names I wasn’t sure we’d find still alive, and first names who’d wanted me dead for no good reason other than why not.
“And the fourth?” Murphy stopped, looking back at me.
I swallowed. “Jude,” I said. “Jude Ryder.”
“Wait,” Murphy said, his face changing. “Jude Ryder’s down there?”
I nodded, my forehead lining.
“Shit,” he said under his breath before tearing his walkie from his pocket. “Hal,” he sighed into it, “call for back-up. Jude Ryder’s here.”
Hal muttered another curse back before answering, “Copy that. I’m calling for back-up now.”
CHAPTER FIVE
One of my favorite places in the cabin was the screened in porch. I loved taking in the view, curled into old wicker chair with a blanket twisted around me.
That had changed tonight.
Something about watching the guy you hoped would kiss the wits out of you every night until forever shoved away in cuffs, followed by three more guys who were more stumbling than walking thanks to Jude’s handiwork, all while what was left of the kennel and the remains of a dog you were responsible for smoldered, had a way of knocking your whole worldview on its ass.
The paramedics had left because, other than a smattering of heat blisters on the back of my neck, there was nothing in their arsenal that could fix singed hair. My parents finally woke up once three more squad cars arrived with sirens blaring. Mom was still hung over from her double dose of sleeping pills and dad had been such a wreck when he found out what happened he had to be given a tranquilizer. So now, both parents sat as far apart as they could on the wicker loveseat, eyes glazed over, glancing between the beach to me to the police cars as if trying to decide if this was all real.
“Mr. and Mrs. Larson?” Officer Murphy tapped once on the screen door before stepping onto the porch. “We’re all finished up here. Here’s my card if you have any questions.” He slid it into my mom’s hand, looking between the three of us like we were the saddest thing he’d seen tonight. He might have been right. “Otherwise, I’ll keep you updated. Now, Lucy,” he said, turning to face me, “I’ll need you to come down to the station and give your report first thing in the morning. Will you need a squad car to pick you up or can you get there on your own?”
“I can drive,” I answered, giving him a small smile.
Mirroring my smile, he crouched beside me. “Are you all right, Lucy?” he asked, resting his hand on my arm. “Can I get you anything?” He squeezed my arm, shooting a look my parents’ way like he couldn’t reconcile why they were over there while I was over here.
“Yeah,” I said, trying not to look back at the third squad car from the front, where a bowed head wearing a beanie cap was visible. “I’m good.”
“Okay,” he said, rising. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Officer?” Mom cleared her throat, sounding half pleasant. Must have been the sleeping pills. “Just to be clear, Mr. Ryder doesn’t live in the house next door?”
“No, Mrs. Larson,” he said. “Unless you count squatting in the boat house uninvited for a few nights.”
“Squatting?” she repeated like she’d never heard the word.
“Also known as breaking and entering in my line of work,” he explained. “Also known as a regular occurrence if you’re Jude Ryder.”
“This isn’t his first time being arrested?” mom asked, staring at me as she spoke.
Officer Murphy chuckled. “Nowhere near it,” he said. “We’ve known Jude and those other three delinquents since they were grade schoolers. Bad eggs, every last one of them,” he said, looking at me like he was trying to drive a message home. “These boys are the sort fathers pray their daughters never have the misfortune of meeting. These are the kind of boys that grow into men that spend their lives in prison.”
Mom sighed, shaking her head while dad enjoyed the benefits of la-la
“And the fourth?” Murphy stopped, looking back at me.
I swallowed. “Jude,” I said. “Jude Ryder.”
“Wait,” Murphy said, his face changing. “Jude Ryder’s down there?”
I nodded, my forehead lining.
“Shit,” he said under his breath before tearing his walkie from his pocket. “Hal,” he sighed into it, “call for back-up. Jude Ryder’s here.”
Hal muttered another curse back before answering, “Copy that. I’m calling for back-up now.”
CHAPTER FIVE
One of my favorite places in the cabin was the screened in porch. I loved taking in the view, curled into old wicker chair with a blanket twisted around me.
That had changed tonight.
Something about watching the guy you hoped would kiss the wits out of you every night until forever shoved away in cuffs, followed by three more guys who were more stumbling than walking thanks to Jude’s handiwork, all while what was left of the kennel and the remains of a dog you were responsible for smoldered, had a way of knocking your whole worldview on its ass.
The paramedics had left because, other than a smattering of heat blisters on the back of my neck, there was nothing in their arsenal that could fix singed hair. My parents finally woke up once three more squad cars arrived with sirens blaring. Mom was still hung over from her double dose of sleeping pills and dad had been such a wreck when he found out what happened he had to be given a tranquilizer. So now, both parents sat as far apart as they could on the wicker loveseat, eyes glazed over, glancing between the beach to me to the police cars as if trying to decide if this was all real.
“Mr. and Mrs. Larson?” Officer Murphy tapped once on the screen door before stepping onto the porch. “We’re all finished up here. Here’s my card if you have any questions.” He slid it into my mom’s hand, looking between the three of us like we were the saddest thing he’d seen tonight. He might have been right. “Otherwise, I’ll keep you updated. Now, Lucy,” he said, turning to face me, “I’ll need you to come down to the station and give your report first thing in the morning. Will you need a squad car to pick you up or can you get there on your own?”
“I can drive,” I answered, giving him a small smile.
Mirroring my smile, he crouched beside me. “Are you all right, Lucy?” he asked, resting his hand on my arm. “Can I get you anything?” He squeezed my arm, shooting a look my parents’ way like he couldn’t reconcile why they were over there while I was over here.
“Yeah,” I said, trying not to look back at the third squad car from the front, where a bowed head wearing a beanie cap was visible. “I’m good.”
“Okay,” he said, rising. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Officer?” Mom cleared her throat, sounding half pleasant. Must have been the sleeping pills. “Just to be clear, Mr. Ryder doesn’t live in the house next door?”
“No, Mrs. Larson,” he said. “Unless you count squatting in the boat house uninvited for a few nights.”
“Squatting?” she repeated like she’d never heard the word.
“Also known as breaking and entering in my line of work,” he explained. “Also known as a regular occurrence if you’re Jude Ryder.”
“This isn’t his first time being arrested?” mom asked, staring at me as she spoke.
Officer Murphy chuckled. “Nowhere near it,” he said. “We’ve known Jude and those other three delinquents since they were grade schoolers. Bad eggs, every last one of them,” he said, looking at me like he was trying to drive a message home. “These boys are the sort fathers pray their daughters never have the misfortune of meeting. These are the kind of boys that grow into men that spend their lives in prison.”
Mom sighed, shaking her head while dad enjoyed the benefits of la-la
Similar Books
