That struck Ross as odd. “You mean Eric didn’t?”
“Cross? Fuck no! Tank hated him from the first time he laid eyes on the guy. He’s a tick turd if ever there was one.” That made Ross laugh. “I mean, I can’t stand to be around him, and I have no idea what Carly saw in him. Not a clue.”
“Me neither, and whatever it was, she sure isn’t seeing it now.”
“Okay, so do me a favor, please?” Michael stood and rolled his eyes a little. “Please call Aunt Debra and tell her about this before she calls me and gets me in the middle of it, okay?”
“I will. I’ll call her when I get to Carly’s. I should’ve already done that, and no—that wouldn’t be fair of me to put you right in the middle of this.”
“If she doesn’t hear from you, she’ll call me. And if I don’t tell her the truth, she and Uncle Sean will get in the car and drive down here. You know I’m right on that.”
“Yep. They will. But listen, thanks, man. Thanks for giving me a place to crash. Hey, if I do some stupid, boneheaded, guy-type thing and Carly kicks me to the curb, I may be back!” Ross said, laughing.
Michael’s eyes twinkled with laughter. “You’re a McEvers. I’d say the odds of that are pretty good!”
On his way to Carly’s, Ross stopped at the store and bought a few things. As soon as he got there, he got started. The instructions on the cake mix weren’t too hard to follow, and he had it in the oven in about twenty minutes. Thank god for frozen chicken parmesan. That would go in the oven later, with store-bought spaghetti sauce on top and a nice pre-made salad. No, it wasn’t a feast set out by a celebrity chef, but they wouldn’t starve. It had taken him a few minutes to find the things he needed, but he managed. Of course, the first thing he’d done when he came into the house was check the laundry room, where he found a load of clothes in the washer. The dryer was humming along, and by the time the cake was finished, the clothes could be hung and put away. He tossed a load of towels in, complete with one of those paper sheets that trapped excess dye, and hit the button to let the washer fill, then headed to the bedroom to unpack.
While he worked, he tossed his phone onto the bed, hit a contact, and turned the speaker on so he could talk while he worked. After only a couple of rings, a feminine voice sang out, “Hi, son!”
“Hey, Mom! How’s it going?”
“I should be asking you that! Haven’t heard from you since you got there except for that ‘I’m here!’ text. Doing okay?”
“Yeah. Michael’s place is really nice. I gave a talk at the fire department too.”
“How’d that go?”
“Very well, I think. Everybody in the department has been super nice to me. I’ve met a lot of nice people. The community had an appreciation party for them and they tapped me to be in the dunking booth.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun! Did you get wet?”
“Yeah, by a girl. She’s got one helluva throwing arm, that one.”
There was silence for a second or two before she said, “And did she throw you a bone? And you ran after it and brought it back?”
He chuckled. “You don’t miss much, do you?”
“Nope. Never have. I’m a mom. Reading between the lines is a necessity.”
“Then yeah, she did, and I did. Her name’s Carly, and you’d like her a lot. She reminds me a lot of you.”
Debra McEvers let out a loud laugh. “Oh, lord. I’m surprised you’d even go out with her then!”
“You know you were my first girlfriend. All the other women in my life have had to measure up to you, and only two of them have.”
“Would she approve?”
A little sinking feeling filled Ross’s chest. “Yeah, I think she would. If she’d met Carly, they would’ve been good friends.”
A snort came from the other end of the phone. “Well, that’s a lot better than that Jenkins girl.”
“That Jenkins girl was trouble from the get-go, and I knew it. Why I went on with that, I don’t know, but it almost took me down.”
“Don’t I know it. Those Jenkinses have always been trouble, son. You knew that. So Carly … What does she do? Nurse? Teacher?”
“Deputy sheriff.”
“Oh-ho-ho! A woman who can keep you in line! I like it!” Debra was laughing loudly.
“Yeah. I think she could take me down if she wanted to. She’s not big, but she’s sure stout. We were wrestling around on the bed the other night after we …” Debra cleared her throat. “Oh. You probably don’t want to hear about that, huh?”
