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“No, they didn’t. This is silly. It’s probably that kid that was painting graffiti at the boat dock. You shouldn’t have called them, Dawson. We could handle this,” I screech, dreading what’s coming, because Ben isn’t going to be calm about any of this.
“So can the cops.” Ugh. Why must I surround myself with stubborn men. “Why are you so against them knowing about this?” he asks.
“Because.”
“Because why, Junie?”
My gaze jerks to the door and I squeal a little, because that question didn’t come from Dawson. That came from Ben—a mighty pissed looking Ben.
Shit.
Ben
“Ben, will you talk to me?” Junie huffs.
“I don’t think you want to hear what I have to say, Junie,” I mutter, getting out of the squad car. I hear a car door slam behind me, and a second later Junie is right beside me walking up to her front door.
“If you’d just let me explain—”
“Explain what? That my girlfriend was harassed and had personal property destroyed, but she wasn’t even going to tell me about it?” I ask her, looking at her over my shoulder, barely making her out in the darkness.
“It was a harmless—”
“Bullshit. Whoever did that, Junie, has some serious anger. Anger can be very dangerous, andyouweren’t even going to tell me.”
“I would have if something else happened. Spray painting names on shit is hardly a threat, Ben.”
“Well fuck,” I growl, mocking her, but I don’t think she gets it. “I guess I might as well find a new day job.”
“What are you talking about? she sulks, confusion and irritation warring in her voice.
“Obviously you know more about criminals than I do. You’re able to know the intent immediately and disregard the threat. All those years of training I had obviously don’t mean shit. Maybe I should just ask my deputies to tend ball for a few years and forego the police academy.”
“Now you’re just being a dick,” she says between clinched teeth.
I turn my attention back to her door, fishing my key out of my pocket. “Why in the hell didn’t you leave a porch light on?” I grunt out the words under my breath.
“I did leave a porch light on. Maybe it blew?” she suggests, stepping in closer to me. I look above my head at the light and immediately frown.
“I realize you’re the great detective here tonight, but I can be reasonably sure that the light hasn’t blown.”
“Shit, the bulb is in pieces…”
“There’s that great detective work again. If bartending doesn’t work out for you, Junie, you could always get a job on the force.”
“You know what, Ben? I’m thinking you need to go to your house tonight. I’ve suddenly developed a splitting headache,” she sasses.
I manage to somehow open her door without good light. I reach along the inside wall and flip on the light switch.
“If I tell you to stay by the door and don’t move until I check the house out, will you mind me?” I ask her, already knowing the answer.
“Since I’m not a damn dog that is supposed tomindyou, probably not,” she says, and I swear I’m going to spend the night spanking her ass red.
“Fine, then. Stay close.”
“Whatever you say, Sheriff,” she mumbles, clearly pissed at me, but that’s fine. I’m just as aggravated. We make it through the bottom half of the house and are standing at the stairs, before she speaks again. This honestly surprises me, but when she asks her question, I let out an annoyed as hell sounding breath. “Why is this even necessary? It was probably some kind of power surge that caused the bulb to shatter. That happens right? I’ve seen it happen,” she says, like she’s trying to reassure herself and me.
“It could be nothing, but I don’t like surprises, so I’m going to check out the rest of the house.”
