Page 44 of Oddly Fine

“Where in the world is that—” The voice was surprisingly high-pitched and loud—making no attempt to be stealthy.

Although larger than Beckett, the intruder didn’t stand a chance. Moving swiftly, Beckett pressed his switchblade to the underside of their neck just as the intruder’s hand made contact with the light switch, and the basement was suddenly flooded with light.

“Don’t kill me! Oh sweet baby Jesus, please don’t kill me! My wallet’s in my purse!” the woman in Beckett’s grasp screamed, the sheer terror in her voice making it obvious she was not in the least experienced with breaking and entering or burglary.

“Don’t move!” Beckett snapped, confused and drawing a blank on how to handle a terrified female intruder.

“Please just take my money and go! Don’t harm the kids! Oh, please!” She burst into tears and quivered with fear.

The kids?

And then it dawned on him. Oh, shit! This gray haired woman was well into her 60s and not guilty of breaking and entering. Nor had she been looking for a safe. Rather—she’d simply been looking for the light switch.

Just a fucking light switch. Fuckity fuck fuck! This was bad. Really, really bad.

Abruptly, Beckett released her and backed away, closing his switchblade while struggling to figure out what the fuck to do now. What a shit show!

“Ahhhh, tabarnak!” The curse escaped along with a heartfelt groan. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he apologized while staring at the woman, who was now pressed up against the wall, gazing at him fearfully.

“I don’t understand!” She put her hand to her throat where Beckett’s blade had been pressed. When she pulled her hand away, a slight trickle of blood ran down her fingers from where the blade had nicked her. Fuck, Beckett was dead.

“Let me guess—you’re the grandma?” Beckett asked, feeling himself beginning to crash from the earlier rush of adrenaline. He took a deep breath and tried to figure out what to do next.

“I am,” she confirmed, still looking at Beckett like he was a complete madman.

“Fuckkkkkkk,” Beckett groaned while pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Beckett?” Hayes called as he rushed down the basement stairs and headed straight for Beckett. Despite having heard the grandmother’s panicked screams, he barely glanced at her and focused all of his attention on Beckett.

“What’s going on?” he asked sternly, positioning himself to face both Beckett and the grandma—just in case she attacked, Beckett guessed.

“Is your resume up to date? We’re gonna need a new job, Daisy-doo.” Beckett’s shoulders slumped and his chin dropped to his chest.

“Why?” Hayes asked, frowning as he glanced back and forth between them.

“’Cause I just held Mamie Donna at knifepoint,” Beckett replied.

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” The old woman’s voice quivered with indignation and residual fear. “And why is he wearing makeup?”

Hayes turned to her, his mouth opening and closing a few times. Finally, he cleared his throat.

“Ms.—” he hesitated politely, waiting for her to identify herself.

“Call me Donna,” she said calmly, regaining her own composure and stepping away from the wall.

“Ms. Donna—I’m Hayes, and this is my partner Beckett. We are babysitting this evening.” And Beckett didn’t think Hayes could feel any more awkward or uncomfortable as he did at this moment.

“Well—” Donna responded as she straightened her blouse and patted her hair back into place. “I’ve had better greetings!” she declared brusquely.

“I’m sure you have,” Hayes acknowledged with a tentative smile. “Would you like a cup of tea?” he asked, his British accent suddenly more apparent, as he defaulted to his polite society upbringing and ingrained courteousness.

Grandma Donna nodded, looking satisfied with his gracious attempt to make up for the initially disastrous greeting by offering to fix her some tea.

“And a bandage,” she said, retrieving her purse from the floor. “Your partner nicked me with that giant butter knife,” she huffed, looking at Beckett disapprovingly.

“Please kill me,” Beckett whispered to Hayes, who bit back his laugh as he lead the way back up the basement stairs.

They invited Donna to sit down at the kitchen table while they went about getting tea prepared and gathering first aid supplies. Hayes had to retrieve their first aid kit from the car to get what he needed to clean the small cut and cover it with a bandage. It was only a minor nick, but they’d still get yelled at for endangering a civilian, of that there was little doubt. They’d just have to suck up whatever punishment was doled out to them, and find a way to get back into Gill’s good graces. Again.