“I know y’all do it, but I don’t need the details, okay? That’s kinda creepy, Ross.”
It was his turn to laugh. “I guess so! But yeah, she could definitely put the hurt on me.”
“Good. Is this a developing relationship, or something that’s just a fling until you come home?”
Oh, yeah. He’d known she’d ask that. He just hadn’t thought she’d go for it so quickly. “We don’t know yet. We both want it to last, but we’re kinda at an impasse when it comes to who’s going to be where. But her brother wants her to go to Kentucky with me.”
“No shit?”
“Yeah. Bad ex situation.”
“Oh. Gotcha. Anything you can’t handle?”
“Nope. Got it under control.”
“What about her parents? What do they say?”
“Haven’t met them yet, but if they’re anything like Tank, it’ll be fine.”
“Tank. Another one of those firefighter nicknames, huh? What’s his real name?”
Ross laughed. “You know, I have no idea! Haven’t even asked!”
“You probably should.”
“I’ve got a lot to learn about her and her family, but all in good time. Right now, I know everything I need to know. She’s the one for me. There’s no doubt about that.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Me too. Hey, I’ve got a cake baking and the washer’s going, so―”
“Ross? Ross McEvers? You have a cake baking and the washer going? Are you kidding me? That girl done warped your mind, son! You’re either in love or you’ve got brain damage!”
“Probably a little of both. But I need to get off here and finish what I’m doing. I just wanted to call you before you called Michael and he had to play stupid. I mean, it’s so easy for him, but―”
“Oh, hahaha. Don’t tease your cousin. If you see your Uncle Patrick and Aunt Nora, tell them I said hello and we’ll get down to see them as soon as we can.”
“Will do, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you too, son. Take care of yourself and call me again soon, okay? I miss you running in and out of here, mooching my food and dropping off clothes to be washed without asking first.”
That really set Ross laughing. “How did I know that was coming? Okay, Mom. I’ll give you a call in a week or so. Tell Dad I love him and I’ll talk to him soon.”
“Will do, son. Bye.”
“Bye, Mom.” Well, that went a lot better than I anticipated, he told himself as he went on folding and hanging up clothes. His parents had always been supportive, even if they hadn’t liked his choice of vocation. That was something to hang onto.
He’d just taken the cake out of the oven when there was a knock on the door. Before he could set it down, the knocking turned to pounding, and he got the distinct impression he wasn’t going to like what he found when he opened that door. With that in mind, he set his phone’s camera to video, propped it up nearby where it could record the door but out of the line of sight from that spot. As soon as he hit the red button to record, he called out, “Who’s there?”
The pounding stopped and he wondered if who he thought it was had left. But it started again, this time with a voice. “Who’s in there? I’ll call the cops if you broke in!”
Ross yanked the door open and there stood a man, his face red and his hair disheveled, his fist raised to pound on the door again. “Whoa, buddy! What the fuck? You need something?” Ross asked in his most i
nnocent voice.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Who the fuck are you?” he countered.
“My wife lives here!” the red-faced man yelled.
“Nope. The woman who lives here is single. You must have the wrong address.” He started to close the door, but the man shoved a foot into it. “Oh, come on, man. That’s not cool. Pretty fucking aggressive.”
“This is my wife’s house! You need to get the hell out! How did you get in here?”
Ross smiled and did his best to sound as sarcastic as possible. “Um, a key?”
That just made the guy even madder. “I don’t believe you!”
“Doesn’t matter. None of your business anyway. Now move your foot or I’ll be forced to slam the door on it, and that’ll probably hurt like hell.”
“Get your ass out here and―”
“Eric, right?” Ross asked with a tiny grin.
“Yes! Eric Cross! Her husband!”
“Hmmm. Yeah—you’re every bit as much of an asshole as she said.” Eric drew his fist back, and Ross said, “Uh-uh-uh. You do that and I’ll have to hit you back. And you really, really don’t want that, I promise.”
Through clenched teeth, Eric hissed, “You really want me to beat the hell out of you?”
