13. Atticus #3
Laughing softly, I lean against the doorjamb of Lemon’s room. “And what exactly are they going to arrest me for? Helping my fiancée pack? Being in the apartment my fiancée legally rents?”
“For being a drug-dealing thug. I bet there are dozens of outstanding warrants for your arrest. They’ll lock you up for years.”
“I’m sorry to ruin the fairy tale you’ve created in that crazy brain of yours, Avery, but I’ve never even had a speeding ticket.”
“You need to leave, you need to leave, you need to leave,” she starts to chant, her arms folded so tightly across her chest her fingers have started to go white. “Get out, get out, get out.”
“Avery, are you feeling okay?” Lemon asks softly, tentatively stepping out of her room, her eyes filled with apprehension as she approaches her roommate.
“You brought him here. You brought a criminal into our home. This is your fault. The cops will arrest you too. They’ll take you both away in handcuffs.”
“Maybe I should call her family?” Lemon whispers as I pull her protectively into my side.
“Do you have their contact details?”
“No, but I’ve heard her talk to her mom on the phone, so the number is likely in her cell.”
“I think it’s for the best if we just wait for the cops. They’ll contact her family,” I assure her.
Exhaling sadly, she rests her cheek against my chest, and we settle in to wait. The front door is still open when a uniformed cop arrives. “I’m Deputy Cunningham with the Rockhead Point Sheriff’s Department. We’ve had a report about a disturbance.”
“It’s them,” Avery shrieks, pointing a shaking finger at us. “I came home, and they were here. He’s a drug dealer, and she’s his accomplice.”
The deputy glances at Lemon and me, then back to Avery, his brow furrowing. “Could you tell me your name, please, ma’am?” he asks Avery.
“Why do you need my name to arrest them?” she asks.
“I’ll need some information for the report,” he says calmly.
“My name is Avery Becker. This is my apartment.”
“Okay,” Deputy Cunningham says, nodding politely to Avery before he turns his attention to us. “And your name, sir, miss?”
“I’m Atticus Hoffman, and this is my fiancée, Lemon Manning. Lemon lives here too. She’s on the lease. We were just packing her things because she’s moving in with me when Avery came home and…” I swing my arm in the direction of a pacing Avery and then gesture to the deputy.
“Hoffman…are you any relation to Tori?”
A slow smile spreads over my lips as I nod. “She’s my baby sister. My brother and I just moved to town.”
“My sister is Cora Barnett. She’s married to Huck Barnett. She’s good friends with your sister,” he says.
“I’ve heard a lot about the Barnetts, but I’ve only met Betty and Cody so far,” I tell him, while Avery audibly huffs.
“They’re good people. You’ll like them.” Nodding to me, he turns his attention back to Avery. “Okay, Miss Becker, if Miss Manning is your roommate and Mr. Hoffman is her fiancé, I’m unsure what exactly the issue is.”
“The issue is that he is a criminal and a drug dealer,” Avery spits, her face contorting into a venomous mask.
“A criminal and a drug dealer,” Deputy Cunningham says slowly. “And by what assertions have you come by these allegations?”
“Look at him!” she screams.
“Atticus, I have a feeling I already know the answer to this, but what is it that you do for a living?”
“I’m a tattoo artist,” I say, grinning widely.
“He’s on drugs. Test him,” Avery snarls.
“Happy to take any sobriety or drug test the sheriff’s department needs,” I say, agreeing happily.
“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Hoffman. Miss Becker, are you aware that wasting police time is a criminal offense?” Deputy Cunningham asks.
“Wasting police time?” Avery yells. “Arrest him, arrest him. Arrest them both. They’re criminals. Between them, they’re probably wanted in every state.”
“Miss Becker, have you consumed any alcohol today?” he asks.
“What? No.”
“Have you taken any drugs?”
“No,” she says, only her answer is slower.
“Miss Becker, perhaps you’d like to accompany me to the station, and I can take down some more details about your complaint,” Deputy Cunningham suggests, his tone softening.
“But what about them? They’ll get away,” she hisses, pointing at us.
“After you’ve given us some more details, if there has been a crime committed, I assure you we will find them and arrest them.”
“A crime? You should see her room. It’s a shrine to the devil and drugs. It’s chaos. That’s a crime right there,” Avery says, throwing her arm out in the direction of Lemon’s room.
“Okay, Miss Becker, why don’t you head on downstairs, and I’ll take some personal details from Mr. Hoffman and Miss Manning, and then we’ll go to the station, and you can make a formal complaint.”
