The phone disconnected and he stared at the screen for far too long before he pocketed the device. On the quick drive to city hall, his mind wandered to the woman who pulled more energy and attention than he ever wanted to give. They were in conflict at every turn but unlike any other enemy combatant, he’d allowed her in his bed, had willingly exposed his back, knowing she had the temperament to stab him in it. If he was being truthful with himself, which he strove to be, he’d slept better last night than…hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so soundly. Her presence most likely scared away any of the nightmares and night terrors that haunted his sleep.
He parked his cruiser and headed into the courthouse where he greeted Greta Wilson, Judge Monica Jackson’s secretary of over twenty years.
“Sheriff Stillwater,” she drawled, throwing him a knowing look. Just what the hell did she think she knew?
“Surprised seeing you today. How can I help you?”
He was at the courthouse nearly every day even on the days he was not officially on the clock. He wasn’t taking the damn bait. He nodded toward the judge’s closed door.
“Is she in?”
“Go on over to the back atrium. She’s taking in the nature and such.”
Santiago nodded and headed out to the small space between the old and newer municipal buildings. If not for the judge, the place would’ve been completely abandoned.
As he approached the space filled with sunlight, he saw the judge on a stool planting what looked to be hydrangeas while smoking a cigarette everyone in town knew she wasn’t supposed to be smoking.
“One day, your husband is gonna find you in here and you’ll be presiding over your own divorce.”
“Unless you snitch, that’ll never happen,” the gray-haired black woman said without looking up from her digging. Her judge’s robe was open, displaying her stylish purple dress and pearl necklace and bracelet. Her shoes and stockings were beside her, and her feet were bare on the soil. To many, she may seem like a contradiction, but this was just how people were in Shrouded Lake. They did their job, but they did it being themselves. Like many of those born and raised here, Judge Jackson came back home, with a husband and young child in tow at the time, wanting to give back to the community that gave her the drive and sense of self needed to move through life with pride and confidence.
“Well, Greta is loyal as they come,” he shrugged. “But me, I got certain stipulations for my discretion.”
She looked up and laughed. “That’s not whatIheard.”
Santiago shook his head. “I truly believe that woman is going to be my downfall.”
“I’ve known you since the miracle that was your birth, Santi. The only thing that will bring you down has forever been yourself, and you even survived that,” Judge Jackson said, well aware of the destructive path he’d cut through his life before he went into the navy.
“You obviously haven’t met that outrageously wicked woman in person,” he said, removing his hat and shades. He sat on theedge of the small circular fountain that had been dry for over a decade.
“You alright?” she asked, crushing her cigarette butt beneath her foot. She waved a hand in his direction. “There’s a certain...funk marring your normally dour demeanor. One would think you’d be more jovial given your extracurricular activities last night.”
“I did not have sex with that woman.”
The judge laughed. “That explains your lack of after-sex glow.”
She stood and dusted off her back side. His immediate thought was that Lauren would appreciate the judge’s fashion sense. Then he imagined her curves draped in amethyst. Brown skin glistening?—
“Stillwater?”
“I need a few warrants signed off on,” Santiago blurted, reining in his imagination.
He presented his case and pulled the warrants he and the ADA, Denver Ferre, worked on. He watched patiently as the judged signed off on each one.
“You don’t have enough on your plate with the Willoby murder?” she asked, handing him back his pen and folder of papers.
“Turns out my plate is massive and I’m a greedy bastard when it comes to justice.”
“Is that what Ms. Green said?” Her peel of laughter softened the edge of frustration he felt with always being linked to Lauren.
“I don’t know why you people think I give a flying fig about what that woman says.”
“I heard she tased the mayor.”
“After he attacked her,” he defended without thought. He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I don’t know what’s happening. It’s like the people in this town have jumped the tracks and are careening toward a fiery end.”
