Into This River I Drown

knocking me over. Cal grabs me as I stumble and pulls me against him, putting his

arm across my chest protectively. I am very aware of Michael watching us closely. “Lola,” Griggs warns, “this is none of your concern. You stay out of this.” “I am done with you,” she snarls at him. “Unless you have probable cause to be

on my property, I suggest you leave. The less you do for this family, the better.” He glances over my mother’s shoulder at the rest of the family standing there, as

if looking for something. He must not find what he’s looking for, because he takes a

step back toward his patrol car. “I will find out what you’re hiding,” he says to Cal.

“I know it’s something, and as long as you are in my town, I won’t stop until I find it

out.”

“Now that’s an interesting use of taxpayer money,” Abe says. “I wonder what

the town would think of such things, Sheriff? You know, the people who elected

you? Maybe you should ask them what they think about Cal here before you

misappropriate your department’s time and energy. It’d be interesting to see how

quickly one could gather enough signatures to petition for a recall election for a

sheriff using bias and intimidation to get what he wants, wouldn’t you say?

Especially in front of so many witnesses.”

The scowl on the sheriff’s face deepens. The hatred in his eyes is plain as he

looks at each of us in turn, but never more than when he glares at Cal and me. I stand

firm, not diverting my gaze, attempting to show I will not be cowed by this man. Not

now. Not at my home. He points his finger at me. “You will—”

“Enough,” Christie interrupts in a hard voice. “It’s time for you to get back into

your car, George. This has gone on long enough. We’ll be in touch if we require your

services any further.”

“So that’s how it’s going to be,” Griggs says. “After all I’ve done for your

family over the years. Who knew it would have come to this?” His petulance is

almost laughable, but I can’t rein in an angry desire to attack him.

Griggs turns to move back to his car, but is stopped when Michael says his

name. I’d almost forgotten the archangel was even there. He walks over to the

sheriff, his long legs making quick work of the distance between them. He moves

with such fluid grace it almost seems like he’s floating. If you didn’t know what he

was, you’d have thought he might have been a dancer at one point in his life. If you

did know what he was, you could almost imagine his wings carrying him over. He has several inches on Griggs as he stands before him, and for a moment the