Page 38 of Noble Neighbor
She swung away and barreled across the field, anger building, eyes smarting, ignoring the concerned calls as she raced along.
Sunny knew she was making a spectacle of herself, drawing attention, but the rage inside her needed an out, and she’d picked her target.Damned interfering sheriff needed to keep his nose out of her business.
Sunny slowed her pace as she stepped onto the dock. “You ran a check on me?” Her tone was deceptively calm even as she swiped a hand across her wet face.
Beau frowned. “Ms. Jones,” he hedged, holding up a placating hand.
“Simple question, Sheriff,” she spat. “Did you, or did you not, run me through your system?” And dammit, a fresh gush started down her cheeks. She angrily batted at them.
He squared his shoulders. “I did.”
“Why?” Sunny moved closer. “What did I do to earn your mistrust?” she cried.
He had the audacity to shrug. “Just doing my job,” he muttered.
“Doing … your job. Your job” — her voice rose in volume as her hands fisted on her hips — “is to protect people, not violate their privacy.”
“Stop crying, will you?”
But Sunny was far from done. “Worse” — she leaned in, placing her face close to his — “you told others, warned them away from me, like I’m some common criminal.”
“I’m sorry. Okay? I made a mistake.”
“A mistake?” Sunny sniffed. “A mistake,Sheriff, is ordering the wrong ammunition for your department.”
She slapped a palm on his chest. “A mistake isnotdeliberately entering the name of a new resident into your system to run a background check without provocation.”
The sheriff reached out, grabbing hold of her hand. “For fuck’s sake, calm down.”
“Get your hands off her, Beau,” Oliver called out, striding closer. He placed himself between her and the sheriff, forcing the man to break his hold and step back.
Sunny sucked in deep breaths, blinking rapidly, trying to regain control of her emotions.
“Thought you were done with this nonsense of yours, Beau, or was your apology lip service?”
“I was done until she came at me like a guilty banshee.”
A banshee. Oh, hell, no. “A banshee?” she yelled, surging past Oliver. “I’ll give you banshee, Sheriff.” But Oliver’s words penetrated her fury, and she moved her focus from the sheriff to him. “He warned you, too? Shared information aboutme”— she stabbed a finger to her chest — “with you?”
“He did,” Oliver bit out, his irate look fixed on the sheriff.
“And maybe Ishoulddig deeper, because you,Sunny Jones, have something to hide,” the sheriff stated, looking at her.
“Beau—”
Sunny held her hand up, stilling Oliver, not breaking eye contact with the lawman. As sudden as the rage hit her, it left. “I’m not a bad person, Sheriff, but the girls’ father is another matter,” she admitted in a low voice. “This town,yourtown, is our new beginning. If you have a problem with us sharing your hallowed ground, making a life here, tell me now, and we’ll go straight home, pack our bags, and leave.”
She folded her arms. “What’s it to be, Sheriff Stirling?”
“Your daughters’ father? Does he pose a danger to you?”
“He’s dead.”
“Dead?”
“Dead,” she snapped. “As in six feet under burning in hell for eternity, dead.”
But the sheriff was a stubborn bastard. “Why the new identity?”
