Chapter 21
Gray’s efforts to escape the store before the romance book club arrived had been in vain. At the last minute he had to take
Dog out back to relieve himself.
He did his best to avoid townspeople in general, but crowds in particular. There were newcomers who didn’t know him, of course,
but the old-timers seemed to have long memories and short fuses.
The dog seemed more interested in sniffing each bush than actually doing any business. “Hurry up already.”
The backyard had changed over the past eleven years. The basic layout was the same: a grassy area set in the U-shaped space
between the brick buildings flanking the shop. But now shrubbery and colorful perennials graced the periphery. A fire flickered
in a center pit and white lights twinkled overhead. The cozy space and fall weather made the perfect setting for a book group.
A clatter of laughter and chatter sounded just before the first readers arrived. He braced himself for rejection. But when
the three sets of eyes fell on Dog, squeals of delight followed as the women gathered around the mutt like he was the best
thing this side of heaven. They were friendly, asking him questions about Dog. Gray tried to talk them into adopting him,
but they all had excuses.
Even so, they did their best to get Gray to stay for the book club, at which they would be discussing a rom-com. It was nice to find a little acceptance. Sometimes people could be kind—even people in Grandville apparently.
Shelby, who’d entered the yard at some point, just looked on with an amused grin as he tried to extricate himself from the
friendly group.
Ten minutes later night was falling when he finally freed himself and made his way to his SUV. He was about to be late for
supper with Patrick at Davey’s BBQ, a casual spot on the edge of town with outdoor seating.
He scowled down at the dog. “You’re a big flirt. And I don’t think you had to pee at all.”
Dog glanced up at him, grinning, that tongue lolling from the side of his mouth.
It had been exactly two weeks since he’d found the animal, and so far no takers. He’d stopped to see Patrick yesterday at
his office, and the man had exhausted all of his options. But he had suggested dinner. It might be nice to have a friend while
he was in town. It was easy to trust someone like Patrick, who’d also experienced his share of bullying back in the day. He
seemed to have risen above all that.
Gray opened the door and let Dog inside. Even he could admit he was tired of calling him that. It was starting to feel like
an insult. But he’d never dreamed the animal would be in his care for two weeks. Recently Shelby had begun calling him Shadow
because he followed Gray everywhere he went.
He started the SUV, pulled from the slot, and merged onto Main Street. “All right, Shadow, let’s head to supper.”
The dog let out a bark as if approving of his new name.
“Yeah, don’t get excited—this is still temporary.” But even a stray dog deserved a real name.
Cars belonging to Friday night diners and barhoppers filled the street parking spots.
Farther ahead a crowd gathered on the manicured town green in camp chairs and blankets facing a giant movie screen.
He remembered Movies on the Green. During their senior year he and Shelby had watched some chick flick that had her all cuddly on the ride back to her house.
He shook the thought away as he stopped for pedestrians. Then the crosswalk cleared and he moved on, passing the last streetlight
in town before heading into the residential area beyond it.
It had been a long two weeks, implementing changes, rearranging shelving. The shop was more attractive already—even Shelby
had admitted it—and their new inventory was selling well. Even better, Shelby seemed to have lit up since his apology.
It was difficult to maintain a distance when they worked so closely together. When they were laboring toward the same goal.
He wanted so badly to see their efforts pay off. He hoped the advice he’d given her would turn things around. The biggest
test would come on Black Friday and following when—
A chirp sounded behind him. He glanced in the rearview mirror. The red and blue flash of police lights turned his stomach
to lead. He wasn’t speeding. He eased off the gas and moved to the side, hoping the cruiser would go around.
No such luck.
Gray pulled into the emergency lane and brought his SUV to a stop. He lowered his window and withdrew his license and registration—already
on top of the pile from his recent ticket. Which he’d already paid.
A moment later Mason Remington—surprise, surprise—appeared at his window. Still had that same stony expression and perpetual
frown. “License and registration.”
He handed them over. “Mind telling me what this is about?”
Mason seemed in no hurry to reply. He took his time looking over Gray’s ID even though he’d seen it only two weeks ago. “Wait here.”
As if he had a choice. Remington was bound and determined to punish him for existing. No, not for existing, but for having
the nerve to show his face in Grandville. What was his problem—him and all the others?
Okay, so his dad had killed Mason’s uncle, but it was unintentional and he was serving his time. Of course some believed his
dad had committed first-degree murder and that he should be serving a sentence twice the length he’d been given.
