Chapter 47
47
FIONA
“Aren’t mimosas supposed to be served in champagne flutes?” I asked.
Dottie set a plastic cup with ghosts and witches on it in front of me.
“The bigger the problems, the bigger the cup.”
I’d never been in Dottie’s house, but it was as expected. Neat as a pin. A mix of new pieces of furniture with some very vintage ones, like a blue plaid couch. A wood and stone rancher, it was set on a treed lot with stunning flower beds. I remembered Dottie said Mr. Dotson liked the plant nursery, so I assumed the yard was his domain.
Scooter had a dog bed in every room. The one in the kitchen was in front of a sliding door where the sun shone down on him. He was on his back, four paws in the air and snoring.
The place smelled like baked goods and lemon polish. It smelled like… a home.
“Can you adopt me?” I blurted. We were sitting at her kitchen table. Fall themed placemats were in front of the four chairs.
Dottie smiled, wistfully. “Oh honey, what a nice thing to say.”
“I’m not sure about Mr. Dotson, because I haven’t met him yet, but I’m sure he’s nice.”
“He’s playing pickle ball at the rec center.”
Pickle ball. Pickle, pickle, pickle. My life was in a pickle.
Ugh.
I never wanted to see, smell, or eat a pickle ever again.
“My life is a total mess.”
She slid the carton of orange juice and the opened champagne bottle closer. “We’re well stocked for you to tell me all about it.” With a tap to her upper lip, she added, “I think we need some chips.”
My mouth watered at the idea. “God, yes.”
She got up and grabbed them from the cabinet. Taking a clip off the opened bag of… yes! sour cream and onion ruffled chips, she angled it toward me.
I took one. Chewed, then shoved in another.
“I feel like all I do with you is talk about my problems and feelings. And eat.”
She laughed. “That’s what women do.”
“What? ”
“Blab. Share their feelings. Vent.”
“You’re easy to vent to,” I admitted.
“That’s because we’re friends.”
We’re friends. She liked me, weird quirks and all.
“Aren’t you sick of me saying the same things over and over?” I wondered.
She shook her head.
“Fine.” I sighed, shoved in another chip. “You asked for it. I don’t understand people.”
She cocked her head. “People in general or a specific man?”
“Both. I’m on leave at work because my boss is a jerk and my partner is a jerk, too.”
“Because of this time off, you came here to meet Hannah.”
I nodded. “I finally met her this morning. She’s amazing.” I left out that she was amazing because she was nice, but also because she could fucking teleport. I hadn’t seen her turn into a lady Hulk yet, but I was sure that was cool, too.
“She’s back?” Dottie seemed surprised. Perhaps I knew something that was going on in this town before she did.
I nodded, shoved in another chip. The tang from the chips along with the salt hit the spot.
“Dax asked them to come back early.”
“Why?”
I didn’t want to answer that question, because I didn’t think Dottie needed to know her beloved town had a drug problem .
I skipped to the crux of my day drinking and chip eating. “Dottie, Dax lied to me.”
She leaned back in her chair. “He did?”
I nodded. “He didn’t tell me about his job.”
“Which is?”
Right. I didn’t think she needed to know Dax was a fixer. “Repo work.”
One white eyebrow went up. “Dax is in repo? ”
“I know, right?”
“Did he lie and tell you he was a doctor or something?”
I shook my head. “No. It’s just… he… he sometimes has to do illegal things to do his job.”
Awareness lit her eyes. “And as an FBI agent, you enforce the law.”
I threw my hand up. “Exactly.”
The mimosa was washing down the salty chips surprisingly well.
“Honey, sometimes good people do bad things to do the right thing.”
I frowned.
“You told me about your father. What he did. You went to college and then into the FBI with the single-minded focus to put him in jail. Would you have done some bad things if needed to make sure that happened?”
“Definitely,” I said, before thinking.
“I bet you can think of other times you did the wrong thing for the right reason.”
I probably shouldn’t have sent the Highcliffs into the pickle shop knowing the guys working there were shady just so I could snoop. I probably shouldn’t have tossed Neidermeyer under the bus with Trotter, but he was an asshole and deserved it. I probably shouldn’t have blackmailed Trotter, but it came down to him or me.
Oh. OH.
Dax had said as much when we were in Hannah’s office, but I didn’t get it then. We’d talked about it for probably five whole minutes, and it hadn’t sunk in. For some reason, I got it now.
Maybe I’d been okay with putting all of them in bad situations because I didn’t like Trotter and Neidermeyer and my father. Even the Highcliffs. But I liked Dax. Adding him into the mix of people doing the wrong thing for the right reason and it made a lot more sense.
What he did affected me.
I hurt because of it. I felt betrayed.
“Do you think Dax is a bad person?”
I shook my head. I didn’t have to think on the answer. He’d wanted to protect me from the start, from the kid who robbed the convenience store all the way through to when I snooped in the back room of the pickle shop.
He’d hugged me. Held me. Took my hand. He gave me the attention and touch I’d craved.
He made me feel .
“No.”
“That’s right. Because you wouldn’t be here eating chips and drinking mimosas if you didn’t care for him. Love hurts.”
I whipped my head her way. “Love? ”
She smiled and patted my hand. “I haven’t seen a couple love each other as much as you two do in a long time.”
I bit my lip. “Dax said he loved me.”
Her eyes lit up and she practically clapped her hands in glee. “That must’ve been so romantic!”
“He didn’t tell me, I overheard it.”
“Oh.”
“I have really good hearing.”
“Do you love him?”
“I’m black and white, Dottie. He’s shades of gray.” I put bad guys away. He helped bad guys get away.
“Do you love him?” She asked, making it seem so simple. A yes or a no.
“I don’t know what love is.”
She smiled, but a little wistfully. “It’s feeling like crap when you’re not with him.”
I frowned. “That doesn’t sound fun. I don’t want to keep feeling like crap.”
“Then you need to go to him.”
“He’ll yell at me.” He liked to do that. “He’s so bossy.”
“I’m sure you’ll yell at him, too.”
I did like to do that, especially when he deserved it.
“You’re pretty bossy yourself. But after you work it out…” She winked.
I felt my cheeks heat at her insinuation of makeup sex. “Dottie!”
“How about this? If one person in a relationship is black and white and the other is shades of gray, imagine how much you can do together? Work together instead of apart.”
“I work for the FBI,” I reminded. It wasn’t like I could pick a boyfriend to be my partner.
“Do you want to?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you were single minded about joining the FBI for a specific reason. Your father. You accomplished what you set out to do, but is it what you really want to do?”
“I hate my job,” I announced, which came as a surprise as much to me as to Dottie.
The thought of going back, of finding out Trotter hadn’t transferred or that Neidermeyer somehow kept his job made the chips turn to sawdust in my mouth.
“Then get a new one.” She said it as if it was so simple.
“Doing what? Law enforcement’s all I know.”
She shrugged, then winked. “I have an in at the Coal Springs police department.”
“Move here?” My eyes widened.
“I’d love it if you stuck around.”
“Really?” Really?
“Of course. You’re an amazing pumpkin painter.”