"The pay is too good to turn down." Tim shrugs.
"After seeing your place, I'm starting to think you're rich." Leave it to a kid to blurt shit like that out.
I have kept a low profile when it comes to the wealth that I have. It is family wealth that was inevitably passed down from one generation to the next. I have donated a significant portion of it and continue to do so. The interest alone on it is insane.
After my father's death, I wasn't sure what I was going to do with all his shit. I started selling properties off. Then when I met Kindred, I saw another purpose for it. My father could go fuck himself. I endured him for years; I was taking my dues and turning it into a real family. One that wouldn't have his last name connected to it.
"You can't say that shit, Tins." Tim shakes his head at her. "He was in the Army. Those guys have nest eggs when they come out."
"That’s bigger than a nest egg. I think the sheriff might be a golden goose popping out golden eggs.”
“I do have a few pickups you can do if you want.” I pull out a notepad from my desk and jot down the details of them and hand it over. I don’t mind paying the kids to do some errands. As they said, I have the money. Plus, giving them these little tasks will allow me to focus more attention on Kindred.
"Does Kindred know you moved her into your mansion?" Tinsley leans up against my desk, making herself right at home. There’s really no getting anything past her. She’s as sharp as a whip.
"She's moving in with you?" Beckett asks.
"Hey, this is townie business," Tinsley snips at her.
"How old are you?" Beckett responds with a sourpuss expression taking over her face.
"Fourteen." Tinsley holds up her fingers, wiggling them all before flashing four. "In case you can't count that high."
"I'll have you know I'll be moving here very soon."
Tinsley turns to her brother. "Are they just letting anyone move here now? We already got this one we're breaking in." She points her thumb toward me.
This isn't going anywhere good. “Here is the list.” It’s my grocery order and a few items I called in to local shops for gifts. I already got Kindred a handful of items, but knowing this Christmas she’ll be waking up next to me, I want there to be a plentiful amount of gifts. This is the first Christmas I have ever looked forward to.
"Got it." Tinsley takes the paper and practically skips out, leaving her ride and brother standing here.
"Sorry," he tells Beckett. "You're on her shit list. Good luck getting off of it,” Tim adds before following his sister.
"That was rude," she mutters under her breath.
"And that is what I mean. You think it doesn't mean shit that you're on her shit list. It does. It will spread." I leave out that it most certainly already has. People around here don’t take too kindly to strangers as it is. Sure, they deal with the tourists just fine, but that’s because they know they’re temporary.
"People are going to take what a teenager says seriously?"
"That one, yeah. This is a small town. You'll get yourself iced out."
"That's why you bend the rules for all of them." I can't do this with her anymore, and I'm done trying to explain it to her. I'm sure whatever place she has found to rent will fall through in a few days. I'll also be sending her back and saying Beckett isn't a fit for New Hope, but not until I'm sure it's not her fucking with Kindred.
It's disappointing. If I were to have a fellow officer in town, I would prefer her to be female so that she could handle more delicate calls if the need arises.
I don't bother to respond to her and get back to the important task at hand: going over the information that I have been able to dig up today on Beckett. With the holiday just a couple of days away, everyone is taking their time in responding to me.
What I can do is pull up the hardware stores in the surrounding towns and reach out, asking if anyone has bought red spray paint in the last couple of days. That's how I spend the rest of my day, and get a couple of hits from a few stores who said they'll see if they can pull camera footage and receipts if they were paid with a card to get the name and get back to me. It’s not much, but at least it’s a start.
An alert goes off, letting me know Kindred has left Town Hall and isn't headed toward the mayor's house. I pull out my phone to text her. We had a deal, but as I start typing, a text from her pops up.
Cupcake:I'm headed your way.
That is followed with a slew of emojis. They start off sweet and I believe turn dirty, but I'm no emoji expert.
Me:I'll come get you.
I don't want her coming down to the station today, near Beckett. There is no reason for it.
