Chapter Nine – While You Still Can
Chapter Nine
Cooper
WHILE YOU STILL CAN
Performed by Brothers Osborne
Dad and I hung the case board back onto the wall, and he stepped away to look at it, hands on his hips.
He’d lost weight over the summer, and it left him looking like some sallow, alternate version of the father I’d always known.
With his white hair and beard, twinkling blue eyes, large frame, and round belly, he’d been the perfect person to play the stereotypical Santa during the holidays.
Add in his calm and easy-going manner, and he’d been a staple of the holiday parade and Santa booths during the month of December.
If he played the part this year, they were going to have to pad his jacket.
His heart attack in June had scared all of us.
Even though he was almost seventy-one, he’d never seemed old to me before now.
His hair had gone white in his forties, but he’d been fit and strong, mucking stalls and slinging hay on our five-acre farm right alongside my equally strong and fit mother—right up until the day he’d fallen to his knees mid-shovel, and Mom had called 9-1-1.
When I’d shown up at the hospital with Luca in tow, the sight of Dad hooked to the machines, pale and weak, had thrown my world for a loop.
Living in LA, I hadn’t seen my parents as much as I would have liked, but Dad had still been a constant.
A sounding board and a friend as much as a father.
He’d been the first one to tell me that a failed marriage was a small price to pay if it meant giving my son a chance at stability.
My marriage had been a lost cause almost from the beginning. It was hard to try to fix things when your wife was never happy unless she had at least four people around her, fawning and kissing her ass.
“I should have done this a long time ago,” Dad said, referring to the board and pulling me back from what could easily have become a pity spiral. “It’s a better use of the space than a wall of useless pictures.”
I picked up one of the frames from the box we’d piled them in. It was Dad on a fishing trip outside Monterey with a group of men.
“Who are these people anyway?” I asked. “I don’t remember you bringing any of them around.”
Dad took the frame, pointing to the men.
“That’s Dick Langley. He was sheriff up in Clover Lake for twenty years before he went full-on political.
He’s a California state senator now. Bill Westlake…
he was the sheriff in Tulare County for sixteen years before he had a heart attack and died on the operating table.
Jimmy Hensen…he was sheriff up in Humboldt County for…
I don’t rightly know. They convinced me to take that trip with them, hoping they could butter me into taking a board position with the Sheriff’s Association, but I wasn’t interested.
Dick was never my favorite person, and he’d turned the entire group into a good ol’ boys club with hints of racism and misogyny that most of us were actively working to counter. ”
I snorted. “Like any of that would go over well with you.”
“I’m white. About as white as you can get, and I guess they thought that meant I’d buy into their load of crap.”
I shook my head.
Dad put the frame in the box, crossed his arms, and looked back at the board. He moved over to shut the office door we’d left open as we’d carted a couple boxes of his things out to the truck.
“How’s Cleaver doing?”
Once Cleaver had tentatively agreed to going undercover, Dad had helped us hash out the details of the plan. No one knew the people of Swift Rivers better than my father, and it had been his idea to use the wedding to stage my firing him.
“He’s only dropped me a couple of messages. Randy’s clearly skeptical, as we all expected. But just like you thought, he’s also gotten a kick out of rubbing Cleaver’s fall from grace in his face.”
We stared at the board again.
“I’m worried it isn’t going to be fast enough. We had another OD last week,” I said.
“Little Jenny Roth. I heard. She made it though.”
“These kids don’t even know what they’re taking, Dad.
” Fury rolled through me, simmering and brewing, along with a hint of fear.
Jenny was only a year older than Luca. She was in high school, but each OD had been with younger and younger kids.
And my son was already at risk. What would happen if they offered this messed-up drug to him?
As if knowing exactly where my mind had gone, Dad asked, “How’s Luca? I haven’t heard of any new escapades. Does that mean he’s finally settling in?”
“Locking up his skateboard in the armory motivated him when nothing else did,” I said, nodding to the skateboard I’d retrieved earlier in order to take it home to him.
“He hasn’t skipped class in nearly four weeks and has been doing more chores than I’ve asked.
Plus, he’s taken the initiative to help at the neighbor’s place to pay for the window he broke. ”
Andie sure as hell had never returned my messages trying to arrange things on my son’s behalf, but they’d figured it out on their own.
