Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
“Jesus.” I pull my chair out as I look down at the mounds of files on my desk. It’s going to be one of those days. My coffee is nearly finished, and sadly, the sludge in the breakroom is too damn nasty to drink. There’s strong coffee, and then there’s coffee that puts hair on your chest. Indigestion is not an additive I’m ready to throw into the work week. I take a seat in my chair, power on my computer, and start sifting through what’s on my desk. It’s not like me to leave my work unattended, but seeing as how I met up with my brothers after work, figuring I’d be at the station the next day, I didn’t bother taking any files home. Now, I’m going to be glued to this fucking place for however long it takes, stuck with shitty-ass coffee.
“Wild,” Chief Taylor says my name just as I’m about to start working through the mountain of a mess on my desk.
“Chief Taylor.” We might have all come to know each other through the years, but one thing you don’t fuck around with is addressing him correctly or messing with his daughter. Since I can smell Delilah lingering on my clothes, I’d say I’m well and truly fucked if he moves any closer or asks me to come to his office.
“Someone’s getting canned,” Wyatt jokes like he’s got room to talk.
“The only person who’s going to get canned is you, Brewer.” Taylor makes his way toward our desk.
“And with that, I’m outta here.” He stands up like the flames of hell are licking at his heels. Wyatt has had a few fender benders since he’s taken the job here. Nothing major, and none were his fault, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t take a beating for it either.
“Later,” I say. Taylor nods and walks closer to my desk.
I figure it’s do or die, so to speak. Chief Taylor, much like the rest of us, can sniff a liar out a mile away. The mannerisms in which people portray themselves, the lack of eye contact, crossing your arms over your chest, fidgeting, and a slew of other tells give us a clear indicator. Which is why I’ve got to be on my A-game. There’s no way I’m ready for the confrontation and the ass kicking I’m sure to receive for sniffing around his daughter. I keep my limbs loose, my eyes focused, and wait for him to cut to the chase.
“You doing okay?” Christ. Now I feel like the asshole of all assholes. Here I am, worrying about him knowing about me and his daughter, and he’s asking about me.
“Yeah, a lot better. Sorry about that.” He knows I take time off every year on their anniversary to be by myself. This year, it hit harder. My parents being gone for twenty years, the memorial being donated in their name after the property was bought out from underneath them, it was the perfect fucking storm, and it hit me right at the worst possible time.
“Nothing to be sorry about, Fletch. They were damn good people, didn’t deserve what happened to them, and you boys didn’t either. Plus, I think we all know you could leave for a month without worrying about touching all your accrued paid time off.”
“I don’t think taking a month off would be a good idea. There’s only so many planes a man can jump out of or places to explore until he’s ready to be home.” Long weekend trips are the key for me to refuel. Of course, now I’m thinking about taking Delilah with me and what she’d think about some of my explorations. One thing is for sure: I wouldn’t mind taking her somewhere tropical, a place that has a waterfall, and seeing her in nothing but a bathing suit.
“Probably not, but you take whatever time you need. Though, I can’t say your cases would be too happy about the lack of your presence.” He gestures toward the stack.
“Yeah, I’d definitely say so.” The cases I’m working on aren’t anything that demanded attention, mostly follow-ups, court dates, and filing of paperwork. Someone would pitch in if it was dire, or I’d have had Wyatt bring them out to me.
“Well, I’m off. I’ve got a meeting. Glad you’re back.” Taylor claps me on my shoulder before he heads toward Susan. The routine is as follows: he makes sure everyone has what they need, tells Susan where he’s going and when he expects he’ll be back. The man is a creature of habit. It’s a good thing we live in a small town with not a lot of crime, or he’d be prime picking for someone on the wrong side of the law.
Chapter 7
Delilah
“Done.” The last of my work is completed for the day, and it’s still early in the afternoon. Even though I started later than usual, after I walked Fletch out to his truck and said goodbye, watching as he drove off until all I saw were his taillights. Afterwards, it was time for me to get dressed, clean up his place a little, and then head home. I didn’t have to make his bed, clean up our dishes, or pick up the discarded item off the floors. In fact, he didn’t ask, but I wanted to do something for him, and it’s not like it took me a whole lot of time either. Once everything was done, I locked his front door with my key and headed home in yesterday’s clothes. The good thing with this apartment is the attached garage. No one had to see me do the walk of shame. I’m not ashamed, though, so the joke would be on whoever felt the need to run their mouth. Sure, it’d be fun to explain to my mother and father. Still, it’s not a big deal. Even if the conversation went a little something like this.