Ross just laughed, which he could tell made Eric even madder. “Hope you’ve got an army, because that’s what it’ll take.” He’d already taken stock of Eric. The guy was as tall as Ross, but had about half his bulk through the chest and arms, most of which had settled at his waist. Fighting the guy wouldn’t be fair, Ross knew, because he wouldn’t even be able to move fast enough, much less fight back.
“Oh, you want an army? I can get an army. No problem.”
“I’m sorry you’re so upset. I baked Carly a cake, and I’m in the process of cooking her some dinner. I’d invite you in, but there’s just enough for the two of us.”
Eric sputtered a bit before he said, “Don’t worry! I’ll be back!”
“Oh, I’m not worried at all,” Ross called after him as he headed down the walk. “I’ll just be in here, doing Carly’s laundry and running Carly’s vacuum cleaner. No worries. Come back anytime.” The guy slammed his car door shut and squealed away from the curb with Ross still grinning.
“I think that went well,” he told himself as he turned off the video recording on his phone, then went back to cleaning up his mess in the kitchen. The buzzer went off on the dryer and he’d just finished hanging everything up when there was another knock on the door. “You have got to be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath as he headed that direction. Just as before, he set up his phone, started the recording, and opened the door. “You just … Well, hello there, sheriff. What can I do for you?”
“I got a call that there was an intruder here.”
Ross looked around behind him in the house, trying hard not to grin. “Nope. Nobody here but me.”
“And you belong here?”
“Uhhh, well, if you mean am I supposed to be here, yep. I have a key given to me by the owner.” The sheriff’s face was reddening, and Ross was delighted with himself. God, he was stirring up trouble, and it felt good! Even better, it was effortless. Those numb nuts were doing all the work.
“And what are you doing here?”
“Well, let’s see. In the time I’ve been here, I’ve baked a cake, done two loads of laundry, vacuumed the floors, and I’m in the process of putting dinner together.”
The sheriff stood there, and Ross wondered what he’d come up with next. “You realize you’re treading on dangerous territory, son.”
Ross shrugged. “I have a feeling the state police wouldn’t feel the same way.”
“And you plan to call them?”
“I won’t unless I have to, but yeah—if I have to, I will.” Back me into a corner and watch me come out swinging, asshole, Ross thought.
“What if I told you Eric Cross actually owns this house and you have no right to be here?”
“What if I told you I’d have to see the paperwork and possession is nine-tenths of the law?”
Anderson stood there, facing Ross, and gripped his service belt with both hands. “Look, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
“I’m aware of that. The easy way would be for you to just get off this porch, take yourself back to your cruiser, and wave as you drive away. Otherwise, things are going to get messy, and we don’t really need that, now do we?” No way would Ross back down an inch. He could tell if he did, they’d walk all over him in the future and he’d be screwed.
“You’re not from around here, are you, son?”
Ross shook his head. “Nope.”
“What exactly are you doin’ here then?”
“Vacationing?” he answered as more of a question, knowing it would come off as a smartass answer. That was exactly what he wanted.
“Vacationing? In Tarpley? You here to cause trouble, son?”
“Trouble? In Tarpley? Nah. Compared to where I come from, Tarpley doesn’t have a way for a boy to get into that much trouble.”
“Where exactly are you from?”
“Corbin, Kentucky. You probably know some of my relatives here—the McEvers?”
Ross was unprepared for the way the color drained from the sheriff’s face and his eyes widened. “You’re a McEvers?”
“Yep. Seamus McEvers’ boy, Ross. You probably know my cousin, Michael. I’m staying with him. Well, I was, until I met the lovely Carly. We’re not living together, but we’re definitely―”
“Michael’s on the volunteer fire department with Tank.”
“That’s correct.” Aha. Whatever it is that Tank’s got on him, he’s pretty fucking scared. Let’s see how far I can push. “I hear Tank knows you pretty well.” He hadn’t thought the sheriff’s face could get any paler, but apparently it could. The mere mention of Tank left him white as a sheet.
