He stares at me blankly and I nod to his arms. “Don’t know how those got there.”
I laugh loudly. This is why I love my job. “Up, Peter, I’m taking you in.”
“Didn’t do nothin!” he bellows.
I struggle to get him to his feet, but eventually manage. I cuff his hands behind his back and push him out to the car where Raide is sitting in the front seat, talking on the phone. He often comes along for the ride and waits while I bring them in. I think it’s his secret way of making sure I’m okay, even though he doesn’t interfere.
“Jesus,” he mutters when I throw Peter in the back. “He fuckin’ stinks.”
“Who are you?” Peter cries.
“Shut up, and don’t touch anything.”
I laugh as I jump into the car. We take off and Raide keeps his eye on Peter, whose eyes are frantically darting from side to side.
“You even think about trying to get out, I’ll make sure I run over your legs before I get you back into the car,” Raide snaps.
“Raide,” I say, trying to fight a smile. “Don’t threaten the criminals.”
He snorts. “Criminal, my ass. This guy probably can’t even find his own dick.”
“I can!” Peter cries from the back. “You pig.”
I burst out laughing once more and Raide quickly joins me. We arrive at my work and I quickly discard Peter before joining Raide in the car again. Then we head over to my parents’ house. My dad adores Raide, he thinks he’s the shit and doesn’t hold back on letting Raide know. My mom is warming to him and even my sisters seem to be able to make decent conversation.
“How’s Kady?” Raide asks as we drive.
“She’s good, loving Fiji.”
Kady is on vacation in Fiji with some handsome guy she met a month ago. He’s a Latino hottie and swept her clean off her feet. When he invited her for a trip to Fiji, she jumped at the chance. I told her there’s a high chance he’s a serial killer, but she seemed to think I was the crazy one. She’s having the time of her life, so I guess that means he’s not a serial killer, which is a relief.
“What about the dude?”
I snort. “I can’t even pronounce his name.
He seems to be giving her the time of her life. She certainly hasn’t complained and she also hasn’t been chopped into a thousand tiny pieces, so I’d go as far as saying it’s going fantastically.”
Raide chuckles. “That girl is nuts.”
“Totally nuts.”
We pull up at my parents’ house and I climb out of the car. Raide joins me and we both head inside to have dinner with my parents. We do this once every two weeks and it seems to be helping me develop a stronger relationship with my mom and sisters.
“Gracie!” my dad says, swinging the door open before we even reach it. “How’s it going?”
I smile and embrace him. “Good, Dad.”
“Raide.”
“How’s it goin’?” Raide asks.
“Good. Let me show you the fish I got this afternoon.”
I sigh with another smile as Dad drags Raide through the house and out the back to his man cave. I enter the kitchen, where Gretchen is having a minor meltdown over her hair. She’s got a date tonight—gasp!—and her hair isn’t perfect. Mom is frantically trying to fix it while Stacy is staring with a smirk on her face that tells me she’s secretly enjoying this.
“Hi,” I call, walking in.
Mom looks up at me. “Grace, where have you been?”
She’s not asking because I’m late; she’s asking because my hair is now limp and ugly because Peter pushed me to the floor.
“I’ve been hunting down criminals, Mom. Just the norm.”
“Your hair,” she says gently.
I snort. “Mom, are you really surprised?”
She considers this. “No. Any chance you can help me fix Gretchen’s hair?”
“No!” Gretchen cries, then gives me a sympathetic expression. “Sorry, Grace, but you aren’t touching my hair.”
“Aw,” I say, lifting my hand and wiggling my dirty fingers at her. “Come on, sis.”
Her expression turns disgusted and she cries, “This is so bad.”
I snort-laugh, and Stacy can’t help herself, she joins in.
“At least give me some suggestions, you two!” Mom snaps. “Instead of laughing.”
“Okay,” I say, walking to the sink and washing my hands. “Let’s take a look.”
“Do not put your hands in my hair, Grace!” Gretchen warns.
“Yes, queen.”
She mumbles something and I stand by Mom, staring at my sister’s perfect hair. They’ve tried to put it in an updo, but it looks like a bird’s nest on top.
“Get your hair curler, and curl those ends. It’ll take away that, ah, bird’s nest look.”
“What?” Gretchen squeals. “Mom you said it was fine, just a little off.”