Page 5 of The Stars

“Dude, you could have what I have. Just sayin’.” Jacob took a sip of his coffee and glanced out the windows. “Speaking of…” He grinned and nodded.

Just outside the large windows, with the mist swirling around her, Amy climbed out of her car and headed towards the door of the coffee shop.

Damn. She looked even better than he remembered. How long had it been since he’d seen her? A year? Two?

Her long sandy blonde hair was past her shoulders and was tied up in a thick braid over her left shoulder. The sweatshirt and sexy black leggings she was wearing had his heart rate spiking.

“You’re a goner,” Jacob whispered as Amy walked into the door and glanced around.

If she noticed him, she didn’t react and instead strolled to the counter and waited to place her order.

“You could grow a pair and go over there and ask her out. Finally,” Jacob added with a nudge.

Thankfully, just then both of their walkie-talkies squawked to life.

Dante silently thanked the universe for the timely interruption as he grabbed his radio and placed his breakfast muffin down. Jacob’s amused grin didn’t go unnoticed as he reached for his own radio, the static filling the air between them.

“All units, we’ve got a situation near the old mill. Possible break-in. Responding officers needed.”

Dante cleared his throat, slipping into professional mode. “Unit 7 responding,” he said, keeping his voice steady, though his pulse quickened. Jacob echoed the call and downed the rest of his coffee.

“Saved by the squawk,” Jacob teased, already moving towards the door.

Dante shot him a glare, though his heart still raced, not just from the call but from the fact that Amy was only a few feet away, oblivious to the internal storm she was causing him. He didn’t have the time or courage to talk to her now. Duty called, and it was far easier to face potential danger than to confront the feelings for Amy that he’d been dodging for years.

As they moved outside into the mist, the early morning chill felt sharper and more invigorating.

The old mill was a couple of miles away on the edge of town, but Hidden Creek wasn’t exactly known for major crimes, so this had his curiosity piqued.

“You think it’s just kids messing around?” Dante asked as they hopped into the patrol car, the fog making the road ahead look eerie in the early morning light.

“Probably,” Jacob said, shrugging. “But you never know these days. The town’s changing. Used to be, you could leave your front door open and not worry about a thing. Now we get calls like this every other week.”

The engine rumbled to life, and soon they were speeding towards the outskirts of town. Dante couldn’t help but glance in the rearview mirror, catching sight of the lit coffee shop sign shrinking in the distance behind them. Amy was still there, and he’d be lying if he said part of him didn’t want to turn the car around, walk up to her, and say something—anything.

But that wasn’t him. Not now, maybe not ever.

“Hey, you okay?” Jacob asked, his tone slightly less teasing than before. “You were pretty quiet back there.”

Dante nodded, gripping the wheel a little tighter. “Yeah, just... thinking about the job.”

Jacob snorted. “Right. And by ‘job,’ you mean Amy Reed.”

He shot him a look, but Jacob’s grin only widened. “Listen, man. We’re not kids anymore. If you want something, you gotta go after it. She’s not just gonna wait around forever.”

Before Dante could respond, they pulled up to the old mill, the abandoned building looming in the fog. The radio squawked again, filling the silence.

“Unit 7, confirm you’re on site.”

“Confirmed,” Dante replied, stepping out of the car. The air was thick. Maybe it was just the fog or the eerie quiet of the old mill, but something felt... off.

Jacob, ever the optimist, slapped him on the back again. “Come on, let’s check it out. Could be nothing.”

But as they approached the old wooden door, Dante couldn’t shake the feeling that today, “nothing” was exactly what it wouldn’t be.

The door to the mill creaked ominously as Dante pushed it open, the rusty hinges groaning in protest. Inside, the darkness swallowed them whole, only the faint beams of their flashlights cutting through the thick gloom. The air was damp and musty, filled with the scent of decay and old wood. Dante’s breath felt heavier in his chest, but he chalked it up to the atmosphere—mills like these always had a way of making you feel uneasy.

Jacob stepped in beside him, his flashlight sweeping across the vast, open space. Dust motes floated lazily in the air, disturbed by their entry. The only sounds were the distant creak of wood settling and the muted drip of water somewhere deep within the building.