Chapter 27
Clem
This is fucking bullshit.
A twenty-four-hour hospital hold for a bump on the head. I’ve had worse goose eggs hitting my head on the hoods of vehicles I was working on.
Apparently, I was teetering on my feet. Or at least that’s what Tessa claimed as we were walking through the junkyard to get to the vehicles.
I should never have mentioned how I was taken down, because she immediately insisted I ride with her.
Of course, that ended up leaving my truck sitting in front of the junkyard—which I wasn’t too pleased about—but she assured me it would be safe.
Then, after she’d had to wake me up a few times on our way back to Silence, she ended up driving me straight to the hospital to get checked out. That was yesterday, and I’m still here, stuck for at least another couple of hours, until this damn doctor clears me to go home.
I’m fine, I just have a bump and a bit of a headache, but I blame that on being kept against my will. It’s Monday, I should be at the shop, replacing the ignition cylinder on one of Battaglia Security’s vehicles, but instead I’m in here, having to trust Manuel to run the shop without me.
Already Kyle lost a couple of hours of work this morning, driving back to Kettle Falls with Tessa to pick up my damn truck. She just called, letting me know Kyle, my truck, and the keys were all back at the firehouse, and she’d come and pick me up when I’m ready to be released.
She also mentioned the feds had brought in an entire forensics team, and they were still at the junkyard, working and collecting evidence.
Apparently, the white Chrysler 3000—that used to belong to Mrs. Dixon—was found in a low-slung building on the west side of the property, along with a couple of luxury vehicles, presumably stolen.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact Wally Shirk, that crusty old man I always thought was hiding a soft core, turned out to be as hard and bitter as his exterior suggests.
Let alone a willing participant in his newly discovered youngest son’s diabolical scheme.
Possibly blinded by the dream of a better life when the old man had fully expected to live out his life rocking his rusty chair on a dilapidated porch for what remained of his days on this earth.
The clicking of nails on the vinyl floor has me turn my head to the door, just in time to see Mouse’s ugly mug poking around the corner. It’s followed by a grinning Linc and a much more subdued Remi.
“What the hell—” is all I manage to get out before Mouse takes a flying leap onto the bed, landing hard on my stomach, knocking the air out of me.
“Easy, girl,” Linc admonishes her.
Tessa had promised she’d pick up the dog from the firehouse and take him home with her, so I’m not surprised she’s with the boys, but I am wondering what the hell they’re all doing here.
While I try to regain my breath, my dog sprawls on top of me, her head down on my chest and her long tongue scraping the scruff along my jaw. My hand instinctively strokes her back, which is when I discover the vest she’s wearing. In large white letters, it says SERVICE DOG on the side.
“What is this?”
“That’s how we got her in here,” Linc proudly informs me.
“But she’s not a service dog,” I point out.
“You know that, we know that…” He cocks his thumb over his shoulder and grins. “…But they don’t know that.”
“Whose idea was this?”
“Remi’s.”
I turn from Linc to his brother, who seems to be hovering closer to the door. The poor kid still looks shell-shocked after yesterday’s experience.
“Aren’t you the smart-ass,” I tell him, earning a little shit-eating grin from the kid. “What gave you the idea?”
He shrugs. “Mouse missed you. Every so often she’d go to the front door and cry. I figured this was the only way we could get her to come see you.”
“Where’d you get the vest?”
He looks at me from under his eyebrows, a bit of a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
“Mabel. You’re the one who told me The General Store was the place to go when no one else has what you’re looking for. She had one, but she wouldn’t give it to me until I spilled what I was planning to do with it. I told her, and she handed it over, no charge.”
I chuckle at the kid’s attempt to draw me into the circle of responsibility, and at Mabel’s complicity.
“And how did you get sucked into this?” I aim at Linc.
“Well, Mom made me go to school today, but classes ended early, and I had nothing planned,” he responds with a shrug. “These two were getting all squirrelly being cooped up inside, and I was up for an adventure.” He grins wide. “It was worth it.”
I should probably at least pretend to take them to task for this little stunt, but I’m enjoying it too much to care.
“How long do you have to be in here?” Remi asks.
“Hopefully not much longer. I’m waiting for the doctor to come by and tell me I’m good to go.”
That happens half an hour later when he catches the boys and Mouse still lounging in my room, where we’ve been talking cars.
To his credit, he doesn’t even mention the dog, just gives her a long, hard stare.
