Page 17 of Rules

Maybe, I'll send one of the deputies to have that conversation instead.

Chapter 8

Tobias

I remain in my parked pick up, unable to summon the energy to go inside the station. The Hendersons' shattered shop keeps replaying in my mind—blood on antiques, wanton destruction, senseless violence. The needless injury of two older people; there wasn't a need for that. Neither one of them posed any type of threat. Two break-ins in under a week. I can't help but shake the feeling that something's going on and after Michael's bullshit this isn't a feeling I'm willing to ignore.

I punched his contact number out of need more than anything else.

"Tobias, heard there was a break in at the bakery." Law states more than asks.

"Yeah, and today one at the antique shop."

"Fuck," Law's voice tone instantly switches to his work one. "Are they related?"

"I think so." I needed to know what I called about so, I blurted out. "You know anything new about Michael's location?"

Law sighed, which I took as not a good sign.

"No. Well, that's not correct. The ladies have been tracking him but so far the only thing that's been active is his money. There have been charges up and down the Eastern seaboard but our overall feeling is that, unless he's on a sightseeing trip we think he's just blowing smoke up our asses."

"Great." Well, this was no help. I closed my eyes. "I've got the deputies doing routine runs past his addresses, but so far nothing."

"Do you have any reason to believe he's a part of the break-ins?"

"Brother, right now I don't know who's involved. All I know is I have three business owners in the hospital and no answers to the why questions."

"What can we do to help?"

"Find Michael so I can tell the little voice in my head to shut up."

"We're trying, believe me we're trying." Law let out a frustrated sounding breath. "The ladies are pretty convinced he's not in Whispering Pines. Their friend with the satellite allowed them to keep it stationary over the area. They uploaded face recognition software to it with Michael and Mr. Dagger's information. It's constantly scanning for him. We just need them to show their ugly self."

"Keep me posted, will you?"

"Always."

I hung up the call. I know I was grasping at straws but right now, it's the only straw I have. The level of my frustration is enormous, I can't help but think maybe I've been the sheriff too long. Maybe I'm losing my edge. I mean, Michael pulled that shit right under my damn nose. The number of times I was in the same room and could have taken out that maniac, makes me want to punch something. And I knew nothing about it. Nothing.Not one fucking hint of his actions. And now these damn break-ins. And here's me with no clue to who or what's happening with them. Oh yea, some fucking sheriff I am. I closed my eyes and blew out a deep breath.

"That fucking talk isn't helping anybody." I said to no one. Turning my head I looked out over the grass and trees of the lawn next to the station. My thoughts drift to my other failure, Ruth. Her shop could be next. Can I keep her safe? The image of her surrounded by broken glass and blood makes my chest tighten painfully. I should warn her. Send a deputy. Call her. Do something.

But the memory of her lips against mine, her body pressed to the wall of her shop, threatens my resolve. I close my eyes, and suddenly I'm not in my cruiser anymore but back at the Chamber of Commerce picnic three months ago, when everything between us began.

I can hear the noise of chatting people standing in small circles visiting with each other. I smell the aroma of hamburgers on the grill. The shimmer of dusk is just starting to settle in. Walking around, I wander from group to group, smiling and making small talk as I roam. Tonight is the annual Chamber of Business cookout. Business owners from all over Whispering Pines are here. Stepping up onto the concrete floor of the open covered picnic area, I make my way through the tables. Calling out greetings, shaking hands, I weave in and out. A mentor once told me half the job of a sheriff is just being friendly to people.

Looking back now, if I'm honest, I wasn't there to be seen or shake hands, I was there to see if she was. I didn't know if she would be there, but man had I fought with myself all day, in the end I had to see if she would show up. I've chatted small talk with her before, at other events, and she's always stood out to me. Of course, I've seen her around town and in hershop, but it's always been business. Except when I brought her Joey. I could have taken him right to the vet or one of the other businesses in the strip mall, yet something told me to take him to her. I'm glad I did. Her keeping him gave me a reason to stop any time I wanted. Only, I haven't, I guess because I don't know what would happen if I did.

Walking over to the picnic tables on the far side of the open building, I spot her, my forbidden fruit. She's wearing a dark purple dress which brings out the color of her eyes as well as accentuates her full chest. Her copper hair catches the fading sunlight, turning it into a halo of fire around her face. I'm mesmerized by her, she's even prettier in real life than in my thoughts. I've not spoken more than twenty words at a time to her, and yet there's something in her voice that makes me feel alive. She tosses her head back in laughter and her smile is infectious. Realizing that I'm grinning like some college kid about to see his first set of boobs, I quickly change my expression. But not before she sees me. Looking over, she smiles and nods. I return the gesture and force myself to look away, only to be drawn back minutes later by her voice calling out.

"Sheriff Trenton?"

Turning, I see the others who were there a minute ago are now gone. It's just us.

"Sheriff Trenton?" She calls out again.

I take a couple of steps toward her and I'm standing on the opposite side of the picnic table.

"Would you like to have a seat?" Her eyes remind me of bright amber, almost sparkling in the twilight.

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