Page 35 of The Way Back Home

I nod, though I don’t believe it, and neither does she, I don’t think.

Olivia unfastens the bandana from her hair and folds it, tying it around her neck like a scarf. “What are you doing here?”

“We got a grand opening soon, don’t we?”

“August, I know you have things to tend to back at Tanglewood. You don’t have to help me here.”

“You know, this would go a lot quicker if you quit talkin’,” I say, and I fight the smile that threatens to appear when she feigns disbelief.

I get to work, helping her remove the debris from the wall coming down, and we shift it out into the huge dumpster by the side of the building. I follow her to the back of the shelter where the kennels are mostly untouched. The concrete floor could use a lick of paint, the doors some new hinges, and some of them need new wire and a couple of new locks. Olivia makes an inventory, and I offer to take her to the hardware store. We don’t have no Home Depot here, but we manage to find everything we need and spend a good hour strolling the aisles of old Winthrop’s Hardware for shit we don’t.The woman can shop.

We’re not back at the shelter more than ten minutes, chowing down on sandwiches from Stevie Rae Mae’s, when a police cruiser pulls into the drive, and we both look at one another in surprise. We abandon our food as the sheriff steps out of her vehicle.

“August Cotton, well, thisiscozy,” she says with a chuckle. I jam my hands in the pocket of my jeans so I won’t ball them into fists.

“Can we help you, Sheriff?” Olivia says, her brow furrowed in confusion as if she’s worried she might have done something wrong.

“I took a look at that tape, and what did I find but my nephew and his friend Beau Banks?”

“Tape?” Olivia asks, looking between the two of us for clarification.

“Mr. Cotton here stopped by my office this morning, showed me a little video tape of the perps who vandalized your shelter.”

I sigh. Olivia looks at me with a horror-stricken expression.Here it comes. “You took the tape to her?”

“For future reference, Miss Anders, if someone vandalizes your property or threatens you in any way, you should report it.” Her gaze lowers to Olivia’s neck, and then flits to me before settling back on Olivia.

Olivia toys with the bandana. “Thanks. I will.”

“Alright, y’all, get your butts on out here,” Sheriff Webb says, opening the back door of the cruiser. “Congratulations, Miss Anders. You’re now the proud owner of two strapping young men who’ll be spending the rest of their summer working for you for free.”

“Oh . . . no,” Olivia says, shaking her head. “That’s . . . really, I can handle it.”

Sheriff Webb chuckles. “Oh, but I insist. Boys, don’t make me tase your ass.”

Two teenage boys climb out of the car with their shoulders slumped and their faces downturned. The sheriff clips them both on the backs of the heads, and I stand there unsure of how to proceed. “Miss Anders, meet perp one and two, otherwise known as Josiah Webb, my nephew”—she manages to make nephew sound like a bad word—“and his accomplice, Beau Banks.” She turns to the boys and says, “Apologize, now.”

They keep their jaws locked up tight, and she whispers in a voice that’s not so much a whisper as it is a polite threat, “So help me God, I don’t care that either one of you are seventeen going on eighteen, or that you’re family, Josiah. I will give you both an ass whoopin’.”

“Sss-sorry,” Beau is the first to speak. He’s got scruffy blond Bieber hair and a pimply face—he looks like one of those shaggy dogs. Josiah Webb, though? He’s taller than his friend, bulkier too, and as black as midnight. He’s got a chip on his shoulder as large as mine, and he comes from real bad stock too. His aunt might be the town sheriff, but his older brother is doing time for statutory rape and supplying drugs to a minor, and his daddy is one hell of a mean bastard.

“Sorry,” Josiah says, but it’s obvious from his tone that he don’t mean it.

Sheriff scowls. “Act like you got some raisin’, boy. Now you two made this mess, you’re gonna help clean it up.”

“Will you excuse us for just a minute.” Olivia frowns and turns to me. “Can I talk to you inside?”

“Sure. You two run along and have a little chat,” Shona says. “I ain’t got nothin’ to do but stand around and wait for a bunch of white people all day.”

“We’ll just be a second.” Olivia reaches out to grab my arm. For the first time in a long time, I don’t pull away, I let myself be led. Once we’re back inside the building, she turns on me. “Are you out of your damn mind?”

I smirk and fold my arms over my chest. “That depends on who you ask, now, doesn’t it?”

“I specifically didn’t want to go to the sheriff, I told you that. This town hates me enough; I don’t need a reason for those kids’ parents to come here upset with me.” She folds her arms across her chest. This pushes her boobs up, and gives me a better view of her cleavage. When she catches me staring, her cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink, and she drops her arms by her sides.

“So, you think it’s okay they go unpunished?”

“Of course not. I just don’t need anyone else putting a stop to this shelter.”

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