The Tourist Attraction (Moose Springs, Alaska #1)(21)

“Do you think I hurt him? I think I hurt him.”

A shadow of a smirk crossed Officer Jonah’s face. “Well, ma’am. If I had to say, I’d guess he’s not going to ask any women out anytime soon.”

“He asked for my number three times back there,” Zoey groaned. “I almost gave it to him too. Do you think he’s okay to drive?” Zoey twisted in her seat to stare at the Dodge truck following behind them. “He might need to go to the hospital.”

“Naw, if he needs a doc, he’ll let me know. We’ve had our fair share of tussles and bar fights around here, and Barnett always ends up in the middle of them. I doubt you gave him any worse than he’s had before.” Jonah rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Now that he’s not a few feet away from us, are you sure there isn’t anything more you want to add to your report? Anything inappropriate Mr. Barnett did?”

“No.” Frustrated, Zoey repeated the same thing she’d been telling him for the last hour. “I came out of the woods and saw him with the chainsaw. The rest was sort of instinct.”

At the raised eyebrow from the officer, Zoey bristled. “Oh no, I’m not getting any eyebrow judgment thingies from you. You know those women who are too stupid to live? I refuse to be too stupid to live. I don’t go in evil basements alone, I don’t linger in cornfields on full moons, and I’m definitely not going to let a fully mobile human being with a chainsaw chase me down and stuff my body in a steel shipping container.

“I mean, who even has steel shipping containers? In the woods?” She huffed.

“They’re common in this area, ma’am.”

“Anyone in my situation with half a brain would have disabled him. It was the right thing to do.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Seriously. It was the best call I had in the situation.”

Jonah took another drink from his bucket of Slurpee.

Sinking down in her seat, Zoey groaned into her hands. “I didn’t know I was running toward a cliff. I just saw the bad guy chasing me.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

When they pulled up to a tiny cement block building on the far side of town, Zoey watched Graham park on the street behind them. He didn’t look angry, but he did ease out of the truck with a carefulness that belied his current exuberance. Her agitation at Officer Jonah only increased as Graham grunted in discomfort upon closing the driver’s side door. How badly had she hurt him? Was he permanently damaged? Would he never have kids because of her knee-jerk reaction to defend herself in a life-and-death chainsaw situation?

“Are you okay?” she asked under her breath as he held the door for her.

An amused look was all Zoey got in reply.

Zoey didn’t think they were being arrested. She wasn’t in handcuffs in the back seat, and Graham was driving his own truck. People didn’t drive their own vehicles to jail. Then Jonah escorted them inside what must have sufficed as the Moose Springs police station: a building barely the size of a two-car garage, with only a desk, a bathroom, a small refrigerator, and a single cell.

Iron bars, corner toilet, and all.

“We don’t have an official station here in Moose Springs, ma’am.” Officer Jonah scratched his head, looking around as if uncertain of his options, and then he shrugged. “I suppose the drunk tank will have to do until we get things sorted out.”

“Get what sorted out?”

“Well, ma’am—”

“Zoey.”

A trace of annoyance crossed his face for half a second before disappearing. “Well, you and Graham—”

“Mr. Barnett,” Graham supplied cheerfully, making Zoey groan.

Unfazed, Jonah continued. “You both have conflicting stories about the events occurring this morning on Mr. Barnett’s property. I need to talk to my supervisors about what they want done. Barnett, are you pressing charges?”

Zoey felt her eyes widen. “You’re joking, right?”

“You did attack me.”

“You had a chainsaw,” she hissed. “People get ax murdered all the time.”

“But less often chainsaw murdered.” Graham seemed to be entertained by the whole situation. “The survival instinct is strong in this one. I’m lucky she didn’t kill me.”

Jonah stood there, eyed the situation, and like any other intelligent person, decided he’d rather be somewhere else.

“Why don’t you two sit in here for a while and work out your differences? I’ll just run out and get us all some lunch.”

“The diner is supposed to open at eleven,” Graham reminded Jonah.

“I’m sure no one will mind.” Taking a fresh ice pack from the station’s freezer, Jonah handed it to Graham, closed the drunk tank door, and left them there.

Alone.

Behind bars.

Together.

At least Zoey still had her cell phone in the Alaska bag she’d been allowed to keep after a quick search by the officer. They might have been inside a drunk tank, but at least she could still call for help. Theoretically. Fifteen attempts to try to connect a call through the cement block walls of the makeshift jail only left Zoey ready to screech in frustration.

“How hard is it to get service in this town?” Stuffing her cell back into her pocket, Zoey paced in front of the door.