He does a quick exam and declares me fit to go, but suggests I don’t drive for at least another twenty-four hours and take it easy for a couple more days.
We’ll see about that, but I’m not going to argue, or else he’ll make me stay longer.
I leave Mouse in the bed and duck into the small bathroom to get out of this ridiculous gown and into my own clothes.
When I walk back out, a nurse is in the room with my discharge papers, eyeing Mouse who has rolled onto her back in my bed, legs sticking up in the air.
She shoots me a stern look, wordlessly hands me my papers, and leaves the room.
“I should give your mom a call,” I announce. “She was gonna pick me up.”
“Why? We can give you a ride,” Linc offers.
A few minutes later I’m sitting in the passenger seat of the kid’s Wrangler, Mouse’s hot breath in my ear as I try to give Tessa a heads-up via text.
Your boys are busting me out and taking me home.
As Linc turns a corner, I notice a soft grinding sound coming from the engine. I listen for it again the next turn he makes.
“When’s the last time this thing had a tire rotation?” I ask Linc.
“I dunno. I haven’t had it that long. Not since I got it.” He turns his head to look at me. “Why?”
“Because your wheel bearings should get checked with a tire rotation, and I think you have a damaged one on your passenger side front wheel.”
“See?” Remi surges forward, sticking his head between the two front seats. “I told you.”
“Well, I can’t hear anything,” Linc returns defensively.
“That’s because you’re not sitting in the passenger seat, you dunce.”
“We’ve gotta get that fixed right away, kid,” I interject before these guys go at it. “Or that wheel could seize up or even fall off. You can’t drive like this, it’s dangerous. Why don’t you head straight for the firehouse.”
“You’re not serious, are you?”
“As a heart attack, kid,” I confirm.
Just then my phone pings with a text message.
***
Look forward to an explanation when I get there.
Tessa
“I hear you’ve had some excitement?”
I look up to find Savvy walking toward the front desk, carrying that little nugget of hers. My arms instinctively reach out for the baby. Luckily, Savvy isn’t too greedy and easily hands him over.
“Well, hello, handsome little man. Aren’t you a little young for bring-your-kid-to-work day?” I coo at the baby.
His eyes are open, but at only two months old, he doesn’t have a whole lot to say yet.
“We had to get out. The walls are closing in on me.”
“I remember those days. How is life with an infant?”
She shrugs as she rounds the desk, wheels over another desk chair, and takes a seat.
“Quiet. I mean, I feel like I’m feeding him nonstop, and I have a load of laundry every day, but other than eating, sleeping, and pooping up a storm, he’s pretty low maintenance. I’m worried it won’t last though,” she shares.
I grin because, chances are, she’s right.
“That’s probably a safe bet,” I warn her.
“Linc was a holy terror. Colicky, underweight, spit up a ton, wouldn’t sleep unless he was skin to skin, and look at him now; a laid-back giant.
Then there was Remi, who was like Magnus, a dream child, until he started walking and talking.
My God, that boy has given me some gray hairs. ”
“About that…” Savvy segues. “We were over at Hugo and Bess’s place last night for dinner and heard about that showdown at the junkyard.”
Yeah, last night was a small reprieve when I wasn’t called into the office right away for some kind of reprimand and left to deal with Clem and my son, who was badly shaken by the entire ordeal, but I knew I’d be called on the carpet this morning.
I took it. First the stern reprimand from Hugo and assignment to desk duty for an unidentified period of time. I wasn’t happy about it, but I deserved it.
After that I got a harsh talking to by Mancuso, who was in town to speak with Mrs. Dixon himself to get the information she provided in an official report.
He was still spitting fire I almost derailed his case and told me, in no uncertain terms, not to come anywhere near the remainder of this investigation.
If I were in his shoes, I’d be incensed as well.
My main concern was getting to my son, who was in danger, but Mancuso has to worry about justice for all the victims, and the only way he can do that is to build as airtight of a case as possible, by following proper procedure.
So I took his tongue-lashing too and promised to steer clear of anything to do with his case.
Even though I know Savvy’s heard Hugo’s version, I tell her the sequence of events from my perspective.
“I’d do it again. Without a single regret,” I confess.
She chuckles and nods. “As recently as three months ago, I probably wouldn’t have understood that as well as I do now. When it comes to our kids, all bets are off.”
“Exactly.”