“Whereas yours is full of khaki and denim.”
“It’s my uniform; besides, I’ll be working.”
“Not all night. you won’t.”
“I can’t party when the murderer of those girls hasn’t been found.”
“Cubby, I know how hard you’re working on this, just as Jilly and Melanie’s families do. A few hours with your friends and girl will be good for you.”
“She is not my girl.” Cubby kept his voice even.
Newman smiled. “She should be.”
He didn’t need this conversation now, not on top of the talk with HRH and his behavior with Katie in the barn.
“Katie and I are friends who enjoy spending time together.”
“Okay.” Newman got to his feet. “See you tomorrow.”
And just like that, he was leaving. Cubby didn’t offer to drive him home, instead following him out to listen to his soft whistle as he began the long walk home. Newman liked to walk at night, it was his thing, especially if he’d had a few drinks. He said it was enlightening; his friends thought him unbalanced.
Leaving the dishes in the sink, Cubby shut off the lights, stripped off his clothes, and climbed into bed and tried not to think of Katie and who she was with.
He’d been asleep two hours before Lou Reeder, neighbor to the Finlay brothers, called to say he’d woken to the sound of gunshots a few minutes ago. The next call was from an irate father. Pissed off that he couldn’t even grab a few hours of much-needed sleep, he swung his legs out of bed.
“This time, I’m not playing nice,” Cubby said, pulling on his clothes. Leaving the house minutes later, he decided that tonight may be a good night to haul in the four Finlay brothers for a night on the taxpaying citizens of Howling, locked away nice and tight in his cells. He texted Tank, telling him where he’d gone and why, in case something went down while he was there.
Katie had enjoyedher night out at the Howler. After her initial surprise at seeing Kurt had eased, and he’d apologized to her for his behavior in LA, they talked about Jessie, and how much he missed her, and that he was sorry for taking his pain out on Katie. He’d told her he was taking a break from work, and coming to see her was something he’d known he needed to do. It surprised her how easy things had seemed between them after they’d cleared the air. He’d never be someone she’d call a friend, but at least now they could work together in harmony.
Where before she’d loved the houseboat’s solitude, tonight it felt lonely. Now she was wide awake instead of sleepy. Grabbing a bottle of water, she sat out on the deck, hoping like hell Cubby would come by or she’d start yawning. Neither happened, and after she heard the gunshots, they weren’t likely to. Putting a call through to Cubby didn’t get her anything but a busy signal.
Pocketing the gun Jake had given her, Katie left the houseboat. The air was cool, and her eyes soon adjusted as she walked down the road. There wasn’t the noise of LA. No traffic or people, no fast-food places or car horns, so she could hear the muted sounds of raised voices and music, and knew instantly where they were coming from. The Finlays lived up a road not far from here. She felt her anger climb. They had no respect for their neighbors or the fact the town was mourning two of its children. Of course, it wasn’t her business if they were discharging weapons, as long as no one was in danger and no innocents were involved, Katie told herself. Just as she’d talked herself into turning around, she saw the taillights of Cubby’s cruiser turn up the drive.
Was he alone or did he have one of his deputies with him? Katie’s feet kept her moving until she reached the drive. She didn’t allow herself time to think, just walked up it. Keeping to the shadows, she stayed hidden, creeping along the tree line until she had the house in her sight. She crouched and watched, listened to the voices.
“Fuck off, Sheriff, you got no right to come on my property.”
The Finlay property sat on stilts, the paint chipped, but other than that not in too bad a condition, but it was the car bodies and parts, trash, and debris that littered the place that were hard on the eyes.
She could see that idiot, Mitch, standing on his deck waving a bottle down at Cubby, who had his hands on his hips, head thrown back looking up.
“I had a complaint from Bessie Lowell that you and Brodie showed up at her house and started banging on her door, yelling dirty words and suggestive comments. The second complaint said you’ve been discharging a firearm.”
Cubby sounded calm, but his voice had enough force to reach her clearly.
“She’s a lying whore like all of them.” Mitch stumbled and nearly toppled over the railing, but managed to save himself. “And me and my brothers can fire our guns whenever the fuck we like on our property.”
“You’re an idiot, Finlay,” Cubby said. “You fall, I’m not catching you.”
“Who you talking to, Mitch?”
Katie watched Brodie, Pete, and Josh Finlay come outside and join their brother. All had drinks in their hands and she guessed that like Mitch, they were wasted. Shame washed over her as she realized she’d probably looked like that drunk.
“The Sheriff’s paying us a visit, boys. Seems we’ve had complaints about firing a gun and that bitch Bessie.”
“Yeah, maybe we should go down and greet him proper like,” Pete said, heading for the stairs. The others followed.
“Move, Cubby, get back in your cruiser,” Katie whispered. She could feel it, trouble was in the air.
