7. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Evan
A ll I have been able to think about is the coffee I had with Calista yesterday. She is so easy to talk to, but then I had to go and make it awkward with that hug. Not to mention that everyone in town talked about it all day, to the point Cody even texted me to ask what was going on. When I told him about her doing Skye's hair and the coffee as a thank you, he blew it off.
It's too bad the rest of the town can't do that. Judy kept asking me questions like she was interrogating a suspect, waiting to see if my answers changed. They didn't. Even Maggie had heard about it by the time I picked Skye up from her house yesterday and thought it was so sweet of her to meet Skye and help out.
“Hey man, I saw that new commercial with Skye's mom in it,” my co-worker Rick says.
Rick is older than me by a few years. Even though he is milking the desk job like no one’s business, he is one of the best people to investigate using the internet. He can dig and find things that are instrumental in solving cases.
“Yeah, but we don't keep up with any of her appearances. But you know that,” I remind him.
When Skye's mom walked away from her, I cut her from our lives all the way. The town knows what happened and keeps up with her little career, but we haven't even seen a single commercial. Skye has zero interest in doing so, and when she does, then that’s a bridge I will cross.
“It's been seven years, and this commercial is the biggest gig with the most lines she's gotten. I'd say karma is taking care of her,” Rick says before he walks off.
Brittney had dreams of being a movie star, and she surely thought she'd be a household name seven years later. All she has been able to land is a handful of commercials, but she has left us alone, and that's all I want and am happy about it.
“Is there anything new on that drug case?” I ask Judy, who tends to hear things before they are even official.
“We might get some info on it later today. But I want to talk about the BBQ cook-off. You are entering, right?” Whiskey River is like all small towns, and we have a bunch of festivals and events to draw people in and make the town some money. The BBQ Competition is one that has been around for a long time.
While it does have a contest, that is a small part of the event. There will be craft booths, sales tables, and an entire section of tasting booths from about any business within a fifty-mile radius. All the stores participate offering special foods or sales for the event. There are decorations on Main Street, posters are up, and ads on the radio. It's a big affair and a moneymaker for everyone.
Every year since she was three, Skye and I have entered the competition with my dad's recipe. It's been more of a fun thing for us to do together. I didn't care much about winning or losing, but two years ago, we won third place. Then, last year, the police station sponsored our booth, and we won second.
Since the station is sponsoring us again, I'm not sure I have a choice whether to enter or not. But how could I possibly say no? In addition, we will be selling my bottled BBQ sauce. The station will vote on which charity any prize money will go to, and from the flurry around the station, nominations are rolling in.
“Of course. Skye is looking forward to it, maybe more than I am,” I say.
“Well, this year, you have a bigger kitchen to work with, but if you need help, you let me know. I am happy to rally the troops,” she says, walking off.
This year there will be more competition than ever before. It just keeps getting bigger. Since Cody and his brothers have the distillery open, they are using one of their whiskeys to make a BBQ sauce. If they place in the competition, they have bragging rights and can use it to help sell the sauce at their retail store and restaurant they are planning on opening.
I want them to place, and I want to raise money for charity. Regardless of whether we place or not, people will be buying our BBQ, and hopefully, our sauce. But it's more important for Cody to actually get in the top three.
Since I'm waiting for information from another cop on this drug case, I have some downtime. Normally, I'd clean out my email or catch up with Cody. Today, though, I'm reaching for my phone and find myself texting Calista.
Me: I wanted to thank you again for doing Skye's hair. She got many compliments.
I send it thinking I won't hear anything back right away, if at all. We aren't friends that text like this, but something in me wants to have that little thread of connection with her. I’m starting to clean out my email when my phone goes off. When I realize it's from her, I almost drop it on the floor.
Calista: I'm so glad she liked it. You know, I'm always happy to help. It seems like such a small thing, but it's a big deal when they are that young. Believe me, I remember.
Me: Well, she has named you her personal hair stylist from here on out, so be ready. The school picture circuit is more than just the yearbook photo nowadays.
Calista: Oh yeah?
Me: Yes, they have the yearbook photo, parents' photos for purchase, a class photo, a photo of the entire grade, plus photos for each activity, and all are shot on different days.
Calista: That sounds like pictures are a big event. Well, I am happy to meet her and do her hair for each photo. But you should look up some video tutorials and learn to do some yourself. There are some really easy ones out there.
Me: We have tried. I promise I'm hopeless. I can't even get a ponytail done right. Your mom has tried to teach me many times and has called me a lost cause.
Calista: Oh, it must be true because Mom is the authority on all things’ hair.
Even through the text, I can hear her sarcasm, and it makes me smile.
“Who has you smiling like a love-struck teenager?” Rick asks walking by my desk again.
