Kirsten’s jaw worked for a moment, but her mind had gone blank. When her synapses began to fire, the only thing she could say was, “Bullshit.”
“You’ve been a cop most of your adult life, but you’ve only been chief a year, you’ve got a lot to learn. The job becomes completely different once you step into the wheelhouse. You now have to be concerned with politics, public perception, and the flat-out responsibility of making sure everyone feels safe.”
“I don’t appreciate what you did. You had no right to tell people at that shop this morning that we’re about to make an arrest,” Kirsten said as calmly as she could. “I disagree with you, lying is not the best way to protect the people in this town.”
Tal was reaching for another doughnut and stopped. He sat back, glaring at Kirsten. “You need to learn how to be a real chief before you talk to me like that.”
“You are not the chief anymore!” Kirsten’s voice rose as she said, “I’m never going to do things your way as long as you continue to convince me you abused your position!”
Tal exploded. “You listen up, you little wet-behind-the-ears, high and mighty, idealistic brat. You need to realize the title you hold doesn’t make you any better than anyone else. You’re accountable to everyone now! Your primary job is making the mayor and the council happy because they are the ones that put you in the high chair. And they aren’t pleased to know this situation is out of control.”
“What would they say if one of their wives or daughters were raped?”
“You’re letting your fears as a woman jade your perspective!”
Kirsten jumped to her feet. “Oh! I’m so glad you played that card. That’s a sign of desperation because you know all the bullshit you’ve been spinning is wrong!”
Mona raced into the kitchen, her hair a mess and one arm in her robe. “What is going on?”
“Your daughter has her big britches on this morning.” Tal threw up his hands. “She won’t listen to reason.”
“Because I haven’t heard one damn reasonable thing,” Kirsten spat out.
“Let’s all sit down and cool off, then we’ll work this out.” Mona reached for Kirsten, who backed away.
Kirsten shook her head. “I need to leave before I lose what little respect I have left.”
“Honey, please,” Mona pleaded.
“Don’t baby her,” Tal ground out. “That’s part of her problem.”
Kirsten kissed Mona on the cheek and walked out the door, but she could hear the conversation going on inside.
“What did you say to her, and what is that on my table?” Mona yelled.
“It’s a box of damn doughnuts!”
*******
Kirsten didn’t go by Rusty’s house at her usual time, and Rusty was looking forward to showing off her picket fence project. She also wanted to talk about the latest variation of the dream and get Kirsten’s take on it. With no one to talk to and fresh out of projects, Rusty made a long list of things she needed from the hardware store and headed to her car. She spotted Stella in her own yard pulling weeds from one of her flowerbeds. Rusty glanced at the bridge sitting in the corner of her garage, taking up space, and sighed as she ventured across the street.
Stella’s tiny butt stuck in the air as she stretched to reach a weed. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a button-down pink and white checked shirt that was tucked into the elastic waistband of her pants. She reminded Rusty of an elf.
“Excuse me, Stella?”
“You stop right there if you have trouble on your mind. As you can see, I have plenty of birds, and I’ll knock you out with one of them,” Stella said without looking up.
Rusty wanted to say that she’d yank up her own plastic flamingo and work Stella over with it in a heartbeat. Instead, she took a calming breath and said, “I made something you might like to have.”
“If it’s a grenade launcher, I’m listening, Achmed.”
Rusty’s patience began to wane. “I don’t know what put that crazy idea in your head, but I am not a terrorist. I built a wooden bridge—a lawn ornament that might look nice in your yard.”
“Why don’t you put it in your yard?” Stella continued to pull weeds.
“I already have the trellis and the picket section. I think the bridge would be too much.”
Stella glanced up at Rusty. “Why didn’t you offer it to Susan next door?”
“I’m trying to be nice, make peace. Do you want the bridge or not?”
