Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Dreams can come true.
9
Cooper
The ride to the edge of town isn’t too far, but it’s far enough that I’m anxious about leaving Juno at home alone. Home. The thought of her being there with me all the time and the two of us making it ours stirs my soul.
I texted Luca and asked him when he’d be back to the house, and he said he was headed back from a camping trip with some college buddies. His cell reception was spotty, but he’d text me when he got back to town. I guess knowing he’s on his way is better than nothing, but odds are that I’ll probably beat him back. Once I get some of my questions answered.
After we ate breakfast I read over the reports Terrance sent over, and it left me with my head spinning. Instead of worrying Juno with it, I told her that I needed to go check some things out and then I’d be back. She seemed skeptical because she knows me better than anyone, but I managed to distract her with a few kisses to that sweet pussy of hers.
The taste of her still lingers on my lips, and it makes my cock hard. All this time we’ve been keeping each other at a distance because of assumptions and the need to protect each other. When all along I could have been balls deep inside her and planning our future together.
Everything happens for a reason, I suppose, but I’ll always regret not making her mine that night in my kitchen. I knew long before then, but I always thought she was just waiting on her moment to put Pink Springs in her rearview mirror. Little did I know she was busy putting her roots down. The truth is, I think I would have lost my mind if that day ever came. I’d chase her little ass down.
I pass a couple of houses on the way out of town and spot the Petersons’ house. It’s where Paula grew up and I assume where she’s staying while she’s here in town. Mrs. Peterson is sitting on the porch with her broken leg propped up. I wave as I pass, and she smiles and waves back.
Paula said she’s here for good, but when I knew her back in high school this is the place she never wanted to end up, so I can’t imagine she’ll actually follow through with it. I have a sneaking suspicion as soon as her mom loses the cast, she’s gonna lose Paula a second later.
Turning the patrol car down the dirt driveway, I pull up to the Blair house. Mrs. Betsy Blair is sitting on her porch in a rocking chair just like yesterday when she called in an emergency. With all the commotion going on at Juno’s new store, I didn’t stop and think about the fact that we were called all the way out here for nothing. I was just thankful that the guys from the neighboring town were there to help me with protecting Juno.
I get out of the car and put on my hat before I walk up the steps. “Good morning, Mrs. Blair.”
“Hello, Sheriff. What brings you to this side of town?” Betsy doesn’t get up, but one of her aged hands grips the cross around her neck.
“I’ve got a couple of questions for you, if you don’t mind.” I pull out my little notepad and pen that I bring with me at every call. “We didn’t get a chance to talk yesterday, so can you tell me why you called us out here?” I wait, and she smiles as she waves a hand dismissively.
“Oh, I’ve already forgotten. You know how it is at my age.”
“I thought you might say that.” When I say the words, her eyes sharpen. “Is your son Eugene around? I’d like to speak with him.”
“No.” Her one-word answer is final.
“I thought you might say that too.” I take out the piece of paper from my notepad and open it up for her. “Would you mind explaining to me why his fingerprints were found at a crime scene in town yesterday at the exact time you called us to the farthest part of our patrol area?”
She glances down at the paper, but when she looks up, her eyes won’t meet mine. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Come on out, Eugene. I can see your boots behind the front door,” I call out, and there’s a long pause before the old wooden door creaks.
I wait, and her son, who is older than me, quietly creeps out and moves to stand behind her rocking chair. She puts a protective hand in front of him like this almost ninety-year-old woman is going to somehow keep him from the law.
“I’d like you to get off my property,” Betsy says and squares her shoulders.