Page 12 of The Last Straw

Officers Oliver and Jackson pulled Barrett Taylor to his feet. Oliver then began searching him for the gun, while Jackson got an evidence bag. When Jackson began to pat him down, he grimaced.

“Dang it, Oliver. He pissed his pants. It’s your turn to transport a wet one.”

“I couldn’t help it,” Taylor said, glaring at Wyrick.

Wyrick glared back. “A rather embarrassing side effect of getting Tasered. Be glad I didn’t shoot you in the balls, because that was my first target.”

Taylor blanched, and then looked away as the officer bagged his gun.

“Get him out of here,” Bullard said, then glanced back at Wyrick as they led him away in handcuffs. “Ma’am, does Charlie know about this?”

“He’s in court. I’ll tell him later,” Wyrick said.

“I’ll just walk you to your car,” Bullard said, and then grinned. “Just in case there’s another one out there, you can protect the both of us.”

She ignored his attempt at humor, because she was anything but amused.

“I’ll get video footage from the security cameras to you tomorrow morning. Thank you for your prompt response.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bullard said.

They rode the elevator down in silence, then she exited the building and headed for her Ferrari, got in and sped off, heading straight to Whole Foods to pick up her grocery order. But even after she was on her way home, she kept thinking, Charlie is going to be pissed.

And Charlie was pissed. He’d spent the whole afternoon waiting to testify, only to be told late in the afternoon that the defendant pled out on the assault charges, and got off with time served, which amounted to two months and a fine.

He still couldn’t believe it. He’d witnessed the man assault a waitress, who wound up with a broken nose and jaw, her front teeth getting knocked out in the process, and this was her justice? He found out later the man was her ex-husband, and that she’d had a protective order against him. If Charlie hadn’t taken him down, he might have killed her.

The longer he stayed in this business, the more disenchanted he was becoming with the justice system. Sometimes it wasn’t about the crime, as much as how much power and money you had to buy your way out of trouble. All he wanted now was just to get home.

Living with Wyrick was often aggravating as hell, but she was also the anchor to his world. Knowing she needed him had changed his focus from the overwhelming grief of losing Annie. Wyrick was the weight that kept everything level in his life, and gave him purpose for still being in this world.

When he finally reached the drive leading up to the mansion, he hit the remote and drove through the iron gates as they opened, then hit the remote again, closing them behind him as he passed.

The weather looked iffy today, so he parked in the covered garage behind the mansion, just in case there was any threat of hail later on tonight, and headed toward the house. The wind was sharp and getting chilly as he glanced up at the sky. Fall was upon them and winter wouldn’t be far behind. Time was moving too fast. He was passing the greenhouse when he saw movement inside and smiled.

Wyrick was in there, and likely picking some of her old landlord’s tomatoes. Technically, they were her tomatoes now, since she’d inherited his property, but she still called them Merlin’s tomatoes.

He opened the door to the greenhouse and looked in. She was all the way at the back, and as he’d guessed, was filling a small bowl with patio tomatoes.

“Hey!” he called out. “I’m home. Need any help?”

She turned, a rare smile on her face. “No. I’ve got it. I’ll be in soon.”

He gave her a thumbs-up, shut the door and then jogged up the steps to the veranda, and into the house through the kitchen.

The room was warm and welcoming, and there was something heating in the oven, because he could smell it. Wyrick wasn’t much for cooking, but neither was he. She could heat food up without burning it, and microwave like a beast.

It was enough skill to sustain them, and when the occasion demanded, they went out to eat, or ordered in. Their routine was far smoother than their relationship, but it was what it was.

Anxious now to get out of the clothes he’d worn to court, he headed upstairs on a run.

By the time he came back down in old jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, Wyrick was back in the kitchen washing tomatoes.

A timer went off just as Charlie walked in.

“Is that timer for what’s in the oven?” he asked.

She nodded.

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