6. Ledger
Ledger
When I walk into the station the next morning, Daisy has an odd look on her face and Luke is grinning widely.
I stop in my tracks, looking between them. “Look, if both of you are a thing, that’s fine, but not in the office, okay?”
“What?” Daisy shrieks.
“Boss, no, that’s…” Luke trails off.
“Okay, then what’s with the weird looks? Spit it out.”
Daisy smiles widely and covers her mouth as she giggles.
“Okay, I’ll tell him,” Luke says.
“Tell me what?” I say gruffly.
“Sam got a call last night at Grey Kensington’s place.”
I frown because if it’s what I think then it’s clearly not a laughing matter.
Luke chuckles and shakes his head. “It’s not what you think. No, uh, he called in for vandalism to his house and truck.”
“Explain,” I grunt.
He grins. “I don’t know how she did it, or maybe she paid someone to do it.
But she spray painted that six-point buck the whole town knows about because he wouldn’t shut up about it.
He threw all of his TV dinners in the sink and let them thaw.
And she…” he stops talking because he’s laughing too hard to speak.
“I wish I did this one myself, in fact I’ll have to do it to Will but, she put snappers under his toilet seat and scared the crap out of him, he’s claiming physical assault because it scared him so bad he fell face first into the wall and has a nice knot on his head.
But also the man was drunk as a skunk. I’m not sure if that’s everything, but regardless, there’s no proof she did anything.
He’s assuming it was Shiloh Sullivan. Sam told Grey we’d ask the neighbors if they saw anything, but there’s not much he can do,” Luke says.
I smile shaking my head. “You know what, Daisy? I’ll take my patrol early and go question the neighbors.”
She smiles. “You got it.”
“Luke, do you want to come?” I ask him.
He grins widely. “I thought you’d never ask,” he says, sliding his gun into the holster.
When I pull up to Grey’s house, Shiloh’s handiwork is front and center on the truck with four flat tires. I whistle at the sight.
“That’s going to cost him,” Luke says.
“He deserves to pay much more,” I mumble.
“Alright, let’s go ask some neighbors some questions.”
Luke heads to the house right next door, and I go back to Ms. Maise’s. Something tells me if anyone saw anything, it would be her.
I knock on the door and she answers with a smile on her face.
“Sheriff,” she says.
I tip my hat. “Ms. Maise.”
“I’m here to gather information regarding the vandalism that occurred across the street. Mr. Kensington claims it happened last night. Did you see anything?” I ask her.
She takes a sip of coffee and shakes her head. “No, sir, I didn’t see a thing. It’s a shame though, whoever did it, did a number on that precious truck of his.”
I glance across the street. “That they did.”
“Give me a call if you think of anything.”
She smiles and lifts her cup to me as if in a cheers. “Not a problem. Not a problem at all.”
I head back down the stairs and move on to the other neighbors, then meet back up with Luke.
“I’m assuming you got the same answer I did. No one saw or heard anything. Surprising, isn’t it?” Luke says with a grin.
“Yeah, it really is.”
Before we get back into the truck, Grey comes stumbling out of his house, face beat red and anger in his eyes.
“Hey! Sheriff! Did you arrest her? I want to press charges!” Grey yells so the entire street can hear him.
I glance at Luke, and he shrugs. Fine, I’ll play along.
“Officer Sam took down your information and is aware you would like to press charges, but the question is, against whom?” I ask him.
His face scrunches up like a toddler throwing a fit. “Shiloh Sullivan!” he yells and stomps his foot.
I pull out my notepad and pen, pretending I’m about to take down information. “Okay, and do you have any proof that Ms. Sullivan did any of this? Do you have video cameras?” I ask him.
“No.”
“Hm, well, we questioned your neighbors and no one saw or heard anything. So if you don’t have any proof that Ms. Sullivan did this to your property, we’ll put it down that you’d like to press charges, but there’s not much we can do,” I tell him.
He huffs and crosses his arms.
Technically, there’s a lot we can do, and it wouldn’t be hard to bust the case wide open, but I don’t have the time nor the inclination to waste precious resources on something he had coming. No one was hurt by her actions. All of this can be replaced in one form or another. It’s a waste of time.
“You know she did it. They all do too!” he yells gesturing across the street. “Do your job and go get her!” he yells.
I lift my hand and take a step toward him. “I’m going to stop you right there, Kensington. I know what you did, too. So think long and hard about the next words about to come out of your mouth because if you want to go there, we can go there. Do you understand?” I ask him cooly.