Stella tossed a wad of weeds into a bag and stood slowly. “I’ll have a look at it.” As she and Rusty walked across the street, Stella pointed at the picket section. “What’re you gonna do with that?”
“Plant flowers around it.”
“That ain’t gonna work this time of year. Late August really isn’t the time to plant anything because of the heat. I can tell you, there isn’t much of a flower selection in the stores right now, either. They’re too busy rushing in the holidays. Most of them are already turning the lawn and garden sections into Christmas displays, and the temps are still in the nineties around here.”
“I can’t leave it out there…naked. What do you suggest to dress it up?”
Stella stopped at the end of Rusty’s driveway and rubbed her lower back as she thought. “I would make a container garden around it. You’d have to go to a nursery now to find the larger plants in pots, and you’d have to give them lots of water. When the fall comes, you can switch them out for mums. And after you blow something up, you’d be able to pack your plants pretty quick for the getaway.” Stella grinned when Rusty glared at her. “That was a joke. Where’s the bridge?”
“In here.” Rusty led Stella into the garage.
Stella looked around curiously, then her gaze landed on the bridge. “Well now, that’s real cute,” she said as she ran her fingers over the handrail. “I can line my flamingos up as if each one was waiting a turn to cross it. Stella McGinnis doesn’t take charity, though. What do you want for it?”
Rusty shook her head. “Nothing, it’s a gift.”
“I can’t take it then. I’ll feel beholden, and I don’t like that. Name a price or a trade.”
Rusty understood and could relate to Stella’s logic, but she couldn’t take money from someone she assumed was on a fixed income. “Information is what I need. You tell me what plants will go best around the picket section, and the bridge is yours.”
Stella put out her hand. “You’ve got a deal, Achmed.”
“That is not my name.”
“I’m aware, but it’s how I know you, and I like the way the pronunciation kind of hangs in the back of my throat when I say it.”
Rusty regarded Stella’s hand still hanging in the air and shook it. “Deal, Irish potato head.”
“All right then, bring it on over.”
“There’s a problem. It’s heavy, and I can’t lift it by myself. Kirsten sometimes stops by, though, and when she does, I can get her to help me carry it over.”
Stella pulled her phone from the pocket of her jeans and made a call. “Hey, Kenny gave me his potato gun, and I’m about to test it on Achmed.” She pressed a button and slipped the phone back into her pocket. “She’s on her way. Let’s take a look at the area we’re gonna be working with.”
“I can’t believe you just did that,” Rusty said wide-eyed.
Stella winked. “She loves an excuse to come over here.”
Stella and Rusty walked over to the section of picket fence, and Stella gave it a close look. “What possessed you to only build one piece of fence and stick it in the middle of the lawn?”
“I noticed that someone else had done it down the street, and I liked the way it looked,” Rusty said with her hands on her hips.
“This area gets a lot of sun, so you’re gonna need something that can take the heat.” Stella rubbed her chin as she thought. “You want bright flowers, something showy. Verbena comes in a lot of different colors, and it’ll grow right over the side of a pot and put on a nice disp
lay. This time of year, the nicer larger pots are on sale, so you could pick up some for a steal. I can give you a bird or two to even out the look.”
Rusty’s eyes flashed open wide. “Thanks, but I’m going for a more natural look.”
“What’s more natural than a plastic flamingo?” Stella asked as Kirsten pulled up in front of Rusty’s house and jumped out of her car.
“I am not in the mood for bullshit today, Stella. You get your little butt back across the street and stay in your own yard. Where’s the gun?”
Stella threw up her hands. “I lied, but the good news is that Achmed and I are friends now.”
“Then why did you call me over here?” Kirsten asked as she stomped over to them.
Rusty wasn’t about to help Stella at this point. She remained silent and tried to look repentant.
“Achmed and I need help moving the bridge to my yard,” Stella explained.
“I am the chief of police, not a one-woman moving company!”
Stella didn’t flinch. “You always help me when I need it. What’s got your panties in a wad today?”
