Page 12 of Defended By the Lumberjack
There's a damn good chance that by making such a public scene up here today, I might have saved July's job but at the cost of my own.
Clinton nods in silent thought as he releases July's hand and straightens back in his seat.
Raised voices sound from the direction of the office. Clinton eventually stands.
"Sorry miss, I just need to borrow Levi for a minute."
July's eyes fill with worry but I give her a quick shake of my head and a soft kiss to her lips.
Even if Clinton is about to tell me I'm unemployed, I don't give a fuck. I'll go flip burgers at Cedar McAllister's tavern restaurant, or work the late shift at the gas station market to keep July's dream safe and stay on the Ridge with her.
"I take it you're pretty serious about this girl?" Clinton puts his hand on my shoulder and leads me to an empty corner of the lobby, lowering his voice to private conversation levels.
"Yes sir. Very much so."
"Just met her though, didn't you?"
I glance back at July and see her sitting alone where we left her, nervously tapping her knee and looking between the office door and me. My heart swells up with an emotion that threatens to drown me in it.
"Yes sir," I confirm to the boss. "But I'm serious about her. July's going to be moving down to my place soon and I plan on putting my ring on her finger as soon as she'll let me."
I pull myself to my full six, five, which puts me eye level with old man Murdock's forehead. He can say whatever he wants about me but when it comes to my girl, he needs to tread lightly.
Clinton watches my posture and gives me a look like he just doesn't get it.
"Never put much stock into love at first sight, myself." He mutters more to himself than to me. "But I admire the integrity it takes for a man to stand up for what's right. Even when the consequences could bite him in the ass."
Clinton's eyes move to the open office door where my fate is being decided.
If there's no camera in the storage room, if the cameras don't record audio-- footage could work in Pendergrast's favor. It could look like a simple case of a guest following an employee into a room off record.
He could stick to his claim that July propositioned him, or he could claim he was just asking a question.
But there's no doubt the cameras caught me roughing him up as I dragged his sorry ass through the building.
The video will just show a jealous boyfriend coming unhinged on an innocent man with no record of what triggered it.
Voices rise again inside the office, growing louder as the group emerges.
Deputy Tompkins has his handcuffs dangling from his hands, his eyes scanning the room when he sees that I'm not where they left me.
I still don't know who's getting the ride down to the Slow River station.
Chapter Seven
July
"July? Can I have a word with you, please?"
Deputy Hawkins beckons me into the office where the older woman sits behind Eddy's desk, in front of a computer with paused video on the screen.
Hawk takes a breath, like having to answer a call on a Saturday afternoon is trying his patience.
Our local sheriff's deputy is more one of the townspeople than the face of the law on the Ridge, despite the uniform and a determined sense of duty, rumor has it that he's in thick with the women who run the historical society-- a quartet of old ladies who are as notorious in this small town as any gang running the streets of southern California.
"Marianne Smalls is willing to stand on record to what she witnessed." He takes a seat and flips a page on his notebook.
Smalls. The name is well-known up on the Ridge.
