Page 11

“I’ll miss you more, kid,” I muttered just as the door opened.

Violet stood in the doorway, her brown hair a mess on her head and her eyes tired as she looked between the two of us. “Why are you here so early?” she asked, her voice gravelly from sleep.

Theo stepped around her, pushing her teenage daughter back into the house. “Ignore her, she’s not a morning person,” Theo explained. Violet was her spitting image with their deep brown hair and icy blue eyes. Theo crouched down in front of River. “I have some pancakes for you and a spot next to August.”

He smiled softly and let go of my hand—rather begrudgingly—before stomping into Theo’s house, his light-up sneakers sparkling with each step. Theo laughed lightly, watching him walk toward her kitchen.

“Mad again today?”

I stuffed my hands into my jeans pockets. “I swear he’s already entering his angsty teenage years… he’s only four.”

Theo let out another laugh and patted me on the shoulder. “He’s a good kid, and he’s got a good dad.”

I mulled over her words as I said my goodbyes, hopped back into my car, and drove the short distance to the office. I wanted to be a good dad—the dad he deserved—but I always felt like I was coming up short. Being a parent really made you hyper-aware of all your faults, and I was doing my best to not let those faults affect River. I couldn’t help but wonder if I wasn’t doing enough.

I sighed, shaking off the thoughts, and parked my car in front of the office. Not only was I early today, I was the first one here.

I sat on the hood of my SUV, waiting for Goldie to arrive.

The sun was still steadily rising when she rounded the corner to the office and stopped in her tracks when her eyes landed on me.

“Lexington?” she asked, surprised.

I nodded and saluted… which was a choice, but I wasn’t sure how to act around her. “Hey, boss. Ready to go?”

She looked between me, the car, and glanced at her watch. “You’re thirty minutes early.” It wasn’t a question, but more of a statement laced with confusion.

I nodded. “You were right. I was using River as an excuse. Plus, I wanted to avoid rush hour, so I figured we could get an early start.”

She stared at me in wonder for a beat. The sunrise peeked through the clouds for just a moment, a beam of golden light hitting her just right.

Golden Goldie.

I chuckled to myself, but not quietly enough.

“What’s so funny?” she asked with a tilt of her head, stepping out of the ray of light and toward the car. I hopped off the hood as she approached and went to the passenger door, opening it for her.

“Nothing, really,” I brushed off. She slid past me and into my passenger seat, eyeing me warily. I didn’t think she would appreciate my thoughts on her name and was hoping she would let it go.

I closed her door with a soft click of the latch, rounded the hood, and slid behind the wheel. “It’s about an hour and a half drive,” I explained and reached into the back seat, handing her my folder. Goldie was always deferring to paper and pen over the computers for her notes. I wanted to show her I was trying to meet her in the middle and handed over my transcribed notes. “Want to read through these while I drive so we’re on the same page?”

She continued to stare at me, perplexed, but took the folder with a slight nod. Maybe I should have been offended that my preparation was so shocking it left her speechless, but there was no point in dwelling. I was going to show her I was serious. I smiled to myself and started the car, pulling onto the road and toward the small town of Cherrytree Hills.

Lexington

The drive was easy and faster than expected. Once we were out of Eugene, there were barely any cars. We wound through trees and forests until we were in their depths, surrounded by towering pines that blocked that sky from our view.

Goldie didn’t speak much throughout the drive. I kept myself entertained, playing music on the radio while I drove. She asked me questions about my notes periodically, would hum in response when I answered, and scribbled on the page. I was dying to know what she was writing, but I wouldn’t have a chance until we arrived.

The lead-in to the town was an empty black ribbon of highway. From the ten-mile marker to the municipal line, there was nothing but us and a canopy of suffocating trees casting long, skeletal shadows across the hood of the car. When the town materialized out of the shadows, its rustic aesthetic held a warning. The air felt heavy, charged with caution. As we rolled slowly down the avenue, the cold gazes of the townspeople locked onto us. They knew we didn't belong. To them, we weren't just outsiders—we were a threat to whatever peace they were trying to protect.

“I was thinking we should go to the sheriff’s office first.” I glanced quickly at Goldie, who was looking out the windshield, a lost look in her eyes. “Goldie?”

“Huh?” she asked and shook her head slightly, physically bringing herself back into focus on our conversation. “The sheriff’s office sounds good. I think it should be just up ahead on the right.”

I nodded and followed her directions, surprised she had memorized the town’s makeup in preparation, but I wasn’t shocked. One thing I was learning about her: she was always overly prepared. I pulled the SUV into one of the spots in front of the police station. I put the car in park and jumped out, rounding the hood and opening Goldie’s door. She jumped when it opened and whipped her gaze to me in surprise. “Uh… hi?”

I laughed lightly and motioned for her to jump out. “Just being a gentleman, boss.”