lid. “I'll give him the rest of the stuff, so these don’t wind up as evidence.” Some days it was easier than others not to let the world know how much I hated my boss. But at the end of the day, I loved my job and made a difference, so it was a necessary evil.
“Didn’t we find these in the bedroom with her other things?” he asked with a wink.
“I think so, and there’s no reason anything from there would need to be in evidence.
Leo smiled. “Help me get these to Xander?”
“Absolutely.”
We tucked the box away where it wouldn’t be easily noticed, but also not hidden in a way that might draw suspicion. Then we called my boss.
So much for a hot pancake date with the new guy.
Seven
Leo
Five minutes after the sheriff showed up, I knew we’d made the right decision in keeping the jewelry box from him. He had already earned the name Sheriff Asshat in my head.
His first round of questions were about cash. “Find any money? Did you look for any liquid assets? I’m surprised none of the boxes held his rainy day funds.” As if the house shouted money. Quite the opposite. It shouted poverty and the value of the guns was the shocking bit.
I had no doubt in my mind that he would’ve taken that jewelry and found some way to add it to the precinct’s coffers. I’d seen a documentary on that kind of seizure, and given how small the town was, I connected those dots.
Then again, maybe I watched too much television. He was probably just a jerk on a power trip, looking at a big-deal case to earn him more praise from his followers.
In any case, he was a certifiable asshat.
“I'm sure this is nothing, but I guess we need to run it through,” he finally said. For a man who spent an hour asking weird leading questions, nothing didn’t sound quite right. “You know, just so I don't have the Feds up our asses.” He went on rambling and muttering about stupid laws and the government thinking they knew how to run things better than he did.
I just stood against the wall, hoping not to be noticed.
When I pictured today, I thought I would spend it trying not to jump Ron. And for the first part of the day, that was pretty accurate. He would look up from something he was doing and give this sweet little smile that had my heart aflutter. It was more than just the physical attraction, although...whoa, that was definitely there. But yeah, it was more. He had a kindness to him I rarely saw in people.
And I certainly never pictured the day including a trip from the sheriff to share the huge gun cache we found in the secret lair of a crazy man. But here we were, doing just that.
The only good things about the location of the guns was that the man hadn’t been able to easily access them. Not that I put much trust in his decision-making skills, but getting to them required going into the root cellar and up a hidden staircase and back down again.
My heart went out to the poor kid who had lived here. I hadn’t met him yet, but from what August, Jase, and Ron had said, and the way their faces all softened as they spoke of him, he was a pretty great kid.
I was looking forward to getting his mother’s things to him. It sucked that in a small town like this, there was no way he wouldn’t hear about the craziness that was his father—or the man he thought was his father. But that would probably be true in the city as well.
After loading the guns, the sheriff seemed to think of a thousand more questions he needed to ask me. For a minute, I thought he was going to accuse me of being the one to stash them. And really, if Ron hadn’t been with me when they were found, I had no doubt I’d have been handcuffed and in the back of his car already.
But if I was going to be handcuffed, there was only one officer I wanted to have that pleasure...and it would be in the bedroom.
He finally made a noise like he was going to leave. Thank goodness. Maybe Ron would agree to have those pancakes with me for dinner. Too bad I couldn’t use the kitchen yet. The thought of syrup led to so many possibilities, none of them appropriate to be thinking about in this situation.
He tapped on his clipboard. “Now about the camper… Whose is it?”
“It’s mine. I’m using it while I finish gutting the house.” It was less than ideal, at least until I got more water, but it worked.
Jase and August said I could use the shower at their house as needed, and bottled water was enough for most other things. It was better than driving all the way to a hotel in town at the end of the day.
He started writing as if I’d said something important. After making a scribbled mess, he tore off the paper and handed it to me.
“Thank you,” I said automatically, not looking at it immediately. My eyes were glued behind him to Ron. For some reason, his jaw had just dropped.
The sheriff grunted. “You better have that paid on time.”
Paid? On time? What was he talking about? How could I be fined for the guns? I just found them...and then I looked down at what I now knew to be a citation—a citation for the camper. What the fuck? “It’s temporary.”
He glared at my response.
And because I’m so brilliant, I kept going. “It's only here while I work on the house.”
“Doesn't matter.” He scolded like I was a child. “Can't be here. City Ordinance states that camping is only to be done in nonresidential zones and campers only by permit. We can’t have riff raff here, thinking they can do what they want.” He made it very clear I was said riff raff.
