“It’s the small things,” Tank muttered, heading to his desk to grab his bag. “Can ruin a man’s day, is all I’m saying.”
“Just a thought,” Cubby said, following him out the door. He was done for the day, and for the first time in a handful of them, he was leaving before it got dark. “Maybe you should make it.”
Tank looked pretty disgusted at that, so Cubby lifted a hand instead of getting into the discussion about respect, equality, and stuff like that.
“Want to play ball, shithead?”
“I could arrest you for speaking to an officer of the law in that manner, Griffin.”
Cubby rested against his cruiser as Buster ambled over.
“You could, but then who’d feed you?”
“My mom.”
“Okay, good point. So enough chatter, you want a game or not, seeing as you’re not burning the midnight oil tonight.”
“Sure, I’m feeling in the mood to dish out a butt kicking.”
“Okay, well Jake, Noah, and Newman are down at the park already I’ll pick you up at your gate in twenty.”
“Sweet.”
He drove home still thinking about the Alessis and Katie. He would need to tell her about the reward.
“Hey, Mom.” Stopping at the top of his drive, he saw his mother in his garden. She had the back house, and his was the front one.
“Hey, baby, how’s your day been?”
Her hair had turned gray, and she’d shrunk some with age. Maureen Hawker had had a tough life with her husband. She’d not let anyone see that; the Hawker family had always kept up the appearance of being a close-knit, happy unit. The truth had been very different.
Cubby had taken James Hawker’s abuse of him and his family until he’d turned sixteen, then he’d punched his father hard enough to split his lip. The next day his mother had filled out the forms for him to get a cadetship in the police force. He’d refused to leave his brother, Leigh, even when his father had tried to use force. He’d hung in there until Leigh left for college in Washington, then he’d gone to the police academy in California. He’d realized that he could do nothing for his mother because she refused to leave. He’d tried, telling her he’d support her if she left her husband, but she’d said she loved him, and it would be better with both him and Leigh gone. Cubby had worried about her, rung her every few days, but he couldn’t do more than that if she didn’t want to help herself.
Cubby had returned for his father’s funeral to support his mother and make sure the bastard was dead, and had stayed, realizing that she needed him now, because Maureen Hawker had been a broken woman.
“Yeah okay, just heading down the park to play some ball with the guys.”
“Lovely. Your flowers are looking great, all in bloom, and I put some leftovers in your fridge. It’s my bridge night tonight.”
Lifting a hand, he waved and headed into the garage. They weren’t his flowers, they were hers; he’d never touched a weed or put a drop of water on them, but it made her happy to say otherwise. She had needed someone to need her after her husband’s death, and Cubby had filled the role, and still did, nicely. His guilt over leaving her had never really eased. He’d left her at the mercy of that man, and to this day he was not sure just how much she’d suffered.
His house was small and compact. He’d taken out the fluff that his mother had put into the furnishings, and it was now a man’s house. Beige decor, big comfortable brown leather two-seater and sturdy wooden table, and a don’t-mess-with-me flat screen taking up near enough an entire wall. One of the two bedrooms had his king-size bed and other stuff; the other was an office, for when he needed to do some work from home.
It had once housed his grandparents. He’d moved in here to look out for his mom, and never moved out. It was easier on both of them to be close, and he’d never felt the need to change that. He’d bought a piece of land a few years back, just because he’d always loved that spot. It was up high in the redwoods, and looked over the lake, and one day he’d build there, he just wasn’t sure when. Maybe if Leigh ever came back.
Buster was talking to his mom when he left the house. Cubby decided not to mention the fact the bounty had gone up to Jake and the others; they knew Katie was in danger, that was enough for now.
“I know there was something fancy in the mystery muffin I ate this morning, I just haven’t figured on what yet, Buster.”
“Keep on thinking, Mrs. Hawker,” Buster said, starting the engine as Cubby got in. “I know if anyone can work it out it’ll be you.”
It was getting on to late afternoon and the sun was to their right over the lake as they drove out of town. Cubby closed his eyes, resting his head.
“Tough day, Sheriff?”
“Same shit, different day.”
“How’s Katie?”
