Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 100608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Cormac Jordan.”
“You were dealing drugs in class?”
“No,” Cormac mutters. “Like I already told Coach Townsend, I was just the middleman.”
“Middleman or not,” Brandon butts in, “you were caught with a bag of oxy.”
“Let me see it,” I say to Brandon.
He fishes out a sandwich bag. There are four pills inside.
“Cormac is eighteen,” Brandon blurts out. “I had to report it.”
“I understand.” I take the bag from him and pocket it. It’ll go into the confiscation locker at the station. “If you were the middleman, who were the other two people?”
Cormac shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know their names. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter,” I argue. “It could mean the difference between you getting into trouble all by yourself or getting by with a slap on the hand for informing us of the source of where the drugs came from.”
“I’m not a rat,” Cormac barks out, flinching at his own outburst. “Whatever. Can we just go?”
Hank shakes his head at me. “Don’t you think you should ask him?”
“About?”
“I already told you.” Cormac jerks his head toward Hank. “I don’t know the kid.”
“What kid?” I demand.
“Callan Kincaid,” Hank says. “For someone he doesn’t know, I sure see him lingering nearby a lot.” Hank implores with his eyes for me to understand.
He thinks this kid may have been the one to send the nasty note and hurt Callan in the bathroom. I’m not sure I believe it, but I do want to get to the bottom of what Cormac’s problem is.
“Come on, Mr. Jordan. Take a ride with me down to the station where we can get this all sorted out.”
Hank’s shoulders relax and he gives me a reassuring smile. “Thanks, Sheriff.”
Cormac stands and collects his ratty bookbag. I give Brandon a small wave before heading out. Cormac walks beside me, his head bowed.
“Where’s your coat?” I glance over at him. “That thin hoodie won’t do. It’s snowing outside.”
“I forgot mine,” he mumbles.
I let it slide, but as soon as we get inside the Tahoe, I crank the heat up. I’m glad we’re headed to the station because I have several extra coats there. Before we leave, I text Brie to order in lunch and then I drive us to the station.
“Am I going to jail?” Cormac asks, his voice resigned as he climbs out of the vehicle.
I glance over at him. “Do you want to?”
“Ha,” he deadpans.
Chuckling, I open the door and usher him inside.
“Hurry, close the door!” Cato yells from under my desk.
The door closes just as a cat darts for it. Cormac scoops it up, pulling it to his chest.
“Thank God,” Cato grumbles. “I’ve been trying to catch that Houdini for the past twenty minutes. Come here, Sugar Lips.”
“Try naming him something respectable like Smoky and maybe he’ll come to you,” I say to Cato as I reach over to scratch behind the cat’s ears. “Is this the cat you’re trying to pawn off on me?”
“Yes. Isn’t he adorable?” Cato bats his lashes at me as though that’ll convince me.
“Very, but I can’t take on another animal. Pirate might get jealous.”
Cato cringes at the name. “Or, maybe she’d love to have a friend. Maybe Brie wants it.”
Brie already has a few of her own pets that Cato forced on her. It looks like Smoky is going to be the newest Bell.
“We’ll figure that out later,” I say to Cato. “You mind running down to Martha Joy’s to see if Brie needs any help with our order?”
Cato’s eyes flicker with understanding. Before he leaves, he says to Cormac, “She sheds like crazy and I haven’t been able to pin her long enough to give her a bath, so she reeks of fish. Feel free to use my shower upstairs and borrow a change of clothes. It’s the least I can do for you catching the mongrel. If you don’t mind, though, stick her in the cat kennel that’s in the main room first so I can bathe her when I get back.”
Cormac’s eyes water. “Yeah, uh, she stinks pretty bad. I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”
He walks up the stairs with Smoky, leaving Cato with me.
“What’s the story on the homeless kid?” Cato murmurs, his brows knitting together in concern.
“Not sure, but I’m going to get to the bottom of it. Thanks for that.” I clutch Cato’s shoulder. “Make sure Brie orders a lot. I don’t think he’s had a good meal in ages.”
“If he really is homeless,” Cato says to me with a frown, “let me know. Between Kian and I, we could find him a place to stay.”
“You’re a good man, Cato.”
He smirks at me. “I prefer boy.”
I fight a stupid grin, because so do I.
And I’m back to pining over Dante all over again.
Dante
“I just don’t know what to do, man,” Rhett says, draining his wineglass. “Gary is busting my balls. Each time I feel like I’ve made progress and have the go ahead to continue with the rehab of the building, he throws out another special interest group hearing or meeting with local officials. Maybe I should throw in the towel, cut my losses, and move on.”