“Move it.” He snapped the clipboard to his side. “It needs to be undercover and uninhabited while stored on the property. Until such a time as you can prove that it fits the criteria for a residence, the town won’t be able to issue a permit to place it on this land. And don’t even bother trying until you have a plan for electricity a
nd water.”
“Yes, sir.” There was no point arguing with him. Not when he made his disdain for me so obvious. Apparently, he didn’t appreciate my audacity in discovering a crime.
I wasn't sure what I was going to do. A hotel room would be both expensive and a pain in the ass, adding time to my rebuild, since that was what this project was turning in to.
All I did know was that I didn't want to mess with him.
“I think we can get the board—” Ron tried to offer a solution but he was cut off with a hand.
I still appreciated his effort in making things better.
“I'll move it,” I reassured them both, not wanting Ron to deal with the fallout simply because he was helping me.
“Oh, you better.” The sheriff stared me down, trying to further intimidate me. “I'll be checking, and if I see it out here again and it's not covered or it's showing any signs of inhabitation, it’ll be impounded and this fine will look like peanuts.” He turned and stormed off, done with the conversation.
Ron looked appalled. “I'm sorry about that. I didn't know he was going to pull that shit. If I did, I’d have had us move it first.”
As if I would blame him for his asshole boss. I understood why they had the rule. No one wants people squatting on land, but that was hardly the case here. He could’ve let it go. He just didn’t want to. Asshat.
“Maybe you can help me find one of those rooms you were talking about?” I shrugged it off like it wasn’t making my blood boil. It wasn’t as if he had anything to do with it.
“You don't need to do that. You can stay at my place.” He made the offer like it was no big deal. “I’ve got plenty of room, and it's my fault he came here in the first place.” It definitely wasn’t. “I should’ve anticipated that shitstorm, so I kind of blame myself.”
“Is he always such an…”
“Dick? Yep. Always.”
“How do you work for him—day in and day out?” There was no way I could deal with someone like that on a regular basis.
“Because he's the only part of my job I don't like. I love the people in town. I love helping. I love serving.” He shrugged. “Really, the only thing I don't love is him, and in theory, come election day, he could be voted out.”
“What do you mean ‘in theory’?” Was small-town corruption a real thing? I needed to stop with the television, which would be easy given my current situation.
“Seeing as no one's actually ever run against him, the chances are slim.”
I never quite understood why sheriffs were elected officials, but then again, I grew up in a pride where the hierarchy was set in place. After that, I was in the city where we had police chiefs instead of sheriffs.
“How come you haven’t run?” I couldn’t imagine anyone who had met them both not wanting to vote for Ron.
“Because I’d like to keep my job. I don't want to run, lose, and end up not able to do what I love.”
“Are you sure about me staying with you? I promise it'll only be a couple days until I can figure all this out.” Maybe the permit thing wasn’t the huge obstacle he made it out to be.
“I'm sure, and it doesn't have to be a couple days. It’s about time I had a roommate. It gets kind of lonely.”
I understood that too well. At least I had my cat. It wasn’t quite the same, though. Sometimes you just wanted another person to talk to.
Mate.
Someone who wasn’t a bossy cat thinking they knew everything.
“In that case, I accept.” It would be a huge relief to have a place to stay with running water, and as long as I kept my hands to myself, I’d be fine. I should’ve answered Challenge Accepted because that was the only snafu in this entire plan.
“Oh, what about your cat? He hasn’t been around today.” He started looking around as if expecting to find a kitty hiding in a corner somewhere. “I hope he’s okay.”
Shit. I’d forgotten about my “pet” cat. “Oh, right…”
“Damn...you can't bring him to my place. I forgot about that.” He rubbed his chin. “My landlady has one rule and pets are it.”
“You know what? It's okay.” I took out my phone and dialed Jase, so glad we had met. He picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Jace. I was wondering if you could do me a huge favor.” I stepped away, pretending I was looking for a stronger signal, which wasn’t untrue either. This place didn’t do well with my provider.
“What’s up?”
“The sheriff said I can’t use my trailer anymore, so I was hoping you might be able to catsit for me.” The phone went silent and then I heard him relaying the story to August.
“August agrees on one condition. When you get here to drop him off, you have to tell us every last detail.” He was barely containing his laughter.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there after we move the trailer. Thanks.”
