Page 90 of Anchor Point

Who could laugh at a time like this? I glared in his direction, willing him to feel my anger.

A woman and her child were attacked.

My woman and my child were hurt.

A very bad man was taken off the streets.

Our historic courthouse had burned to almost a total loss, and we’d had a man shot and two injured in the line of duty.

The need to walk right up and deck the mayor burned as hot and bright as anything I’d ever felt in my life.

As if the man himself had been the one to hurt them.

But in a way, part of tonight’s shit show had been a direct result of his actions.

“Mac. Head back to the scene.” Olivia gave me a low warning.

“Fuck that. It’s his fault that scene was such a shit show.”

“The mayor’s? How?” the elderly woman asked.

“He’s one of the ones who cut the funding for our equipment, forcing us to go with cheaper options. Options that failed when we needed them most,” I ground out.

“Mac, go back to the scene,” Olivia demanded. “Take care of the guys. Do your job.”

I looked her right in the eye. “I mean this as respectfully as possible. Shut up, Chief. I’m not going anywhere.” There was no way I could act all business as usual when the two most precious people in my life had nearly been lost.

“Mac,” she warned again. “We can’t be seen like this.”

I ignored her, slipping my arm around her because she was too far away.

“Hush up. Y’all can fight about it later,” Rosie finally spoke, still tucked into my chest. If a voice could hold an eye roll, hers did. “The whole world can see how in love you are. You aren’t fooling anyone.”

“Exactly, even the ones who can ruin everything,” Olivia ground out.

I kissed her temple.

“Let them look. I don’t care who sees. I don’t care if I have to leave the department. I can find another job.”

Olivia turned to me. “But…”

I quieted her with a kiss. “We’ll figure it out, baby. But go easy on me right now. My two favorite people in the whole world were just in a fight for their lives. I need to hold you. I need you close. Let me have that. None of the rest of it matters.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Mac

Two days after the courthouse fire, I got a call—a demand, really—to attend to one Francis O’Malley at the Brightside Rehab Center.

It had been two full days of making statements to investigators with the Georgia Bureau of Investigation and the state arson investigator. Loren Watkins had been arrested on scene, and this time, he was placed under maximum security. The evidence gathered from Harrison’s detective work, combined with the eye-witness accounts of the shooting at the courthouse fire meant Watkins had multiple pending charges, including homicide and attempted murder.

So, with all the legal stuff being wrapped up, and after visiting Cal at the hospital—Burgess and Mo had been treated and released the night of the fire—I walked into the rehab facility as summoned.

The nurse behind the counter flirted while I signed the guestbook, until an uproar rose down the hall. She tilted her head in the direction. “That’s probably where you’ll find her.”

Mrs. Francis was known to be a meddler, so the assumption fit.

Olivia and I had gone through scenarios and what-ifs, both of us bracing for the council hearing. But when Mrs. Francis called, it was usually important, so I made the time to swing by.

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