Where We Began (Stone Lake 2.5)

I do a walk-through of her house, making sure it’s secure. I’m not sure when she moved but there are boxes everywhere, so it couldn’t have been long. It’s a tiny crap house that needs a hell of a lot of work too. I should talk to Lodge and see if he knows what kind of dump his sister is living in. When I make it back outside, Junie is already standing by my truck, walking to the door, and carrying her heavy overnight bag. I quickly approach her, jogging so I can take the bag out of her hand.

“I thought I told you to stay put, Junie,” I gripe, wondering if the woman might just have too much grit.

“Doing what I’m told hasn’t much worked for me, Sheriff,” she explains, but gives me her bag without complaint.

“I’m starting to sense that you’re very stubborn, Juniper.”

“That’s the great police training you’ve had kicking in I bet,” she sasses, making me shake my head as she struggles to walk up the small steps to her home. I help her as best I can, resisting the urge to pick her up, because I doubt she’d appreciate it.

“Where do you want your bag?” I ask her once we get inside.

“I’d tell you just leave it by the door, but I doubt you’d do it, so put it on the kitchen table. I can unpack it without bending over that way and you can find a way to live with your conscious.”

“It’s a good thing your ass is cute since your mouth should be a registered weapon,” I respond.

“My ass is cute? I told you, Sheriff, I’ve sworn off on men. You really should stop flirting,” she warns, following me to the door after I put her bag down.

“You’re too pretty to become a nun, Junie,” I tell her, turning back to look at her. I lean against the wall on the outside of her home as she stands there, holding the door halfway closed and staring back at me.

“I also cuss too much to become a nun,” she says with a frank honesty that I definitely like. “Thanks for the ride, Sheriff. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime. Just call. Do you have groceries?”

“No idea. But I have a phone and I can call Carl’s. That’s all I need,” she says, mentioning the local pizza shop.

“Cliffside delivers and they have a damn good lobster roll.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks again,” she says, clearly dismissing me.

I start to walk away, but something makes me stop and turn around to look at her.

“You’re a hell of a woman, Juniper Sellers, some guy is going to be damn lucky one day,” I tell her, partly because of the sadness in her eyes, despite her quick wit, is bothering me. And partly because there’s a part of me hating the fact that the man in question won’t be me.

Surprise moves across her features.

“Told you, Sheriff, I’m crossing men off my list.”

“Going to pinch hit for the other team?” I ask.

“Going to buy stock in batteries,” she responds and this time I full out laugh. “Later, Sheriff.”

“Later, Junie.” I give her a wave over my shoulder, still laughing as I get to the truck. By the time I’m inside the cab and putting the key in the ignition, Junie has closed the door. Hopefully she will be okay, but I need to let Lodge know she’s home so he can keep an eye one her. I know she’s independent, but that woman is more than a little broken right now.

Someone needs to watch out for her.

Junie

Two Weeks Later

“Shit, Junie. I don’t want you working there.”

“Tough luck, Gavin. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, big brother, but you’re not the boss of me.”

“The boss of me? Are we four now?” His response makes me smile into the phone receiver. I’m lonely. I’d never admit it, but I miss having Gavin, Luna and Joshua around. They’re still in Virginia, and Gavin is not happy about it. He’s been giving depositions and going through his back cases that he shared with Dern. I know my brother pretty well, and I’m almost positive that he’s three steps away from going postal on a bunch of them if they don’t let him come home soon.

“Whatever. How are you guys?”

“Trying to make the best of it. We had a couple of days off so we took Joshua to Virginia Beach. I have to head back in tomorrow. It should wrap up this week though. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Will you quit worrying? I’m fine, I swear. I’m a tough chick,” I half lie. There was a time in my life that I was tough. Now, I don’t feel tough at all. I feel broken, but I’d never let anyone see that. If there’s one lesson my mom taught me it’s that the minute you show weakness that’s the minute you get punched in the lady balls.