“No one. Mind your business,” I tell him, but I don't even bother wiping the smile off my face.
“Well, when you are done, there is something in here you will want to see,” he says, setting a folder in front of me.
When I nod, he leaves, but I turn back to my phone.
Me: In this case, I think it's true. I will let Skye know you volunteered to do her hair on the next picture day.
Calista: Good. We'll have to pick out something ahead of time. Then, she and I will talk over family dinner.
Me: Sounds like a plan. She will be excited. But I have to get back to work.
Calista: Be safe.
Me: Always am.
Something about her wanting me to be safe warms my heart. I know it's probably more for her brother's benefit than hers, but either way, I like it.
I put my phone away and grab the folder Rick set down.
Flipping it open, I start reading some reports related to my drug case here in town. It looks like after some surveillance, we finally got an address on where they are buying the drugs. Why does this address look familiar? I can't put my finger on it, so I pull the address up on my computer, and when I see the street view, it hits me.
The address is so familiar because it's Calista's best friend's house. That can't be right. I know Kaylee isn't selling drugs.
Right?
There is always a buzz when the warrant comes in and you are putting the wheels in motion to do a raid. We do it maybe once or twice a year, and it's a big event that the entire station gets in on. Normally, I feel prepared, but this time, my gut is churning.
I can't put my finger on it, but I get a feeling this isn't going to go smoothly. Though I don't share my thoughts with anyone. I might just be feeling out of sorts because I don't know what to expect, and with it being Kaylee's place, it's personal. We know this is the time to catch them. The deals have been happening at this place twice a week, between ten in the morning and two in the afternoon like clockwork for over a month now.
Another reason for my gut feeling is how do I break this to Calista if Kaylee is involved in any way? As of now, I have no have no proof that she is, and I hope she isn't, but this is her place, so there is still a possibility.
“Alright, let's roll. You all know your jobs,” Chief Barton says.
Only a few guys are hanging back at the station to take on anything that comes up that can't be put off for a few hours. Judy and the other assistants are staying as well. Otherwise, the rest of us get our vests on and head out to our vehicles one by one, random formation. We are all going different ways there, so we won’t draw attention to anyone who is on their way there too.
After we all partnered up, Rick is at my side. I like him, but he isn't one to fill the silence with chit-chat, so we both concentrate on the task at hand on our way over to the house.
“Alright, months of paperwork leading up to this. Let's shut it down,” he says as we park at the big empty lot down the road we are using as a meeting spot and wait for orders to enter.
Everything is done by the book. We move in and cover all the exits and then a group of us, me included, head up to the door. My job is to go in, get the evidence, while at the same time, having the mens’ backs who are going to bust in.
There are two cars in the driveway. Kaylee's and her ex's. I thought they broke up, at least according to the intel we have aka the Whiskey River gossip tree, but they could have gotten back together. Only I know that isn't true when we get up to the door, and I can hear them screaming. We pause for just a moment to listen.
“We broke up, so you don't get to come and go from my house at will anymore, Calvin,” Kaylee yells.
“I said I just came to get the rest of my stuff. Lord, what is your problem? Aren't you supposed to be at work?” Calvin says, and I'm pretty sure he rolled his eyes with that one, judging by the tone of his voice.
“I told you I burned that shit. And I came home because I wasn't feeling good. Not that it matters, it's my house! I took your key. How the fuck did you even get in?”
“I made a copy and kept it at my place after I thought I lost my keys. What is the big deal?”
“The big deal is we broke up, and I come home to find you in my house. This is breaking and entering and burglary, since none of this is yours anymore. I'm calling the cops!”
“The fuck you are!” he yells.
That’s when the Chief gives the signal, and the guys burst through the door. Both Calvin and Kaylee scream because neither was expecting us. Kaylee freezes and puts her hands up, fear evident on her face. The anger from a moment ago, long gone.
Calvin, on the other hand, tries to make a run for it out the back door. One of the guys gets Kaylee in handcuffs and out the front door while we go after Calvin. A few of the other men clear the rest of the house.
Calvin didn't plan well. The back door leads out to a covered porch and a fenced-in backyard, where we have men stationed and ready for him. He tries to dodge them, but when he makes a hard turn to the right, he runs right into Rick and me. As we tackle him to the ground, he fights hard. It's clear he’s on something because he's strong for a skinny guy who plays video games all day. He slips from Rick's grasp, and his arms flail. When he flips over, I use my body to hold him down while Rick and another guy get him in the handcuffs.
The next thing I know, a gunshot goes off, and people are screaming, but it sounds far away. Then pain erupts all over my body, and my vision closes in. I can't move my hands or feet, and then everything goes black.