While I was happy Luca had stepped up, it still burned that she hadn’t called me back.
After the night of the wedding, I hadn’t pushed because being around Andie was too… tempting.
Dad raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure it’s no hardship for him to be spending time there.”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
Dad chuckled. “You and I were both teenage boys, Coop. We know exactly what it’s like to be staring at a beautiful woman at thirteen.”
Visions of Andie in that burnt-orange dress she’d worn to the wedding were still carved into my brain.
What Dad didn’t realize was Andie’s beauty would never do a single thing for my son.
But since Luca hadn’t come out officially to anyone other than me, my father was in the dark.
I hoped Luca would feel comfortable telling his grandparents soon, but our move had likely put the discussion on hold for a while.
Small towns could be difficult places for anyone in the queer community to feel safe, but the truth was, it wasn’t easy no matter where you lived. My LAPD partner had struggled with homophobia every single fucking day as a cop.
“He made it four weeks, so I’m taking the board back tonight. And I let him go straight home instead of coming to the station for the first time in a month. He’s actually trick-or-treating tonight. The friend he made at school talked him into it.”
“Which kid is this?” Dad asked.
“Wysteria Munoz,” I said, trying not to cringe at the name. I wasn’t sure what the hell people were thinking, naming their kids after flowers and moons and seasons.
Dad thought for a minute. “Nahomy’s girl. That woman has done a damn good job taking over the property management aspect of the Smythe business after Carter’s stupidity. Her daughter has blue hair, doesn’t she?”
I nodded. Wysteria seemed like a good kid.
Not shy in the least. In fact, the first time she’d walked into the station with Luca, she’d been irate, going off on some kid who’d called her a very rude name.
Luca had looked at her with a bit of awe.
Not in a romantic way, but as if he’d found his new idol.
Wysteria wore a uniform of torn black jeans, T-shirts with political statements masked in everyday phrases, and the largest set of platform boots I’d seen outside a movie set. She didn’t carry a skateboard around with her like Luca, but she always had a guitar flung over her shoulder.
“Trick-or-treating, huh?” Dad said with a raised brow.
“Luca has been ‘too old’ for it since he hit the fifth grade. Kids in Eden’s neighborhood didn’t really trick-or-treat, so he refused even when he was staying with me. If Wysteria can get my son to actually be a kid again, I’ll do whatever is possible to encourage it.”
“Plenty of shops downtown will have baskets out for the trick-or-treaters, and you’ve got a good neighborhood. You going to trail them or give him some space to make his moves?” Dad asked with a grin.
“If I thought there’d be moves made, I’d trail them, but he’s earned a teeny, tiny bit of freedom. Let’s see what he does with it.”
Dad picked up the box of picture frames, looked at the crime board one more time, and then headed for the door. “Cleaver will pull through. Keep your ears pressed to the ground, and I will too. We’ll nail the sons-of-bitches for good.”
“I’ll nail them. You’ll go help Mom with the horses.”
“After Christmas, we’re hitting the road. Hitching up the trailer and taking off for at least three months.”
My eyebrows hit my hairline. “What?”
Dad smiled. “Yep. Gotta travel before we can’t anymore. Need to see the states first, maybe head down to Mexico and Latin America after.”
“You need Luca and me to take care of the animals?”
“Nope. You’ve got the job I need you to do right here.” He tapped his knuckles on the doorframe. “We’ve lined up Chuck Acosta to live in the apartment over the garage and manage things while we’re gone. We’ll be back in time to cut the alfalfa.”
“Chuck? The kid who runs excursions out at the Harrington Ranch?” I asked, picturing a kid with dark hair and wiry build.
“Same. He’s young, but he has a good head on his shoulders and is as loyal as it comes. Plus, he’s not really a kid. Hell, I think he’s almost finished with college.”
I glanced at the time, grabbed Luca’s board and my coat, shut the lights off, and walked out with my father.
Suzanne was at the desk, but she was winding down for the night too. Things might get dicey tonight with it being Halloween, but Deering would man the switchboard when he came in, and we were all on call, if needed.
“Night, Sheriffs,” Suzanne said as we made our way out.
We both waved, jogging down the three steps in the back of the building in unison.
“She’s sweet on you,” Dad said, trying to hide a smile.
“Not interested.”
“You interested in your neighbor?”
My feet jerked to a stop. “What?”