CHAPTER 8
The muscles in my neck spasm, pulled impossibly tight. My nails dig deep into my palms. Though I long to open my mouth, to try and relieve some of the tension in my jaw, I don’t dare. Because if I release my tongue from where it’s clamped between my teeth, I’m definitely going to say something.
And it’s not going to be nice.
I turn toward my car, overwhelmed with guilt that the poor raccoon is still trapped in the carrier in my back seat. Even with the air conditioner running, it can’t be too comfortable in there. I need to hurry up and get it home.
Which is exactly what I told Sheriff Kingston almost an hour ago when he arrived. But instead of being one of the first that he interviewed, it appears he’s saving me for one of the last.
I take deep breaths, telling myself that they’re supposed to be calming, but they’re not. I don’t see how anything could be under the circumstances short of a coma, which is probably what it would take to block out the deep-seated anger stirred within me by my present company.
Anger that’s been harboring inside me for over two decades now. Anger that begs to be unleashed. I clench my molars together a little harder and promise myself this will all be over soon.
“Where do you think you’re going? Not trying to sneak off after creating such a huge mess, are you?”
I spin back around. Lock eyes with the man before me wishing, not for the first time, that I could tell him what I think of him. But I can’t.
Although being exposed to Sheriff Kingston’s delightful personality twice in less than twenty-four hours is a bitter pillow to try and swallow, here in the small town of Gator Glade, he’s in charge.
Since he could make my life even more difficult if he wanted to, which is the last thing I need, I’m forced to play nice.
“No,” I say. “Like I told you earlier, I have a rescue in my car. I was just looking to see how many witnesses you had left to speak with.”
“That’s none of your concern. It’s my job, not yours.”
I force a smile.
“The last thing I need is for you to muddy up the waters before I get to the bottom of this.”
Considering that the sheriff’s investigative abilities are so poor I doubt he’d be able to find his own hand in a glove, I have zero hope that the man who robbed the pharmacy will ever be brought to justice.
“You’re lucky that you’re not facing charges.”
My mouth drops open. “For what?”
“Reckless endangerment.”
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack. I don’t know what it was that you think you were doing back there, but you’re lucky you didn’t get any of those people hurt. You’re not a cowboy. If you think I’m going to just stand by and let you turn my town into the wild west, you’re mistaken. And another thing—”
“Cassidy, honey.”
Mr. Johnson hobbles over. Gives me a wobbly smile as his gnarled fingers wrap around my arm.
“I wanted to make sure to catch you before you left. I can’t thank you enough for coming to my rescue the way you did. It took a lot of courage, intervening like that. I don’t think many people would have had the nerve. There was something crazed in that boy’s eyes.”
He shudders, then turns to Kingston.
“You should offer this young lady a job, Sheriff.”
The sheriff and I exchange wary looks, both of us horrified by the thought of working together. Sensing the friction between us, the pharmacist’s smile falters.
“You come see me before you leave, dear. I’ll get you something for that bruise of yours.”
“Thank you, Mr. Johnson. I appreciate the offer, but that isn’t necessary. I need to hurry up and get home. I have an injured raccoon in my car that I need to get back to the sanctuary.”
“Well, if it gives you any trouble, you come back and see me. I’ll take good care of you.”
He gives my arm a gentle squeeze before releasing me.
“We’re all glad you came back home, honey. Butch would be so proud of you. There’s no telling what would have happened if you hadn’t been here.”
I watch him shuffle off, feeling misty-eyed and choked with emotion.
“Don’t you let what he said go to your head now. You got lucky back there.”
“I know.”
“You—” Kingston’s head pulls back, his chin tucking into his neck. He blinks at me, obviously surprised that I agreed with him.
I take another one of those deep, not-so-calming breaths, and say, “Believe it or not, Lyle, I don’t go looking for trouble.”
“I don’t know what you expect when you go waving your gun around like that.”
Shaking my head, I sigh. “I didn’t intend to get involved, but I couldn’t stand by while Mr. Johnson got manhandled. I only drew my weapon after the man struck me and started aiming at customers. The threat escalated. I had no choice.”
“Well, that may be true,” he admits grudgingly. “But if you plan to stay in my town, I expect you to toe the line, you hear me? No more of these showoff stunts of yours. I don’t want to see you again for a good long while.”
“Believe me, I’m going to try my best to make that happen.”
“Ugh. That already looks bad. Bet it’s not going to be pretty in the morning.”
Recognizing the voice, my shoulders rise beneath my ears. I close my eyes, praying that if I do, he’ll disappear and I won’t have to deal with him on top of everything else.
“You should really put some makeup on, try to cover that mess up.”
No such luck.
“Whatcha doing here, son?”
My skin bristles as my high school boyfriend says, “I heard that Cass here was involved in some trouble. Figured I’d pop over and see if it was true.”
As I watch, Sheriff Kingston claps a heavy hand onto his son’s back.
Seeing them standing side by side, it’s everything I can do not to launch an attack.
A simple mistake I made when I was fifteen—dating the wrong boy—turned into a decision that would haunt me for years, until I managed to escape to college.
Even then, I let the fear of these men, the sheriff’s power and by proxy, his son’s, keep me away from my home for two decades. I missed so much because of them. Being a part of my grandfather’s life. The sanctuary. Jake.
“How about you and me grab a few drinks, Cass? Let me get you feeling better?”
Kingston looks between me and his son. Matt, with his leering grin. Me, my simmering rage no doubt evident on my face to anyone not blinded by an enormously overinflated ego.
“That’s never going to happen,” I say.
“It could.”
Some things never change. Matt still doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.
“Trust me. It won’t.”
Kingston’s jaw clenches so hard that I hear the joint pop. “Matt—”
Matt shoves a hand in his father’s face, cutting him off with a blatant show of disrespect. Frankly, I’m amazed that the sheriff puts up with it. But that doesn’t mean I have to.
“We’re done here,” I say to them both. Holding the sheriff’s gaze, I say, “I’m going home.”
“Why don’t I join you?” Matt offers.
“You’re not welcome on my property.”
“What, is that some rule that Jake guy’s trying to make for you?”
“No, it’s a rule that I’m making for you. In front of the sheriff.” Turning toward the man, I hold his gaze and say, “I’ve told him before, I’m telling you now. If he shows up again, I’ll be pressing charges for trespassing.”
Lyle returns my look for a long moment before giving a curt nod. On this, at least, we’re on the same page. He doesn’t want his son around me any more than I do. No matter what I’ve accomplished in my life, to him, I’ll always be swamp scum.
“Noted.”
I can’t help smirking as I listen to them argue as I walk away. With any luck, that’s one less problem to worry about. It’s just too bad that there are so many other—deadlier—ones waiting.