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She’d taken off her wedding ring.
He’d wanted to punch a wall. Instead, he did something he rarely ever did. He’d let his emotions get the better of him. He should have known news of their separation would be all over town before sunset.
“No one’s getting a divorce.” He tossed an empty coffee cup and an uneaten greasy takeout burger into the trash.
“So, it’s not true?” Rusty asked hopefully.
“We’re separated,” Zeke admitted. “But we’re a long way off from a divorce.”
Rusty’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Oh, okay. Sorry about the separation, but I know you two will work it out.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Sure, Chief.” Rusty suddenly looked embarrassed. “Is that why you’ve been sleeping at the office?”
Zeke hadn’t realized anyone in the department had known he’d been spending his nights on the couch in his office. He’d underestimated Rusty’s detective skills.
“Roger that.”
“My cousin has a fishing cabin out along the river. Hardly uses it at all. There’s no air-conditioning and the roof leaks when it rains, but I bet you could stay there if I ask.”
So this is what his life had come down to. Sleeping in Rusty’s cousin’s wrecked out fishing cabin. Still, Zeke couldn’t help but feel touched by the offer. “Thanks, Rusty, but I’ll figure something out. Besides, staying at the office hasn’t been too bad. I’ve been catching up on paperwork.”
He’d caught up on paperwork four nights ago. He’d also cleaned out the closets, written up two new policies on the use of handcuffs, and gone on three middle of the night calls that would have normally been covered by one of his patrolmen. So far, he’d put out a kitchen fire for Mrs. Alderman on Beach Street (she always got the fire department and the police department mixed up), checked out a possible B&E over at the Ace Hardware (a stray cat had tripped the security alarm) and taken a call from Mr. Wolff next door to the bakery demanding that the delivery trucks be ‘quieter’ at ‘five-o-damn-clock in the morning.’
It had been an interesting few nights, all right.
A few more and he’d be ready to put a gun to his head.
He heard Cindy, the receptionist, talking to someone outside in the waiting area. A few seconds later, his sister Allie came marching into the office. She started when she saw Rusty.
“Oh, hey, Rusty.”
“Hey, there, Allie, what’s shakin’?”
If his deputy knew Allison Grant a little better, he’d know from the pulsing death rays darting from her eyes that the only thing she wanted to shake was him. Not Rusty. But him, as in Zeke.
“Rusty,” Allie said in a deceptively mild voice, “Would you mind giving me some private time with my big brother?”
Rusty took off faster than a buck in hunting season. Not that Zeke blamed him. If there was anything he could do to avoid this little sister-brother talk, he would.
Allie closed the door and turned to glare at him. “Please tell me this rumor I’m hearing isn’t true. Are you and Mimi really separated?”
He could lie to her, but what was the point?
“It’s true.”
She plopped herself down on the couch. “Oh, Zeke, what have you done?”
He raked a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to let it out. But don’t worry,” he said, seeing the sad look on his sister’s face, “this is all going to blow over. Mimi and I will be back together before you know it.”
“What are you going to do? Club her over the head and drag her by the hair back to your cave? That method lost popularity a few thousand years ago.”
Actually, that sounded pretty good to him right now. He didn’t think Allie was in the mood to hear it, though.
“She’ll come around.”
Allie snorted. “Sure she will.” Her expression turned wistful. “I hate this. I really do.”
