Fireball (Cheap Thrills #1)(4)

Unable to hold it in, I burst out laughing. After the shitty morning I’d had, this was the news I’d needed to hear. Piersville was a small town outside Belton, Texas, and on the whole it was peaceful and quiet. Well, aside from the Townsends, but that family were a law unto themselves. We’d had a couple of big crime cases, but not a lot, and I could happily say thank fuck for that.

I knew exactly what had happened with Hurst and Bill today. They’d dipped into the hooch or bourbon, raced the tractor, and had gotten caught by the bull. Added onto that was the fact that Bill Richards was my Deputy Logan’s grandfather too, and he’d had the joy of arresting both the men on a couple of occasions, as had the rest of us. It was a slight conflict of interests, but Logan usually just slapped the cuffs on them, brought them in, and left the rest to us to deal with so it was ok.

“Please tell me they’re recording it?” We already had a section on our system dedicated to footage of the Townsends, and regularly had viewings in the break room. This one would have everyone coming to see it.

“Obviously,” she rolled her eyes. “Anyway, old man Beck sounded a bit strung out when he spoke to Raoul, so can you go see him?”

She tried leaning forward to show me her cleavage, but I was blind to it, just like I’d been blind to it every day since she started. You never ever shit where you sleep. People made that mistake all the time, and were left with tension, drama, or just unnecessary grief where they worked. It was unprofessional and a pain in the ass. So, no, I wouldn’t be taking her up on her offers now or ever.

Nodding, I resigned myself to another foodless lunch and headed out to my vehicle, knowing Beck would be wrong.

Turns out, on this occasion he’d actually been right. Well, kind of.





Chapter Two





DB





The front door and windows looked fine, so I walked around the side of the property to check the rest. As I passed it on my way to the back garden, I stopped to look in through the windows of the car in question. It looked like someone was either moving to a new house or living in the vehicle. Pillows, bags, boxes, an empty cup, a case of water, a bag with wrappers and napkins in it – every bit of space inside was filled.

I’d run the plates after I’d pulled up, and it had come back to a Tabitha Newton who was a resident in Bloomfield, New Jersey. With no one had answering my knocks on the front door and with Ms. Newton so far away from home, teamed with the contents of the car, it left me with a couple of possibilities.

As far as I was aware, the house was still up for sale, and from his call obviously old man Beck hadn’t been notified of any update on it either. Still, I called Rory and asked her to contact the owners, an elderly couple who’d retired to be closer to their daughter, and asked her to find out for me.

I was a Houston native and only lived in Piersville for three years. When the grind of living in a big city had started to really get to me, the level of crime exhausting the fuck outta me too, I’d taken the job as Sheriff here. My move had also been strongly motivated by things becoming strained between me and my dad, so not facing that every day made life easier. Because of this, I wasn’t really familiar with all the houses here, so I was navigating blind as I moved around the property. Continuing down the side of the house, I got to the fence that separated the back garden from the driveway and opened it. From the front of it, I never would have expected to find a garden, pool, old wooden train track sleepers and carriage wheels being used as borders for the flower beds, and a large porch. The house was beautiful from the front, but fucking outstanding from the back.

That’s when I saw the open doors and windows like someone was letting fresh air in. What burglar airs out the house? It could be a homeless person, but would they have a car packed with new boxes and bags? Doubtful, but not entirely out of the realm of possibility.

Hand on the weapon on my side, I walked carefully and quietly through the open door, scanning my surroundings with each step. Expect the unexpected wasn’t an empty saying to a member of law enforcement, it was the rule.

I was just at the entrance to what looked like a massive lounge, when I saw the flash of bright pink on the floor. I’d been so focused on looking around, that I’d missed the most obvious thing – the damn floor. I blamed the old people I’d just dealt with and all the drama that had come from the callout. We were obviously in some sort of full moon so they were acting crazily and it was driving us all out of our minds. It had to be that.

Staying where I was, I scanned the body of the woman lying on her back on the floor, arms and legs spread wide out, with pink hair which was almost the same shade as the highlighter on my desk. She didn’t appear to have any weapons, but she wasn’t moving, so there was the possibility that she was unconscious, and if she was I needed to know why. Walking over, I squatted down and quickly checked her over to make sure she had nothing dangerous on her. After that was confirmed, I dropped onto my knees and picked up her wrist to take her pulse, my eyes moving to the peacock tattoo that ran down the arm I was holding. It was intricate, done in bright colors and looked real enough that I absentmindedly rubbed my thumb over the tuft nearest to it.

Out of everything, it was that soft touch that woke her up.

“What the hell are you doing? Stranger danger, stranger danger,” she screeched, sitting upright and clipping my chin with her forehead.