Home > Searching for Beautiful (Searching For #3)(53)

Searching for Beautiful (Searching For #3)(53)
Author: Jennifer Probst

Uh-oh. She watched Wolfe struggle with his temper, grinding his teeth with vicious purpose. “I’m fine,” she said strongly. “Go with him and I’ll meet you at the station.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Wolfe ground out to the officer. “She’s just been attacked. Get her a blanket and some water.”

Brute narrowed his gaze. “Get him out of here,” he directed his partner, motioning toward the door. She watched helplessly as Beauty guided him out. Arilyn growled something undignified under her breath while Brute settled them in his police car. He shut the door, disappeared, and returned with a blanket and two bottles of water from the trunk. “Here.” He thrust them into Arilyn’s hands and took his place in the driver’s seat.

Arilyn covered Gen up, tucking the blanket carefully around her legs and opening the bottle. Gen took a few sips. The blessed warmth of the scratchy material relaxed her a bit. She was so stupid. It was all her fault for calling David. Believing his story. How had their relationship disintegrated to such violence and hate?

And a restraining order? Had David bribed a judge or falsified evidence? Wolfe had never threatened or touched him before. She had to fix this somehow, but now that David had shown his true colors, she was afraid of making things worse for Wolfe. David had so many connections in the community, he’d be able to make Wolfe’s life a living hell. Her thoughts spun and she lapsed into silence as they drove to the station.

Arilyn patted her knee and launched an attack.

“I hope you’re not one of these cops in the good old boys’ club,” she said, voice dripping icicles. “Officer—?”

“Petty. Stone Petty.”

Stone? Huh, the name fit perfectly. Even his tone was stone-cold, challenging Arilyn’s tit for tat.

“Why don’t you tell me what the good old boys’ club is, Mrs.—”

“Ms. Arilyn Meadows. I told you my name on the phone.”

“I didn’t take the call, Ms. Meadows.” He placed emphasis on the Ms. “I only respond to Dispatch.”

“Verily isn’t that big. Were you on break when you received the call? I imagine you were doing something else, since it took fifteen minutes to get here.”

Half-fascinated, Gen watched her kind, calm friend turn into a bitch.

“Yeah. I was getting a donut and talking to my good old boys.”

Arilyn tightened her lips. “I’m just concerned about appearances. Police seem to judge by first impressions, and David is a liar. He’s abused my friend and manipulated the situation, and I also suspect he set up the whole thing to get caught by Wolfe. I would hate justice not to be served because of some surface charm and connections.”

The temperature in the cop car dropped like a ghost had just visited. “I see. I’ll try not to be blinded by a charming smile and give the rocks in my brain a workout. Amazing how lucky I got passing all those tests and physicals and training. Hell, at least I get my daily jelly donuts and get to ride in a cool car.”

Arilyn huffed out a breath. “You’re being ridiculous and mocking me. I’m just warning you to examine the entire situation and look at the facts.”

“Yes, ma’am. You’re the taxpayer. And you are correct about wrong judgments. Why, my initial impressions of you were completely wrong.”

Her friend’s brows snapped together. “What do you mean?”

Stone Petty’s voice held true innocence. “I originally thought you were a sweet, calm, hippie do-gooder.”

“Oh. And now?”

Gen held her breath. Some strange kind of tension squeezed between them, and she was caught in the middle. It was so unlike Arilyn to go on the offensive, especially with someone in authority. She usually respected teachers or anyone in a uniform a bit too much.

“Now I don’t.”

The unspoken insult hit the target. Arilyn gasped, but he’d already pulled up to the small station and parked by the curb. He opened the door, escorted them out, and brought them inside.

Gen had never been in the police station before. It looked like the typical small-town, Main Street facility like the firehouse and ambulance volunteer corps. The lobby held a high counter, a few chairs, and the stale scent of coffee, sweat, and guilt. Officer Petty guided them through a long hallway, which opened up on a room with a few battered desks, filing cabinets, a makeshift kitchen, and a few doors she imagined led to private offices. Definitely nothing to regale Kate and Kennedy about. She bet they would ask her a million questions regarding the inside.

Petty settled them at a corner desk by the wall. She sat down on the metal chair, noting various photos and mishmash pinned to the wall behind each desk, but nothing personal lay on Officer Petty’s. Files. Computer. Desk calendar. Clock. Seemed he liked his sweets, judging from the multiple crumbled cookie bags. Half a pack of Marlboro cigarettes lay open. Oh no. Maybe Arilyn wouldn’t see. Maybe she’d realize they were in a dicey situation and not go on a rant. Maybe—

“You smoke?”

The high pitch of her friend’s voice made Gen wince. Too late. Petty cocked an eyebrow, slid the pack into the top drawer of his desk, and stared at her.

“You got a problem with that?”

Arilyn leaned her elbows on the chipped wood. “Yes. I have a huge problem. Besides polluting the environment and killing others with secondhand smoke, you’re a time bomb of health issues. Cancer. Pain. Death. Still worth it?”

Gen kept still. The tension between them tightened another notch like a noose, and the stare-off was too intense for breathing. Finally, Petty grinned real slow and deliberate.

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