“Fine,” Avery huffs, glaring at both Lemon and me before she flounces out of the apartment and out of sight.
No one speaks until she’s left, then Deputy Cunningham turns back to us with a sigh. “Miss Manning, have you been having issues with your roommate for long?”
“To be honest, I try to avoid her as much as possible,” Lemon admits sadly.
“How long have you been living together?”
“Almost two years.”
“From what Lemon has told me, her behavior has been escalating, but it was seeing me here the other day that tipped her over the edge. I don’t know her well enough to know if she’s on something or having a psychotic break, but I think it’s clear that she’s not behaving rationally,” I tell the deputy.
“I’ll have a word with her, and if necessary, we have an on-call doctor we can contact for cases like this. How long do you think it’s going to take to get the rest of your belongings packed up?” Deputy Cunningham asks.
“We can have everything cleared out in a couple of hours. There are only clothes and a few other bits that aren’t already boxed up,” I tell him.
“Okay, I’ll try to keep her away for the next two hours, but obviously, I can’t detain her without reason, and unfortunately, not liking your roommate’s boyfrie—”
“Fiancé,” I correct him.
“Not liking your roommate’s fiancé…” the deputy amends. “Isn’t a reason to arrest someone either.”
“We only have a little over two months left on our lease anyway, and once I’ve moved out, I doubt I’ll ever see her again. She only leaves the apartment to go to work, then comes straight home,” Lemon tells the deputy, her face a mask of sadness.
“Okay, well, try to get your things out as fast as you can, and I’ll keep an eye on Miss Becker. But if she does accuse you of anything actually illegal, I’ll have to investigate,” the deputy warns us.
“Unless sitting on the couch or having too many dresses is illegal, I’ve done nothing she can accuse me of,” Lemon says with a resigned sigh.
“I’m more than happy for you to look into my background, Deputy.
I only met Avery for the first time two days ago.
She judged me the moment she saw me and started calling me a criminal and a drug dealer.
We were here for less than half an hour, then left.
The second time was today when she called you guys.
You might want to check out her pupils, though, because they’re blown wide,” I tell him.
Sighing wearily, Deputy Cunningham rubs at his forehead. “Okay. Well, I’ll go and deal with Miss Becker. What’s your address? In case I need to speak to either of you.”
“We live in the old, converted warehouse on Elm. We just put in electric security gates. You can’t really miss us,” I tell him.
“Okay, well, thank you for your cooperation.”
“Thank you, Deputy Cunningham,” Lemon says sweetly.
Marcus arrives wheeling two huge suitcases just as the deputy leaves, and between us, we quickly pack up the last of Lemon’s belongings and load them into the van.
“Thanks, Marcus,” I tell him.
“Yes, thank you for your help,” Lemon says.
“Of course, it’s no problem. I’ll run this over to your place and start unloading. None of the furniture is coming?” he asks, glancing at the bed and dresser.
“No, the apartment came furnished, so I got rid of all of my old stuff before I moved in. I do have to go and tell the landlord that I’ve moved out though.”
“Do they live in the building?” I ask her.
“Yes, the apartment is owned by the family who lives on the top floor. We can head up there now before we leave.”
“Okay, I’ll see you back at the loft then,” Marcus says, waving, then heading toward the elevator.
We wait for the elevator to take Marcus downstairs, then ride it to the top floor. Unlike the floor where Lemon and Avery’s apartment is, this floor only has one apartment on it, and Lemon’s steps slow the moment we get closer to the door.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she says, sucking in a breath and knocking on the door.
It’s opened almost immediately by a prim-looking woman. “Can I help you?”
“Hello, Mrs. Acosta. I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m Lemon Manning. I rent apartment twenty-one.”
She thinks for a moment, then nods. “Apartment twenty-one, yes.”
“Our lease is due to end in a little over two months, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m moving out today and won’t be renewing my lease,” Lemon tells her.
“And your roommate?”
“I’m not sure what her plans are.”
“Okay. Well, at the end of the lease period, I’ll inspect the apartment, and assuming there’s no damage, I’ll return your security deposit. We do have one-bedroom apartments in the building available, if you’re looking for somewhere else.”
“She’s moving in with me,” I inform the older woman, who nods.
“We actually took some photos and videos of the condition of the apartment as we left it a few moments ago. Do you have an email we can send them over to? There are some concerns over Lemon’s roommate doing something to the property and then blaming Lemon, so we’d rather you have some record of its current condition. ”
“Yes, I have an email you can send those to, but I prefer to inspect the condition in person, so I can come down there now and check it over,” Mrs. Acosta offers.