Page 21 of Rampage

"Chief," Deb interjects, stepping forward. "I have all of Lily's employment documentation at the diner. Tax forms, everything. She's been legally employed by me for a year. She's of age and left her previous situation voluntarily."

Mrs. Winters joins her. "I can confirm that as well. Lily works for me at the bakery. She's a model employee and a valued member of our community."

The chief nods, looking increasingly uncomfortable with the situation. "I'd appreciate seeing that paperwork, Ms. Thompson," he says to Deb. "Just to clear this up officially."

"I'll do better than that," Deb says firmly. "I'll call the town attorney. He can explain exactly why harassing a legal adult based on claims from a random man is going to result in a lawsuit your department can't afford."

The crowd murmurs in approval. I see phones still recording, faces I recognize from the diner and around town, all watching with expressions ranging from concern to outright anger on my behalf.

"That won't be necessary," the chief says quickly. "Officer Jenkins will be disciplined appropriately. Miss Chambers, you're free to go about your business. I apologize for the disturbance."

Reid helps me to my feet, his arm strong around my waist as my legs threaten to give out again. "We're going to Deb's," he says, not asking permission from anyone. "Lily needs to sit down."

The crowd parts for us as Reid guides me toward the diner, his body still partially shielding mine. I can feel him vibrating with barely contained rage.

Inside the diner, he ushers me to a booth in the back, away from windows and curious eyes. Without asking, he slides in beside me rather than across, keeping his arm around me protectively.

The diner is nearly empty at this hour, but Deb quickly flips the sign to "Closed" and locks the door behind her. The few customers inside look up curiously but remain seated.

"Water," Reid says to Deb as she approaches. "And maybe something sweet. Her blood sugar might be low after that panic attack."

I want to protest that I'm fine, but the words won't come. My hands are still shaking, and my chest feels too tight. Reid notices and takes my trembling fingers between his own.

"You're safe," he murmurs, his voice a stark contrast to the rage I'd witnessed only minutes ago. "I'm right here."

Deb returns with a glass of water and a slice of pie. "Drink," she orders gently.

As I sip the water, the bell above the door jangles like someone is trying to come in. Deb moves to intercept whoever ignored the "Closed" sign, but it's the police chief. He holds up his hands in a placating gesture, and Reid tenses beside me when Deb lets him inside.

"Just need a word," he says. "No trouble."

Reid doesn't relax. "Say what you need to say from there."

The chief sighs but keeps his distance. "Miss Chambers, I've been on the phone with the county sheriff where you're from. There's something you should know."

My stomach drops. "What?"

"There's an actual warrant out for your arrest," he says grimly. "Your foster parents filed a police report claiming you stole cash and jewelry when you left. About five thousand dollars' worth."

The room spins momentarily. "That's a lie," I whisper. "I didn't take anything that wasn't mine."

"I believe you," the chief says, surprising me. "But the warrant is real. That's how Jenkins found you, it showed up in the system when he ran your name during a routine check."

Reid's arm tightens around me. "Why would he run her name? She hasn't done anything wrong."

The chief looks uncomfortable. "It seems that a missing person report was sent out a couple of days ago to all the stations in the state, so I’m assuming he connected the dots.”

My blood turns to ice. "He knows I'm here?"

The officer shrugs. “I don’t think so. He was just trying show his ass and arrest you.”

"Son of a bitch," Reid mutters, his free hand clenching into a fist.

"I didn't steal anything," I repeat, my voice stronger now, fueled by indignation. "He's lying to force me to come back. Or to punish me for leaving."

The chief nods solemnly. "I suspected as much. These kinds of false reports aren't uncommon in domestic situations." He shifts his weight, looking genuinely conflicted. "Look, I can stall things on my end for a while, but eventually I'll have to respond to that warrant. You need to get this cleared up."

"How?" I ask, panic threatening to rise again. "It's his word against mine."

---