One Look: A grumpy, single dad small town romance(68)

Worry swirled in my stomach. “What do you mean some kids at the Sand Dollar? What kids?”

Cass only shrugged, and I stood. “Excuse me, Tootie? What’s going on?”

She turned from the tense discussion she was having with Bug and a few other ladies.

“This is getting out of control.” Mrs. Fritz shook her head. “People are going to stop coming to Outtatowner if it becomes a town that isn’t safe. Where people are fighting on the beach where families are trying to enjoy our town!”

Tootie stepped forward and gripped my shoulders. “There was trouble at the beach. It may have been one of Wyatt’s boys, but I’m not certain.”

Oh no.

Dread pooled in my stomach, and I could feel the blood drain from my face. I needed to call him—warn him if one of the boys had gotten into trouble.

After I pulled my phone from my pocket, I saw a slew of missed texts from Joey.

Shit.

Joey



We need help.





Don’t tell Coach.





Kev and Mike got arrested. I don’t know what to do.





This wasn’t good. Double shit.

I grabbed my bag and headed straight for the door. “I have to go,” I called out to no one in particular.

Once there, I looked left and then right. I had no idea where the police station was. Across the road, I spotted Bootsy and called out to him.

I ran up, breathless.

“Is there a fire?” He looked concerned and his eyes darted around.

“No, I’m sorry. But there is an emergency. Where is the police station?”

Bootsy raised a weathered finger and pointed down the side street. “Head that way. I saw a mess of Kings arguing outside. You be careful, with you being a Sullivan and all.”

I took off running before I could let his words truly sink in. “I owe you! Tomorrow—lunch on me. You just pick the place!”

I raced down the sidewalk without looking back and headed the few blocks toward the police station. A small crowd was already gathering outside the entryway. I recognized Sylvie and a few of the King men, but no Sullivans.

Sylvie offered me a terse, sad smile, but she was tucked behind a wall of Kings. When their accusing eyes raked over me, I straightened and calmed my breathing. If I had to represent the Sullivans, I’d do it with my head held high. Moving through them, I opened the door to the station and immediately saw Joey sitting in a brown leather chair, his shoulders slumped and one leg bobbing up and down.

After the bell on the door caught his attention, he looked at me and shot to his feet. “Lark.”

I ran to him, pulling him into an awkward hug. “I’m so sorry. I just got your messages. What happened?”

Joey shook his head. “We were working. Everything was fine. Then we saw Kevin shove some guy on the beach, and they started fighting. Michael stepped in. I would have jumped in there, but I couldn’t get hit in the face.”

I shook my head and couldn’t worry about Joey and his precious face.

I moved to the counter. “Excuse me? Can I speak with someone about Kevin Williams and Michael Thompson?”

The elderly receptionist nodded. “You kin?”

“Um . . . they are in my care.”

She pursed her lips and my heart sank. Both Kevin and Michael were adults. I wasn’t certain anyone would talk to me, especially given the fact that it seemed like they were in serious hot water with the Kings.

“I’ll send an officer out.”

After what felt like an eternity, a female police officer with long black hair and a smug smile called me back to her office.

“Stay here.” I pointed at the chair, and Joey sank into it. When I followed the officer and walked into her office, my eyes scanned down to her name plate.

Amy King.

Crap.

Her hard eyes held my worried ones. “Hi, I’m Lark Butler. Michael and Kevin have been staying with Wyatt Sullivan, and I’m his, um, personal assistant. The boys have kind of been in my care. Can I ask what happened?”

“You are aware they are adults, correct?”

I swallowed hard and tried to make light of the situation. “I mean, if you can call any nineteen or twenty-year-old boy an adult, then sure . . .” I laughed.

Officer Amy King did not find me amusing. She only lifted an eyebrow as the ice in her stare chilled my bones.

I cleared my throat. “Are they okay?”

“Miss Butler, those boys were involved in a physical altercation on public property. I have several witnesses that report Michael Thompson assaulted—”

“Assaulted?”

Her voice dripped with impatience. “Yes. Assault. That is the charge being brought against them.”

“Charges? Oh no. No no no. I’m sorry.” I smoothed my palms on her desk as I tried to wrap my head around the situation rapidly spiraling out of control “What is happening?”

“The boys in your care? They assaulted a man. Broke his nose and caused a very frightening scene on a very public beach.”

My breaths were helpless little pants.

This is bad. Really, really bad. “What can I do?”

Officer King let go of the folder she was holding, and it dropped to her desk with a plop. “Unless you can convince Lucian King, the guy with the mangled face, to not press charges? Nothing.”