“And how does Tank feel about you seeing his little sister?” Anderson’s voice was cracking and Ross loved it.
“He’s all for it. Wished me well. Gave me his blessing. Sooo, you wanna check with him? And quit pestering me? Because, for what it’s worth, I have no intention of letting you or, as Tank calls him, ‘fuckstick Eric,’ chase me away. Won’t happen. Eric wants to bring an army. I assume that’s you. And I have an army of my own. I really don’t want to go to battle, but I will if I have to, and I do believe I have a secret weapon.”
That was all it took. “I’ll have a talk with Carly at the office and straighten all this out. And I’ll let you get back to whatever the hell it was that you were doing. Goodnight, Mr. McEvers.”
“Goodnight, sheriff. Have a great evening.” Ross closed the door and watched Chuck Anderson climb into his cruiser and drive away. Then he bent down in front of his phone, looked into the camera, and said, “And that’s how Kentucky boys do it, folks.”
In ten minutes, dinner was in the oven and the cake was cool enough for him to slap on the canned frosting he’d bought. He might get a C for his cooking skills, but he’d sure as hell get an A+ for effort.
“Unit eighteen, come in.”
Carly picked up the mic, but she was already dreading pressing the button. What the hell did her asshole boss want? “Unit eighteen responding, over.”
“Unit eighteen, come by the office before end of shift. Over.”
“Roger that. Unit eighteen, out.” Oh, just fucking spectacular. He’s going to ream my ass over something. Wonder what made-up travesty I’ve committed this time? The sour feeling in the pit of her stomach just grew, and Carly dreaded the drive there. She had fifteen minutes before she was off watch, and she hoped that would be enough for him to chew her out and still be able to get home in a decent length of time.
The SUV cruiser pulled up to a stop in front of the building and Carly hopped out, thinking the sooner she got it over with, the less dread she’d have. It seemed no one was around when she opened the front door and strode in, but a voice from somewhere
in the back said, “Cross? Is that you?”
“Yes, sir. It’s me.”
“Come on back.”
She made her way through the fluorescent-lit room to the little hallway in the back and down two doors. “You wanted to see me?”
“Have a seat. Want some coffee?”
She shook her head. “Nope, but thanks.” Something was going on, she could tell, but there was no hint what it might be. He seemed subdued, maybe even a little nervous, and that didn’t make sense.
After what seemed like forever, he said, “Do you know why you’re here?”
“No, sir.”
“So you haven’t talked to your house guest?”
“Uh, no, sir. He’s not my house guest. He’s staying with his cousin. He’s just at my house, uh …”
“I don’t need an explanation, Cross. I just need you to know that you were right. What you do in your off time is none of my business, as long as you’re not breaking the law or disrespecting the badge. Mr. McEvers seems―”
“Wait. ‘Mr. McEvers seems …?’ You went to my house?”
“It was merely a courtesy for―”
“A courtesy? For whom?”
“I had a report of a break-in, and I checked it out. I found the report to be unfounded, and I―”
Carly was seething. “Are you going to charge the person who reported it with filing a false report?”
“No. It was made in good faith.”
“Good faith? Do you hear yourself? Good faith? It wasn’t made in good faith. It was made in an attempt to intimidate me and my friend, and I don’t appreciate that one bit! You’re worried about me disrespecting the badge? Oh, that’s rich!”
“Carly. Stop. Just listen to me.” When she calmed down enough to hear what he was saying, his words shocked her. “I was wrong. I won’t bother you anymore. And I’m sorry I’ve given you shit jobs and harassed you. You’re a good deputy, probably the best I’ve got. I heard about how you handled that situation with Sandra Wilcox’s kids the other day. You always try to be professional while still being warm and human, and I have respect for that. So carry on, deputy.” Then he sat back in his chair and tented his fingers over his midsection.
She sat there, stunned, trying to formulate something to say and coming up empty. Finally, she stammered out, “Uh, well, okay then. Thank you. I’m going home now. Goodnight.”
Fighting For Carly Page 9