Chapter 18
eighteen
DREW
It’s been a long weekend. Over twenty-four hours away from Georgie is doing a number on me and I’m more than ready for this shift to end.
Except I’ve got another four hours to go.
I tried to talk her into breakfast this morning but she insisted I needed to sleep between shifts and I can’t argue with her on that. There’s nothing more dangerous than being tired on the job.
We’ve texted back and forth today. Nothing more than, hi, I’m thinking of you, how’s your day going , but it definitely made my day more bearable.
Although I’m currently frowning at her last message. I’d hoped to have a late dinner together, or at least dessert, but she’s claiming she’s tired and needs to be up early so she’s going to bed before my shift is even over.
Which makes me worry more because I’m off at eight. Surely she isn’t going to bed that early.
It’s hard to know if I’ve scared her off by asking her to come away with me—to meet my family. She seemed excited and agreed to go, but still…
Maybe she’s having second thoughts and doesn’t know how to tell me.
My radio comes to life and I wait. But nothing happens. This afternoon has been slow, with no calls coming from dispatch, and nothing of concern on the streets. Not that I’m sad about that. It’s great when a shift is uneventful.
The festival is in full swing today and the town is overrun with tourists, something I’m used to seeing this time of year. We’re barely two weeks into December and I’m already wishing for the New Year when Evergreen Lake returns to normal.
Pulling up near the festival gate, I let dispatch know I’m heading out on foot for a look around. It’s something we’ve been doing every day the festival is open.
We’re trying to show our presence to discourage anyone from doing something stupid. Especially after the vandalism of the Gingerbreads stand. Nothing else has happened and I’m sure that’s because people are starting to accept Noah’s presence.
It doesn’t hurt that the Emersons’ have been out in force to show their support. In fact, there have been a number of residents making sure it’s clear they welcome him and his attempt to get Gingerbreads reopened.
I hope the graffiti is the first and last we’ll see of that kind of harassment, but if not, there are enough people keeping an eye out now, that the perpetrator will find it harder to get away with whatever it is they plan.
“Deputy Westwood.”
“Hey, Dan, how’s it going?”
“Busy.” He surveys the people walking by on the sidewalk. “Does anyone have numbers on the visitors?”
“The Sheriff’s department doesn’t. Maybe the festival organizers.”
“Hmm… It would be interesting to know.”
“It would.”
“I bet numbers are more than triple what they were last year.”
“That seems like an accurate estimate.”
“Did you see Jingle Balls added another ball?” he asks.
“What? No. When did it go up?”
“Not sure. Sometime before Monday afternoon. It’s a cute one too.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, remember last summer when those teenagers helped that artist fella move his weird giraffe sculpture when the van he was driving broke down?”
I nod. It still amazes me that someone would pay big money for a pile of junk stuck together with duct tape.
“Well, this one is them with the giraffe sticking out the sunroof of their car.”
I shake my head. “It’s mind boggling they got it in the car in the first place.”
“I wondered about it too. Ended up asking. They put it in through the roof. Feet first.”
“That explains it. I’ll have to go see this latest addition for myself after I’ve done a walkthrough of the festival.” I glance at the pizza box in his hand. “Am I holding you up? Is that a delivery?”
“Nope. This is lunch.” He raises the box and pops the lid. “Want a slice?”
I stare at the ham and pineapple pizza and my stomach rumbles. And not in a pleasant way. “No, thanks. I had lunch already.”
He shrugs. “Your loss.”
I don’t tell him I wouldn’t eat a ham and pineapple pizza if it was the only food on earth. There’s just something wrong about fruit on a pizza. “Enjoy your lunch.”
He mumbles ‘thanks’ around a mouthful and I make a quick getaway before I gag. Pineapple on pizza is right alongside raw eggs.
Walking through the crowd, I have to wonder if Dan’s estimate is low. Today there’s little room to move in the aisle between stands. Good thing I’m not in a hurry.
I take my time. I’m only going to cruise around town when I finish. May as well stretch my legs and talk to people before I’m back on the road.
A few locals ask where Georgie is, and I remind them I’m on duty. A handful push for more information but I manage to divert the discussion in another direction each time.
One thing I notice is the number of locals who initiate conversations with me. Previously I’d be lucky to get a nod or a smile. Is the change due to my relationship with Georgie?
“Good to see you smiling, Deputy.”
I turn to find the gossip queens eyeing me. “Ah, afternoon, ladies.”
“Still keeping things close to your chest, I see,” Mildred says. “I’m glad. No one likes a guy who kisses and tells.”
It’s a good thing I like puzzles and working shit out. It’s one of the reasons I became a cop. I have yet to speak to Mildred without her words being cryptic. The woman knows how to talk in riddles.
When no one says anything else and silence gets awkward, I indicate the direction I was headed and say, “If you ladies will excuse me, I need to keep moving.”
“Checking everything is okay. I like that too,” Mildred shares. “Make sure to check on the tree. I hear there’s another ball on there and I wouldn’t be surprised if Dan steals the one of him.”
“I doubt he’ll take it before the end of the festival.”
“I don’t know about that. He’s always hanging around.”
I don’t want to get into who might or might not take one of Jingle Balls’ gifts so I say, “Well, you all enjoy the rest of your day,” to end the conversation.
I walk away to the hushed whispers of the three women and remind myself to tell Georgie about the new ball and that we could be making the rounds on the gossip train.
Cutting my walk short, I head back toward the cruiser. I’ll drive over to the square to take a look at the tree then head toward the train station, see how things are going. The Christmas train isn’t scheduled to run until next weekend, but they’ve been setting it up and testing things all month.
When I get to the street, I see a couple of guys going toe-to-toe and I wander their way, my eyes constantly moving to confirm it’s only two men involved in what appears to be an escalating argument.