But none of that was Gray’s fault.
It had started as an argument between Troy Remington and Dad at Dirty Harry’s over a stupid game of pool. According to spectators,
the disagreement escalated into a fistfight at which point both men had been tossed.
Only his drunk dad served as a living witness to what had happened on the porch of the establishment. He claimed Troy came
after him once again and he punched the guy, who then fell and hit his head on the railing—a fatal blow. An accident, according
to his dad.
But matters were complicated by the men’s history, which included a woman who’d recently dumped his dad for Troy. Her testimony
put Dad’s motives in question. But the jury decided Dad was guilty of only second-degree murder.
And the townspeople seemed to take great pleasure in taking it out on Gray. The stolen-test scandal his senior year hadn’t
helped matters much either.
He pulled in a deep breath, held it to the count of five, and let it go. He wished everyone could just put the past behind
them. But it wouldn’t be that easy. He’d have to lay low through the end of the year. Of course, that was what he’d been attempting
tonight, and look where that got him.
Well, he hadn’t done anything illegal. Remington just delighted in giving him a hard time.
The sounds of tread on gravel alerted Gray to the officer’s return. He shone a flashlight into Gray’s face. “Where are you
coming from tonight?”
He faced the windshield to avoid the blinding light. “Work.”
“Oh, you work here now, do you?”
“I came from the bookshop. Why’d you pull me over? I wasn’t speeding.”
“The one that belongs to Shelby Thatcher?”
It was the only one in town. “Yes.”
“The one you were supposed to help her with for two weeks?”
“The very one.” It was impossible to keep the sarcasm from his tone.
“And yet here you still are a month later. I wonder what could be keeping you here.”
“Is there a question in there somewhere?”
“Here’s a question for you: How much have you had to drink tonight?”
Gray pinned him with a look. “I haven’t had any alcohol.” He never drank. When your dad needed beer more than oxygen, you
tended to avoid the stuff. “I haven’t broken any laws. You had no right to pull me over.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. You crossed the center line a ways back. You were weaving. And now you’re acting belligerent,
so I’m going to have you step outside the vehicle.”
“I didn’t cross the center line, and if I’m belligerent it’s because you pulled me over without reason.”
Remington puffed up his barrel chest. “Are you refusing to exit the vehicle then?”
Gray gritted his teeth. If he refused, Remington would no doubt take great pleasure in removing him from the vehicle. Gray
opened the door and stepped out.
Shadow barked.
“It’s all right, boy.”
Mason directed him toward the front of the SUV where his headlights formed two cones of light. Cars passed by and Gray tried
not to think about who might be inside them or what rumors they might start.
Doesn’t matter. You don’t even live here anymore.
“We’ll be doing a field sobriety test. I need you to walk heel to toe on this line for nine steps, turn on one foot, and return
for nine steps.”
Gray had already begun the test, blood surging through his veins. The man had no right to use his badge to intimidate citizens.
“We both know this has nothing to do with alcohol.” When he finished the nine steps, he turned on one foot.
Remington was a hulking silhouette in the headlights. “Seemed a little shaky on that turn, Briggs.”
Gray started back toward the SUV. “Your eyes need to be checked.”
“And you need to pack your bags and get out of town.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Oh, let’s just call it a friendly little tip. I’m nice that way.”
He could mention his stay was temporary. But he didn’t owe this guy an explanation. “I have as much right to be here as anyone
else.”
“You’re right, Briggs. It’s a free country. And if you think moving back here is in your best interest, you’re welcome to
do so.”
Why did he get the feeling that Remington would make sure it wasn’t? Not that Gray would ever consider moving back to this
hellhole. But the rumor mill must be saying otherwise if Remington was going to this much trouble. Eight. Nine. He stopped a foot from Remington, staring into those beady little eyes.
The officer shone his flashlight into Gray’s face and held up a pen. “Keeping your head still, follow the pen with your eyes.”
Should he request a Breathalyzer? Those could be inaccurate, but not as biased as this officer. Gray gritted his teeth but did as he was told. He’d just get these stupid tests out of the way and then Remington would let him go.
The officer moved the pen to the side at a glacial pace. Back to the center. Then to the other side. After a long moment he
lowered the pen but kept the flashlight on Gray’s face as he lifted his lips in a smirk. “Grayson Briggs, you’re under arrest
for driving under the influence.”