Page 167 of Passion at the Lake

“Not this again,” she complained.

“Say it.” I would keep at this until it was second nature to her.

“Couples face challenges together and share burdens together.”

“That’s right, and we’re doing this together. She’d been the second-class citizen in her relationship with Dickless for so long that her reaction after leaving him had been to insist on being the top dog in our relationship when she arrived. The concept of equals was one she was still working through.

“Are you sure this will work?”

“No, but letting it go would be the wrong thing. And besides, I protect my women.”

We restarted the trek. A few seconds later she asked, “And exactly how many women do you have the protective instinct for?”

It took me a second. “You, Mom, and Marge.”

“Nice save, Benson.”

I pulled her against my side. “You know you’re the only one for me.”

Rusty, Anna, and Pris were waiting for us outside the station. After quick hellos, we headed in.

The room smelled a little less like day-old pizza than it usually did.

Old Earl sat behind an open box of buffalo wings at the chief’s desk. He looked up and rolled his eyes.

Devlin stood and took the handcuffs off of his belt. “Come to turn yourself in for violating the town’s no-ugliness ordinance?”

Nobody but him laughed, not even Earl.

“Cut it out, Dev,” Earl barked.

“We’d like a minute with you,” I told him.

“About what?” he asked, shifting the half-eaten box of wings to the side.

“We’re here to get Ms. Lerner’s car released from the impound lot.”

A crease formed in Earl’s brow. “I’ve been out of town, and I didn’t know we had her car. What’s the story, Dev?”

“The car was reported as a part of a missing person’s case. And you said you wanted to handle all of those yourself.”

“Did you report it?”

Devlin puffed up. “Sure did. To the Massachusetts State Police.”

“Who’s the missing person?”

“I am,” Angela told him.

Earl’s brow rose an inch. “You?”

“I left my ex-boyfriend. He knew it. He reported me missing to try to track me down.”

“Where’s her keys?” the chief demanded.

Devlin searched a drawer. “Here,” he said, holding up the keyfob.

“Rusty, you can return the car to her,” the chief said.

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