“Problem, gentlemen?” I ask from a few feet away, hand on my hips to show them I’m armed.
“Yeah, there’s a problem. This fucker”—the blond stocky one hooks his thumb in the other guy’s direction—“hit my car.”
“I did not! You hit me and that piece of shit is covered in dents and scratches. You’re not blaming me for any of them.”
My gaze moves to where two trucks are parked at odd angles in a spot not quite big enough for two vehicles. Stepping to the side, I see why they both think their car was hit. The front vehicle’s tow-ball has made itself a resting place in the rear one’s bumper.
“Well, his car might be dented and scratched but there is no denying your truck and his have had a collision.” I nod to where the two vehicles are touching. “Although with the way you’re both positioned, it’s hard to determine who hit whom.”
“What? Bullshit! He reversed into me!” Blond guy yells.
“No. You drove into me!”
“Excuse me.”
I turn to find a young woman standing next to me. “Can I help you?”
“I can clear this up for you. They hit each other. That truck was reversing in and that one drove into the spot from behind him.”
“Ah, right. Thanks. Can I get your name and contact information in case these two decide to take things further?”
“Sure.”
After collecting the information, I send Sandra on her way and move back to the two still arguing men.
“All right, gentlemen, that’s enough.” I put a sharp edge on my words but don’t yell.
When I have their attention, I explain how this is going to go.
“Eyewitnesses have told me what happened and you’re both at fault. Considering the previous damage on the bumper, I think it best if you both cover your own costs.”
“What the fuck? No! He’s got no damage, he’s not going to pay anything.”
“I can see why you might think that but he’s going to have to get that tow ball looked at. The impact could have compromised the integrity of the towbar or ball mount and it would not be safe for him to tow anything before having it checked. And if it needs to be replaced, the cost would run twice as high as a new bumper.”
“For a tow ball?”
“As I said, it’s not just the ball that’s in question.”
“What the fuck ever.” The blond guy storms off, yanks open his driver’s door with a loud screech of metal hinges and jumps in.
“Thanks.”
I wait until the blond guy has reversed out of the spot and driven off before meeting the other man’s eyes. “Next time watch where you’re reversing.”
“I swear, one second he wasn’t there, the next he was.” He shakes his head. “I braked as soon as I saw him, but it was too late.”
“Just take more care. Things are busy in town with the festival.”
“Yeah, it’s why we’re here. The wife wanted to check it out. We’re staying at a house out by the lake.”
“Well, as I said, you should get that tow ball looked at before you tow anything.”
“I will. I’m not risking our hundred grand camper.”
“I wouldn’t either.”
“Is there somewhere in town I can take my truck?”
“You can try Chris over at Evergreen Auto. He might be able to help. If not, he’ll point you in the right direction.”
“Thanks. I’ll head there first thing in the morning.” He looks toward the festival. “Better go find the wife. Let her know I’m here.”
“I hope the rest of your day gets better.” I offer him my hand. “If you have any trouble with your insurance or the other guy, just come down to the station and ask for Deputy Westwood.”
“Will do.” He saunters off and I watch him until he disappears into the crowd.
Once he’s gone I scan the street to check the other man hasn’t returned. Satisfied the situation has been resolved, I head for my cruiser a second time. Maybe this time I’ll actually get behind the wheel and leave.
An hour and a half later I’ve checked out Jingle Balls’ latest addition and the area around the Christmas train station and I’m watching the clock tick down and hoping no calls come in before my shift ends.
Georgie isn’t answering my texts and I want to be sure she’s where she should be and that everything is okay before I go home.
Although I have a feeling I may end up in my truck outside her house. It wouldn’t be the first time and until I can convince her to move in with me, it won’t be the last.
Thankfully I make it back to the precinct and hand over to the night shift without incident and ten minutes later I’m pulling up in front of Georgie’s place.
The SUV in the driveway belongs to the tenant. I still don’t know much about the guy except he’s a single dad from Chicago. And the car isn’t going to get me anywhere even if I run the plates.
It’s a rental. No way am I getting client details out of a rental company without a warrant. And I have no reason to request one.
I don’t know what it is about this guy but my instincts are on high alert. I haven’t even laid eyes on him and I know he’s up to something.
Good or bad remains to be seen.
Grabbing my phone, I pull up Georgie’s contact and hit call.
It rings four times before a sleepily mumbled, “Hello,” comes across the line.
“Hey. Sorry, did I wake you? Just wanted to check you were okay and let you know I’m heading home.”
“I’m fine, Drew.” I hear her yawn. “And I’m glad you’re on the way home. I worry about you out there.”
“It was a quiet day. Nothing to worry about. Which is the usual for Evergreen Lake.”
Another yawn is muffled and I smile.
“I’ll let you get back to sleep. Talk to you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, okay. I’m on early tomorrow. Do you want to have dinner together?”
“I’ve got a six ’til four shift tomorrow.”
“Four? As in AM?”
“Yeah. Maybe I can stop by on your lunch break.”
“That would be perfect. Does twelve work?”
“It does.”
“Okay. I’ll see you then.”
She yawns again and even though I want to keep her on the line, to talk to her all night, hell, convince her to let me come inside, I know I have to let her go.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I love you is on the tip of my tongue but I swallow it back and instead say, “Sweet dreams.”
“You too. Night.”
There’s a click and she’s gone but I don’t drive away. I sit in my truck staring at her house. She’s not in there. She’s in a pokey little room without good insulation at the back of the garage because she needs to rent out the house to afford a new furnace.
I watch as the lights in the house go out and I have the strongest urge to knock on the door, tell this guy to take a hike so Georgie can move back into her home.
The home I want to share with her in the future.
If she’ll let me.