20. Ledger #2
I lift a hand, stopping him because I don’t want to hear the words, and I definitely don’t want Shiloh to have to think about it. But according to the look on her face, she already is. “We’ll figure it out, but he is suspect number one. Finish writing it up and photographing and head out.”
Noah and Calder give me an odd expression, but don’t say a word, and finish their job.
Shiloh answers all of Calder’s questions, and when he’s done with the living room, I pick things up. It’s going to take a while to put everything right again, but I don’t really care. I’m just glad she’s okay.
But Grey has another thing coming if he thinks there won’t be retaliation. I might be the Sheriff and have to stay within the bounds of the law on this one, but I’m coming for him.
The guys head out, and Fletcher walks in, feet crunching on glass. He whistles and looks around.
“Who did you piss off this time, Sheriff?” he asks.
I narrow my eyes and finish putting the last of the unbroken dishes in the cabinet. For some reason, they didn’t look in the dishwasher, so I still have a few plates, bowls, and cups left.
“Is this why you ran out of the house like your ass was on fire?” Fletcher asks.
I nod, running a hand through my hair. “Shiloh got home, and she found this, and then she called me. I didn’t think. I just did. I was afraid someone was in the house.”
He nods solemnly. “Fair enough. I have the plywood. Let’s get you all boarded up. That window might be special order though. I doubt Bobby’s Hardware has it.”
I nod. “It’s fine. I wanted to replace them anyway. They’re original to the house, so I guess I’ll be doing that now.”
Fletcher claps my shoulder. “We’ll help you get them installed.”
“Thanks, brother.”
He hums and looks down the hall. “Is she okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, I think she’s shaken up. But she handled it like a champ.”
“Do you know who did this?” Fletcher asks.
“I have an idea.”
“One you’re willing to put money on?” he asks.
“No question.”
He pauses and looks me in the eye. “Should the family be concerned?” he asks.
I sigh, scratching my chin. I’ve been asking myself that question since I got here. Part of me doesn’t think he will take it that far. But that’s assuming I have all the facts. Hopefully, Will can bring us new information.
“I wouldn’t say concerned, but maybe keep your head on a swivel. I don’t know how far these people are willing to go,” I tell him.
“Alright, I’ll let everyone know.” He’s quiet for a minute. “Should we be concerned about you?”
“It’s part of the job, Fletch. I was bound to piss someone off eventually.”
He nods thoughtfully and saunters over to my broken window. He picks up the rock that was used to throw through it and holds it up. “I have a feeling you didn’t just piss off some teenagers because you confiscated their weed.”
“What gave it away?” I say deadpan.
“Should you be living here?” he asks.
Shiloh’s footsteps grab my attention, and she slows her stride, eyes flicking between me and Fletcher.
“I won’t let some punk ass run me off my land. Next time he wants to try it, he’ll meet the end of my shotgun.”
“Fair enough,” Fletcher says, dropping the subject.
He crosses the living room and holds his hand out to Shiloh. “I know we already know each other, Shiloh, but you’re married to my brother. If you need something, you let me know. Okay?”
She takes his hand and nods. “Thanks,” she says quietly, and slides her wide eyes to mine.
“We’re going to get the window boarded up. Did you get your things cleaned up?”
“Yeah, I’ll start on yours next,” she says, slowly trying to read Fletcher.
“You don’t have to do that,” I tell her.
“No, I want to.”
I kiss her forehead and follow Fletcher outside to his truck.
It doesn’t take us long to get the plywood up and screwed into my siding. It’s going to suck getting all of this fixed, but it is what it is.
When we’re done, I wave goodbye to my brother and hose off the front stoop. It wasn’t paint. It was blood, probably pig’s blood. I take a rag and get most of it off the front door. It’s going to stain the sidewalk though.
Heading back into the house. Things are picked up in the living room and kitchen.
She must have finished it for me. Going down the hall, I find her sliding my dresser drawers into their places and folding my clothes, putting them back into the wrong drawers, but I don’t correct her. I can fix it later.
“I think they pooped on the porch out back,” Shiloh whispers.
“Wonderful,” I mutter. I thought that’s what I smelled, but wasn’t sure.
Shiloh sets a t-shirt on top of another, looks up at me from the floor, and promptly bursts into tears.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” I say, rushing over to her and dropping onto the floor, gathering her into my arms. “Everything is going to be okay. It’s stuff. It can be replaced.”
“This is my fault. He got even with me by hurting you. I should never have done what I did, but… but he deserved so much worse,” she grits out, angry yet the tears still falling.
“I need to tell you something.”
Her brows scrunch together. “What?”
“I want to be clear: the only reason I’m telling you this is because your safety is my priority.”
She leans back from my shoulder. “Now you’re scaring me.”
“I’m not trying to, but if Grey had the balls to do this despite everything, then it’s safe to assume he could come after you somewhere else.”
“What are you trying to say?” she asks, quietly. Her body is stiff in my arms, and I don’t want her to feel this way, but she needs to be aware of the reality.
“I’m investigating his father, and Kensington Ranch as a whole.”
“Do you think he knows?” she asks.
“I hope not, but I think Grey is retaliating against us. We hurt his pride, especially since you’re here and we’re married.”
She purses her lips and looks away. “I’m pretty sure it was him. He left me a calling card,” she says.
Pushing some of her hair out of her face. “What do you mean?”
She huffs. “I don’t know if I should laugh or be even more concerned. But there’s a teddy bear on my bed. I forgot all about it. He won it for me at the fair when we were teens, and I kept it all these years, but I left it when I moved out.”
I don’t know why it bothers me; and it shouldn’t, but I don’t like the fact that they have a history.
It is what it is. No one can change it, but a bit of me wishes our history was more memorable other than seeing each other in town or arresting her for petty theft, vandalism, and bar fights. Maybe things would be different.
“So jealousy as a motive isn’t far-fetched,” I mutter.
“Probably not, but are you worried he’ll come back?” she asks.
“Worrying and being prepared are two different things,” I tell her, but what I don’t say is that I don’t know what to expect, and that makes me more nervous than anything else.
I hope and pray Will has something actionable because I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t. This is way too close to home.
We’re playing with fire, and someone is going to get burned. I’m doing everything in my power to make sure it’s Grey and the Kensingtons, and not my people.
Shiloh yawns, and I find myself doing the same. The adrenaline crash is real, and I’m sure she’s exhausted. “Alright, let’s get you to bed.” I pull her up, and she takes her hands from mine and hugs me, resting her cheek on my chest.
I wrap my arms around her, thankful that I can hold her.
“Come on,” I tell her, leading her to her room.
I pull the covers back and help her into bed. “Why are you doing this?” she asks.
“Doing what?”
“This,” she says, gesturing to her.
I frown. “I’m taking care of you.”
“I don’t need you to, Ledger,” she whispers.
I lean over, cupping her cheek with my hand. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t need me to Shy. The difference is I want to.”
She blinks at me and I expect her to say something sassy, but she doesn’t say a word.
“Goodnight,” I mumble and close her door behind me.