“You could’ve told me what you needed when you called, but you got me here under false pretenses. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that you’d use a potato gun,” Kirsten spat out.
“Wait, you said she was harmless,” Rusty interjected.
Kirsten pinched the skin of her forehead. “She is, but all I heard was potato gun and feared the worst.”
“What’s a potato gun?” Rusty asked.
“It’s like a homemade cannon. Kenny shot pumpkins out of one he made last year,” Stella answered wide-eyed with glee. “You should’ve seen them explode. They spread out so many seeds that he’s got pumpkin vines growing all over his property.”
“Where do you want the bridge, Stella?” Kirsten asked wearily.
Chapter Fifteen
Rusty and Kirsten set the bridge on every square inch of Stella’s lawn until Stella decided on the perfect spot. Once their work was done, they fled to the safety of Rusty’s porch and drank tea while they watched Stella arrange her birds in a line on one side of the bridge. “You made a friend for life today,” Kirsten said drolly.
“I apologize for her calling you over that way. I didn’t realize she would do that when I told her I couldn’t move the bridge by myself. I should’ve called you then and told you the truth.” What Rusty didn’t admit was she wanted to see Kirsten, and the selfish side of her was happy that Stella had tricked Kirsten into a visit.
“I’m sorry I was so irritable when I got here. It’s been a really bad day,” Kirsten said before she took a drink of her tea.
“You look kinda glum and distracted too. I noticed that when we were humping that damn hunk of wood all over Stella’s yard. I had a bad day too.”
“My mom makes peace with food, and she sent me a text a little while ago to say she left a big pot of jambalaya in my refrigerator. Why don’t you come to my place around seven, we’ll eat, and blow off steam?”
Rusty thought for a moment, then said, “All right.”
*******
The directions that Kirsten had written out were easy to follow, and in a matter of minutes, Rusty pulled up in front of a house sitting atop long cement pilings. Every house along both sides of the street loomed above her in the air. Even the air-conditioning units were on stilts. She grabbed a container off her passenger’s seat and got out of her car, then climbed two flights of stairs. Rusty was a tad winded when Kirsten opened her door. “What do you do when this place floods?”
Kirsten smiled as she allowed her in. “We park in a dry zone and come in on boats.”
“Then what do you do when you’re here?”
Kirsten shrugged. “What we always do—live. We cook and eat, watch TV, and sleep, then we take a boat back to our cars and go to work.”
“You sleep with raging floodwaters rushing beneath your house.”
“That’s what they’re designed for.” Kirsten pointed at the container. “What’s that?”
“Salad, I felt I should contribute to the meal.”
“Well, we’ll eat yours then, and I’ll save the one I made to go with my lunches this week,” Kirsten said with a smile. “I told you not to bring anything.”
“Yeah, well, I’m told I don’t listen very well. What can I help with?”
“Just have a seat and tell me what you want to drink. I’ve got—well, I guess now you know,” Kirsten said as she watched Rusty open her fridge.
“Where’s the plates and cutlery? I’ll set the table.”
“When you’re a guest in someone’s home, you let them wait on you if they decline your offer to assist with the meal preparation.”
Rusty opened a cabinet anyway and closed it when she didn’t find what she was looking for. “I feel like we’ve already bypassed the need for such pleasantries. We’re on equal footing, and I should assist in expediting this meal. Besides, I’m hungry, big hungry.”
“The glasses are in the cabinet to your left, I’d like tea. I have the plates right here, and I’ll load them up if you approve.”
“I do,” Rusty said with a nod.
Rusty made the drinks and took out every bottle of salad dressing in the fridge and carried it all to the table. Kirsten brought the plates and went back for the salad while Rusty sought and found the cutlery. Once they were seated, Kirsten said, “Tell me about your day.”
“No, you go first. That’s fair because you’ve already listened to me talk about my life.”