His mouth gapes like a fish until he snaps it closed and sneers.
“Good, we’ll keep you updated on the progress of our investigation. Thank you for your patience,” I say, heading to the driver's side.
Luke shuts his door, and I turn on the truck. “We’re not actually going to investigate this, right?” he asks.
I glance at him and keep my eyes on the road. “Of course we are. But you know how the wheels of justice turn.”
Luke huffs and settles into his seat. “Yeah, slowly.”
“Plus, we’re spread thin. These kinds of things take time.”
Luke hums and I smile to myself.
Good for you, Shiloh.
I hope she doesn’t come back because if he catches her; I have a feeling it will be a very different story.
I had to stay late again to finish more paperwork for the Kensington surveillance. The only officers at the station are the ones on duty for the night.
“Call me if you need me,” I say, waving to Buck.
Usually the days are long and I’m tired, but not this level of exhaustion.
The whole day my mind kept going back to Shiloh and her own form of vengeance.
Based on the time of day Grey claims it happened, I’m sure most people were home from work and could have seen or heard what she was doing, but no one said a thing.
I found it funny, but I also saw the look on Grey’s face.
Would she try something again?
I’m amazed she had the strength to do anything.
I don’t know Shiloh well, but I knew her from school. She strikes me as the type of woman if you wrong her, she will make you rue the day.
But something in my gut tells me to take a drive down Grey’s street. He’s a powder keg. All he needs is a little spark, and she’s a walking stick of dynamite.
Summer is coming to a close, and every day fall creeps closer, which means winter does too. When it gets like this, they always need extra hands on the ranch. So I’ll likely be pulling doubles to get things done and the ranch ready for winter.
The ranch will always be my life, and my goal is to have a house our property, and I finally started that process, but it won’t happen overnight. Luckily, I have no reason to be in a hurry. What I have now works for me. I live so close to the station I can walk, and all I do is work.
It’s about ten at night when I pull onto Grey’s street. It’s dark. The sun has long set, and it’s quiet. People are tucking in for the night. Quiet can mean one of two things: either because nothing is going on, or quiet because something is about to happen. My gut tells me it’s the latter.
I drive slowly past Grey’s house. His truck is there, of course, but I’m not sure he is.
Stopping in front of the house, I can see through the front window into what looks like a living room from here.
Pressing my foot on the gas, I inch a little further and spot him sitting on his couch, probably watching TV.
Giving the truck more gas, I keep driving and loop back around, parking a few houses down from his. My gut instincts have always been spot on, and I’m not about to start questioning them now.
I park one house down and settle in.
Then I hear a bang, like a gun went off.
I don’t think twice before jumping out of my truck and running to the home. I knock on the door and announce myself before barging into Grey’s place, weapon drawn.
He’s screaming on the floor, and Shiloh is sobbing, pushing a towel on his arm. I spot a revolver behind her, and kick the gun out of the way.
“Please, please help him. I … I was just getting my stuff and —”
“The hell you were! You were coming to kill me!” Grey yells.
I holster my gun. “Shiloh, please stand over there.” She nods, doing what I said, shaking and crying with blood all over her hands.
Inspecting Grey, I squat down and lift the dish towel. She shot him through the arm. He’ll live. I place the towel back on his arm and he holds it to the wound.
“Hey call backup or whatever. She shot me!” Grey yells.
Ignoring him, but keeping him in my sights, I look at Shiloh. “Tell me what happened, and quickly.”
If anyone else heard that gunshot, we have maybe two more minutes before more people are here, and this goes from real bad to — I can’t protect her in prison.
“I was coming to get my stuff. I didn’t know he was home. The lights were off. I still had a key. We got into an argument, he uh…” She sniffles and takes a breath, staring at her bloody hands.
“No, she didn’t! She walked in and pointed the gun right at me!” Grey yells.
Still focused on Shiloh, I lift my boot and press lightly on the bullet wound. He howls in pain. “I was not talking to you,” I say sternly.
“He hit me, so I pulled the gun to protect myself. Then he tried to take it from me, and I swear I didn’t mean to do it. The gun went off and there was … there was blood everywhere —” She sobs into her hands, sliding down the wall, and I look at Grey.
I don’t know why I do it.
This could mean the end of my career.
Possibly even prison time.
But this asshole deserves a lot worse than a through and through bullet in the arm.
“Where is your phone?” I ask Grey.
He points to the kitchen and I use a dish towel to pick it up.
“Shiloh, do you have your things?” I ask her.