Breathe

Then, I could do two things.

One, I could call my Dad, tell him what was happening and lay the problem on his broad shoulders, knowing he’d look into it then promptly do something about it.

Two, I could be a grown up, not call my Dad to hand over a burden that wasn’t mine but was all the same and I could go to the Police Station, report what I’d seen and hope they’d do something about it.

The problem with that was, Chace Keaton worked at the Police Station.

The boy’s nose, eye, cheekbone and lip came into sharp relief in my mind’s eye and I closed my actual eyes as I sucked in breath.

I opened them and turned back to the library knowing what I had to do.

I should note, not liking it.

But knowing it.

*

Chace

It was quarter to seven when she walked in.

He’d applied for the job in Carnal upon graduation from the Academy. It was the only place he’d worked since earning his badge and he’d worked there thirteen years.

And not once had Faye Goodknight walked into the Police Department. Not even when Rowdy Crabtree brought her father in on that trumped up charge for drunk and disorderly when Silas Goodknight had just been in Bubba’s, a place he didn’t frequent but he wasn’t a stranger. Silas had been celebrating a friend’s fiftieth birthday. Silas, nowhere near drunk and definitely not disorderly, spent the night in the tank. His wife, Sondra, had come in to make bail and pick him up.

Fortunately, the charge didn’t stick. And none of the Goodknights knew this but the reason it didn’t was because Chace intervened with Fuller, talking him down about targeting another well-respected, well-liked citizen. He’d explained Fuller already had enough talk in town about what was done to Walker, he didn’t need more speculation. And worse, he didn’t need to rile up Goodknight who had demonstrated, repeatedly, he was not the kind of man to go away quiet, lick his wounds and fight another day. He was the kind of man who would go down fighting which meant he’d take others with him.

Fuller had, surprisingly, relented and set up Crabtree to take the hit of a bad arrest.

Now, she was here. And he saw her eyes skid through him at his desk while they scanned the room and she moved to reception.

He figured she was there at that time because the library opened at ten and closed at six.

He also figured she was there at that time because she expected him not to be there.

Whatever reason she was there, he should leave it be. He knew he should leave it be.

But he couldn’t help but think it was no coincidence that he’d not spoken to her directly once in all the years they’d lived in the same town, now they’d spoken twice and she was there.

So he didn’t leave it be.

He got up and started to the reception desk.

Her clear blue eyes skittered to him when he was five feet away and he felt the touch of them like it was real. A hand curled around his neck. Fingers gliding into his hair. Soft, light, sweet.

That kind of real.

Fuck.

She just had to look at him, that was it, and he reacted.

He continued on his path to the last place he should be.

Close to Faye Goodknight.

“Everything all right, Faye?” he asked when he got there.

“She’s got a report to make,” Jon, the officer on duty at the desk, answered for her.

Chace didn’t take his eyes from Faye. “About what?”

Jon answered again, humor in his tone now, “We haven’t gotten that far.”

Chace’s body and mouth made a decision and carried it out again before his brain caught up.

And this was, stepping to the side and opening the low, hinged, wooden gate, eyes still on Faye, mouth saying, “Faye, you follow me. Jon, I’ll handle it.”

Her teeth appeared in order to bite her lip, she hesitated a moment then she moved to do as he asked.

Chace felt Jon’s eyes on him but he didn’t glance in his direction. It wasn’t worth the effort. First, whatever this was, he was going to handle it and he had rank on Jon so Jon had no say in the matter. Second, Jon had a big mouth and even if Chace threatened him, Jon would run that mouth. It wasn’t worth the effort to do more than threaten him. So whatever Jon was thinking about Chace intervening would be all over the Station by tomorrow morning at eight o’clock. And Faye looking the way she looked and Chace showing at reception before she even had a chance to explain why she was there, he knew exactly what would be all over the Station by tomorrow.

This last, he didn’t give a fuck about. Enough words had been whispered about Chace over the last six years. This no longer affected him.

He led Faye to an interrogation room, opened the door and kept it open with arm extended, his nonverbal invitation for her to precede him. She glanced at him then lifted a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear as she looked away, ducked her head and walked by him.

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