Ron helped me put a tarp over the camper then he went home to get cleaned up while I gathered the cat and dropped him off. He made sure to mention getting my pet fixed, not knowing he had already told me that and it was a hard no. But I couldn’t be upset by the suggestion. His heart was in the right place. That didn’t stop my balls from shrivelling up.
The laughter August had contained over the phone was definitely not contained once I pulled up their drive. They were cracking up before I got out of the car, and how they managed not to choke on their cookies as I told them about Ron being on a mission to have my cat neutered was beyond me.
“I’m glad you find this so funny.” I grabbed another cookie because if they were going to have such a good time listening to my story, they could pay me in sugar.
“It’s only funny because my mate was my pet first too.” August winked at Jase.
I scoffed and almost choked on my mouthful. “I never said he was my mate.”
“Don’t have to...your cat did.” August shrugged. “How are you even holding him in?”
Damn. They could see it. My cat could see it. And as much as I didn’t want to see it, I saw it too. “But he’s human.”
August just shook his head. As a human, he didn’t buy that lame excuse. “Try again.”
“You really think Ron, the human deputy, is my mate?” I spoke as much to them as to myself.
How was that even possible?
Eight
Ron
“What was I thinking?” I mumbled to myself on the way back to my place. First, I invited a complete stranger to move in with me. Granted, I was partially to blame for him needing a house in the first place. But then I threw my address at him and practically ran out of there, leaving him to find his cat and deal with him on his own.
If it had been anybody else, I’d have probably done the same thing, at least as far as offering a place to stay. But with Leo it was different. He was someone I had already tried to get on a date, someone I was trying to impress. Bringing him into my home had “bad decision” written all over it.
I pulled into my parking spot and sprinted toward the door. The house was clean enough but definitely not company ready. Plus, I stank. Ripping apart walls and going through moldy crap had a way of doing that.
I started with a shower, not feeling clean enough to do all the other things that needed doing. After getting washed up, I threw on some clothes and scrambled around the house, trying to make it look like I was neater than I was. Finally, I went to the spare bedroom and put new sheets on the bed. It had been a long time since anybody stayed in the room, and while the sheets were clean, they weren’t fresh and crisp.
I shouldn’t have been trying to impress the stranger-turned-friend. But I was doing exactly that. In a way, it was good. It kept me from focusing on the shitstorm that was Clarence's hidden armory. We all knew Clarence wasn’t an ideal parent, and I tried my best to look out for Xander when I could. But I’d also seen the broken system, the one that would have a social worker drive in from too far away and claim nothing was wrong so they wouldn’t have to make the trip again. In most cases, the scare was
enough to get parents on the right track. In Xander’s case, I had a feeling his life would’ve spiraled deeper into hell with any more overt intervention.
At the time, I understood grief played a part in the way he acted. I just didn’t understand how deep that went. But that didn’t explain his dive into conspiracy-theory, gun-hoarding territory. People lost spouses every day. It was awful, but it was a part of life. I couldn’t imagine the pain of going through a loss like that, but I liked to think I was strong enough to not have it mold me into some kind of psychopath.
Never had I thought the day would come that I felt bad for the man.
The guns, though—that had me nervous. There was no way he got them all legally...not in this state and with his finances. I hoped that when the serial numbers were run, a logical explanation of how he acquired them was as bright as a neon sign. The last thing this town needed was the Feds poking around and bringing negative attention to us. As it was, we still had daily calls about the factory that was potentially trying to set up shop. This would be four thousand times worse.
I took out the vacuum because the need to make the place as presentable as it could be was pushing at me. He was coming from a place we couldn’t dream of walking around barefoot in without a tetanus shot, and I wanted my already-clean carpets to be cleaner. I was clearly a wreck, but he deserved it.
Leo’s day had gone to shit.
I still didn’t understand what made Martin think he could just go in there and be an asshole like he owned the world. I mean, he did it because he could get away with it, obviously, but the reasoning for it perplexed me. Writing a ticket like that was just a dick move. Yeah, sure, it was technically the ordinance, but no one cared about a temporary RV on a guy’s personal property. They especially wouldn’t care in this instance. From the looks of things, we were lucky that place hadn’t gone up in flames long ago. Really, Leo was most likely saving the town’s volunteer fire department a bunch of risk.
Feline The Love: An M/M MPreg Shifter Romance (River’s Edge Shifters Book 2) Page 4