Kirsten took a bite of her jambalaya and chewed slowly. She thought for a moment and said, “As you know, my dad was the former chief, and even though I’ve held the position a little over a year, everyone still treats him like he’s in charge. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not power hungry, but there are times he puts his nose into things he shouldn’t. He did that today.” Kirsten sighed. “That’s not really what I’m upset about. I’ve always had great respect for him, and I thought he’d set the standard that I was supposed to live up to. I’m learning, though, that he did things behind the scenes that weren’t admirable. Not only is that a great disappointment because it shatters my illusion of him, he expects me to do things the same way.”
Rusty’s knee-jerk reaction was to advise Kirsten to tell her dad to step back and remind him he wasn’t all that and a bag of chips. When she’d bared part of her soul, Kirsten didn’t respond by telling her what to do, and Rusty felt she shouldn’t, either. “What does he want you to do?”
“The peeping Tom thing has really blown up. For a small town full of people who have nothing better to talk about, this is really big news. The mayor wants a quick resolution, so he can look like the hero. He and my dad talk a lot, and I think that’s why Dad is pressuring me to arrest a boy who is the local troublemaker. I can’t and won’t do that because I don’t have any real evidence, but my dad basically told me I needed to trump up some charges.”
Rusty was thoughtful for a moment. “Is this something you can wait out? Won’t everyone get bored with the topic soon?”
“Yeah,” Kirsten said with a sigh. “That still doesn’t change the fact that I see my hero very differently now. It’s gonna take me a while to accept the new reality, and I don’t like it.”
“I understand, and I’m sorry.”
“Now tell me about your day,” Kirsten said before she took another bite of her dinner.
“I’m a dick. A really big ugly one.”
Kirsten covered her mouth to keep from spitting rice and chicken all over the table. She chewed quickly and swallowed. “Why do you think that?”
“Oh, I don’t think it, I know it. My mom was one too, and the little pecker didn’t fall far from the…dick tree. I loved her, she was the only family I had, but there’s a side of me that despises how mean she was. Now I am her, and I realized today that I’ve made Neil feel as shitty as I did. I’ve repeated the pattern of abuse, and I’m no better than she was despite all my efforts to be differ
ent.”
“They say that when you acknowledge a fault or a weakness, it’s the first step you make toward change.”
“I wonder if by doing that today I earned more leaves on my tree,” Rusty said glumly.
Kirsten’s brow shot up. “Okay, you’re gonna have to explain that.”
“I had the dream again last night,” Rusty admitted as she moved her salad around with her fork. “When I got to the house, there were a few new leaves on the tree, and it had buds. Mom showed up, and I asked her how it happened, and she said something weird like ‘you opened.’ I had no idea what she meant, and she wouldn’t elaborate, and that really pissed me off. I used to ask her things sometimes, especially when I needed help with homework, and she’d just stare at me and say nothing, which meant figure it out on your own. I didn’t like admitting that I needed help, especially to her, so her nonresponse always made me furious. In the dream, she wouldn’t explain what ‘opened’ meant, and I felt rage. Neil was in the dream, and he was saying things that made me angrier, and I woke up pissed off.”
Rusty set her fork down and propped her chin in her hand. “He called me this morning to tell me some good news. I didn’t want to hear that things at the office were going smoothly without me, so I just verbally swept his feet right out from under him.” Rusty blew out a breath. “He very nicely explained that I made him feel like my mother always made me feel, and that was when I realized that I’m a dick.”
Kirsten sighed. “We’re both dealing with some parental issues.”
“Yeah, but yours can be easily solved by telling your dad to step off.”
“There’s nothing easy about that,” Kirsten snapped. “A whole lifetime of belief and adoration has been flushed down the toilet.”
Rusty threw up her hands. “See, I told you, I’m a dick.”
“You don’t have to be. It won’t be easy, but you’re gonna have to restructure your thinking and how you do things. So am I.”
Rusty Logic Page 10