Read Online Monkey Wrench by Terri Thayer - Free Book Online

softest pajamas, and crawled into bed. It was only nine o’clock but my body craved my pillow and quilt. A good night’s sleep meant I could get up early and get a head start on my busy day.
    Comfort didn’t come. The weight of the quilt felt stifling and the pillow wouldn’t fit the contours of my body. The pj pants rode up uncomfortably. I was too hot.
    I sat up, pushing aside the covers and leaning against the headboard.
    The real problem was I couldn’t shut my brain down. Worry about what was going on downtown popped up like an unwelcome instant message.
    I checked my phone. Nothing from Vangie.
    I grabbed the laptop to see if the demonstration was still going on. The local news station had live coverage. The reporter was standing near the Fairmont Hotel.
    “Now students from other schools have joined the State kids in the protest of the drug bust on campus today. The police will not tell us how many people have gathered, but I would guess there’s at least fifteen hundred kids filling the Cesar de Chavez park and the streets beyond.”
    The camera panned to the crowd. People leapt in front of the lens, throwing up horns and waggling their fingers like they were at a punk rock concert. I couldn’t see Wyatt or Vangie from that vantage point.
    The news report switched over to a fire in an apartment building in Sunnyvale.
    I flipped to other sites, but found nothing. News about the drug bust was sketchy. One place mentioned only that it had happened, with no details.
    Buster’s ring tone broke through my concentration.
    I grabbed the phone off the nightstand. “Hey, you,” I said.
    “Hi yourself,” Buster said, his voice low and tired. “Sorry I missed dinner,” he said. “How’d your day go?”
    My shoulders dropped. I closed the laptop and hugged my pillow. The sound of Buster’s voice seeped into my pores and relaxed every part of me. I would be able to go to sleep after I talked to him.
    “Quiet,” I lied. There would be time to fill him in tomorrow. I wanted to know only one thing. “Are you finished work? Coming home soon?” I let the questions pour out of me, unedited.
    I wanted him home. I didn’t care if Buster was too tired to talk or anything else. I just wanted my arms around him, to feel him sleeping next to me. Wake up with him. It’d been too long.
    “Not yet,” he said.
    My hand jerked, knocking my laptop to the floor. Dang it. My own fault. I’d let my hopes soar for a moment. I reached over and pulled it back into my lap.
    Buster said, “We’ve got a lot of people still to process. As usual, we do the grunt work, the FBI and DEA get all the glory. They’re off giving press conferences and reporting to the governor. We’re stuck here doing input,” Buster said.
    I made commiserating noises. Buster must be so tired.
    Buster continued, “I’ll be here for hours. I’ll probably go to my place and crash.”
    That stabbed my heart. Even if I didn’t get to see him, I’d rather he was in my bed alone than in his.
    My voice thickened. “Try to come here. I don’t care how late it is. Truly, I don’t. Wake me up when you come in.”
    He agreed.
    I didn’t want him to hang up. “Was it a good bust?”
    Buster’s voice strengthened. “Ridiculous good. We got some bad dudes off the street. Caught at least thirty low-level drug runners and several higher up.”
    “Any really big fish?”
    “Not yet, but these guys will lead us to the fellows at the top sooner or later. In the meantime, it just got a lot harder to score drugs on the San Jose State campus.”
    “Did you hear about the protests?” I asked.
    “Sure did. Makes me think we were on the right track.”
    “Vangie’s one of the demonstrators.”
    “Really? How do you know?”
    Oops. “I was there, too. Since nobody was around tonight, I decided to walk to the quilt museum for First Friday. I walked right into a mess.”
    Buster was a cop, a protector. He knew he couldn’t shield me, but that didn’t mean he