Page 5 of Kitten Kisses

Giving a condensed version, he told his boss what had taken place.

“It’s petty theft, and someone needs their ass kicked.” Gary yawned. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Alex assured him. “They were intimidating, but there was no physical altercation.”

“I’m glad you weren’t hurt.” Gary yawned again. “Do you need me to come in?”

Gary usually arrived every morning at seven, but Alex didn’t want to disturb his sleep by dragging him out of bed four hours early. Plus, the police were already handling it. “No, go back to bed. I just wanted to make you aware of what happened.”

“I’ll see you when I get there.” Gary yawned for the third time. “By the way, if you ever have a gut feeling something isn’t right, don’t hesitate to lock the doors until things calm down. Your safety is more important than losing some customers,” he said before he hung up.

Setting his phone down, Alex was touched by his boss’s concern. During his job interview, he’d sensed Gary was a good guy. And now he was grateful to see it was true.

“Silence!” The swift sharp command drew Alex’s attention to the sliding glass doors. Standing there, with a stance that exuded authority and power, was an older version of Mike. Even in his casual attire, he radiated ten times more control than his son.

Mike was no longer sitting on the floor, but he remained handcuffed and stood with his lips pressed tightly together, avoiding any eye contact with his father.

Chadwick and Chase were nowhere in sight.

“If you release Michael into my custody,” the older man spoke firmly, “I assure you he will be dealt with properly.”

Slater shook his head. “That decision is not mine to make.”

“Then who has the authority to decide?” dripping with condescension and arrogance, mirroring the same unpleasant demeanor Alex had seen in Mike.

It was clear now where Mike had inherited his superior disposition from. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

Only, the superior look on the father’s face could have halted a charging bull in its tracks. If Mike hadn’t been a complete dick to Alex, he might have felt sorry for him being raised by such a dictatorial parent.

But that didn’t excuse Mike’s reprehensible behavior toward others. He had belittled and humiliated Alex, looking down on him as if he were nothing.

Like Alex had, Mike could have chosen a different path instead of blindly following in his father’s footsteps.

“The authority to decide rests with Sheriff Harper,” Slater replied evenly, his hands resting on his utility belt as if it were their natural place. Then again, the other deputy mimicked the same stance.

“Then call the sheriff so I can take custody of my son.” He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his slacks. “I want him here immediately. And remind him how much I contribute to this town.”

What. An. Asshole. How could someone be so full of themselves?

Slater calmly pulled out his cell phone from the pocket of his neatly pressed uniform. Alex couldn’t detect a trace of irritation from his expression, but the guy had to be simmering beneath the surface.

Thirty minutes passed before the glass door slid open. In walked a man the size of a freaking bear, dwarfing everything around him. Alex stared in awe at the sheer size and strength of him. He must have been at least three hundred pounds of solid, bulging muscle.

Alex had never seen someone that massive before. Despite only living in Midnight Falls for a short while, he was confident this hulking figure was the sheriff in civilian clothing. He stood just as tall as Slater and the other deputy, who Alex guessed to be around six-five. But they paled in comparison to the sheriff’s formidable frame.

“I demand that my son be released into my custody.”

The sheriff made no attempt to hide his annoyance as he stared at Mike’s father, like he was silently calculating how many pressure points it would take to render the pompous jerk unconscious.

Alex found himself wondering the same thing. The dude was giving him a flipping headache.

“While I am aware of your generous contributions to our town, Mr. Fiago,” he said, slowly and deliberately, “your son still broke the law.”

“It was a lousy case of beer,” Mr. Fiago ground out between clenched teeth. “My contributions pay for your entire department’s salary.”

The only lesson Mr. Fiago seemed to be teaching his son was how to buy his way out of trouble. Not exactly a great moral example for a parent.

“I’m afraid that’s not true,” the sheriff replied calmly. “Your contributions actually go toward supporting our local schools with vital resources such as computers, athletic equipment, and school-related trips. I’m sure such an upstanding citizen as yourself wouldn’t dream of withdrawing your donations just because you disagree with my decision.”

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