Page 39 of Halo

She steps closer, crossing her arms. “What the heck are you doing here, Crawford? And what did you do to piss off Darrell?”

I glance over to the cop. “I take it you’re Darrell?”

A sardonic smile crawls across his face. “You know this clown, Mrs. Santiago?”

“Unfortunately,” she says, boredom in her tone that melts into a laugh. “He’s a good friend of Julian’s.”

“And yours!” I finish, but they ignore me entirely, continuing their conversation as though I’m not currently being frisked against a wall.

“How is Mr. Santiago?”

“He’s doing well.”

“Does he still have that deer stand?”

“He does! He’s planning a trip with—”

“Me,” I mumble, my face still pushed up against the wall. “Your husband is planning a trip with Ramsdale and me. Now, do you mind asking Darrell to let me breathe?”

Chelsea and the officer share a glance. She pulls out her cellphone. “Would you mind if I … y’know?” She pantomimes taking a camera.

“Go right ahead, ma’am.” Darrell poses, leaning more of his weight into me.

“Chelsea …” I growl as she snaps a photo.

She snorts, unable to control her giggles. “Okay, okay … Darrell, this is Nick Crawford. He really is a good friend of mine. He’s not a criminal, but if he’s pissed you off, it’s probably justified.” She steps closer. “But … I don’t know what he would be here.” She eyes me suspiciously. “Did my husband send you?”

Darrell pulls me away from the wall, keeping a hand on my shoulder. “He said he’s here to pick up his son.”

“Oh!” Chelsea’s gasps. “Julian told me the exciting news …. Dad.” She singsongs the word. “Wait … is your son a student?”

I nod, rubbing at the back of my neck now that Darrell has finally released me from police custody. “He is. He’s in kindergarten.”

Chelsea hums with excitement. “What’s his name?”

“Grady Stone.”

“You’re Grady’s father? Nick …” She croons, pressing a hand to her chest. “He is just the sweetest thing.”

“I thought so, too, but—” I shrug—“apparently he got into a fight today, which is why I’m here, picking him up.”

She wrinkles up her face. “That doesn’t sound like him at all. Maybe you can talk with his teacher—oh, you are going to love her. She—”

“We’re all set, Mrs. Santiago!” A woman in scrubs emerges from a large, glass-walled office, holding the door open for two little girls.

Chelsea twirls around. “Ah, perfect. Did y’all get your bandaids?” The little girls nod as Chelsea gestures for them to follow her. “Let’s get back to lunch then.” She points to me. “You. We’ll catch up later.”

I give her a wave.

With a heavy sigh, Darrell finally returns my driver's license before slapping a neon green visitor sticker onto my chest with considerably more force than necessary. “There.”

“Thank you, Darrell,” I snark. “I’m assuming that’s the front office?”

He offers a tight smile as I carefully step away.

The office buzzes with energy as staff members carry out their duties amid a steady stream of hushed conversations and ringing phones. Blue-and-white accents are woven throughout the space, from the banners hanging overhead to the painted tiger mascot displayed on the walls, while colorful student artwork brightens nearly every available surface.

I approach the desk, the secretary brightening to my presence. “Hey, there—”