Wild Secret
phone for missed calls or texts, but he hadn't replied.I pulled Faye aside. "Do I need to be concerned about him?"
She shrugged.
"Look, I know it's none of my business, but it's sort of my business. What's going on with you two?”
She stared me down for a moment, took a deep breath, then let out a long exhale. "Okay, look… I like Crash. I really do. But he’s trying to move this thing along way too fast. I mean, he professed his love for me the other day. How am I supposed to respond to that?"
"Crash is a good guy."
"I know he is." She frowned. "I feel terrible. I'm just not ready for a relationship yet. It’s too much for me to think about at the moment. I want to play my bass, have fun, and I don't want to answer to anybody. I don't want to become somebody's possession. I don't want to have to pick up the phone when I don't want to pick up the phone."
"I get it. You're young. This is the time of your life."
“It is. I told him I wasn't ready for a committed relationship, and that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. We haven't spoken since. I think he's probably pretty hurt and pissed off." She frowned again. “You met my last boyfriend. Complete jerk. Controlling, manipulative, cheater. I'm just not in a position where I can get vulnerable again."
"Don't project your last boyfriend onto Crash. He's not that guy."
"I know. I know.”
"I get it. If you don't get close, you don't get hurt."
She nodded.
"But don't let a good thing pass you by because you're scared.”
Her face twisted as she thought about it. "I know. You're right. But I just can't fall in love on someone else's timeline. I really like Crash. Like, a lot. But I can't say that I'm in love with him right now. That's not to say that I might not be in the future. But I just want to take things one day at a time and see how it goes. I mean, I'm not that girl that you give me one good orgasm and I'm head over heels. Doesn't work like that for me."
I chuckled. “As long as you guys are straight up with each other. That's all you can do. Just don’t play games. Don't lead him on. Don't break his heart."
"I already broke his heart." Her face crinkled with disappointment. She was silent for a long moment. "You really care about these guys, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do. This little band of misfits is like a second family to me. And JD is like a brother."
Faye smiled, “They’re lucky to have you looking out for them."
She lifted her glass, and we toasted.
“One more show,” she said.
"One more show."
We sipped our whiskey.
"You’re gonna be so glad when I'm gone, aren't you?" she muttered.
"I'm eternally thankful for what you’ve done for the band, and I’m in awe of your talent."
"A diplomatic answer."
I smiled. “I’m looking forward to things getting back to normal."
She laughed. "Normal? Is there such a thing, really?"
I chuckled. "No. You're probably right.”
“You give good advice,” JD said, having caught the tail end of it. “Maybe you should listen to yourself?”
I rolled my eyes.
My phone buzzed my pocket. I snatched the device and looked at the screen. It had to be bad news. I answered the call, and the sheriff grumbled through gritted teeth. His voice was tight, almost on the verge of breaking up. “I need you and JD to get over to the corner of Sunbeam and Pearl ASAP! Officer down.”
My stomach twisted with dread, and I grimaced. I didn’t even want to ask who.
“Chuck Atwood’s been shot.”
“We’re on it. What condition is he in?”
9
The area swarmed with patrol units and first responders. Red and blue lights flickered. Just about every deputy in the department was on the scene. Sunbeam Street had two lanes each way, divided by a median. Homes on either side were set off from the street with a brick wall and lots of foliage. I hoped that someone had seen or heard something.
JD parked the Porsche at the curb. We hopped out and weaved through the sea of first responders.
Chuck's body lay on the asphalt near his patrol car, both riddled with bullets. Crimson soaked his polyester uniform.
He wasn't breathing anymore.
EMTs and paramedics had attempted to revive him, but Chuck was long gone by the time they arrived.
Bullet holes dotted the door and quarter panel of his patrol cruiser.
Neighbors gawked at the gruesome scene.
Deputies canvassed the area for witnesses.
The sheriff's face was red and his jaw tight. His eyes were misty, so mad he didn’t know whether to scream or cry.
"What do we know?" I asked.
"Routine traffic stop. He called in the plates on a red Honda that is registered to Justin Kessler. 22 years old. I've got a BOLO out on the suspect now. Erickson and Faulkner are waiting at the kid’s apartment for him to turn up.” Daniels shook his head. “Chuck pulled the kid over for a busted tail light. 30 years on the job and a busted tail light gets you killed."
He hung his head and sighed.
"Any witnesses?"
The sheriff shook his head. "Not so far. Couple of the neighbors said they heard multiple gunshots, then tires squeal.”
The forensics guys were examining the roadway, looking for tire tracks. Cameras flashed as they photographed the area.
"When did this happen?” I asked.
"He called in the stop about 45 minutes ago,” Daniels said.
"What do we know about the driver of the vehicle, Justin Kessler?"
"No criminal history. Graduated Coconut Key High School. Took some classes at the community college."
A news van arrived on the scene, the station logo emblazoned on the side. Paris Delaney and crew hopped out and hustled toward us. The camera lens soaked up the scene.
"Have you talked to Ellie yet?” I asked the sheriff.
“No. That's an in-person conversation.” He frowned. "I want you two to find out who did this and bring them to justice. I don't