Page 12 of Smitten with the Single Dad

“I took a few with my phone,” Fischer said. “Too dark though. We’ll come back in the morning.”

“Won’t the tide be in by then?” Jenkins asked.

“It’s beyond the tideline,” Dom said bewildered. “Is this your first day on the freaking island?”

The cops glared at Wyatt’s brother, who was normally so much calmer, almost shy most of the time. He must also be close to losing his shit if he was taking back to cops.

“Unless Officer Bruce is not on the island, please call her,” Justine said. “I will take pictures and help Vica.” She turned to Vica. “If you would like an exam and to submit evidence. Totally optional, of course.” It was optional; however Justine’s brown eyes did a decent job driving home how evidence could bolster Vica’s case.

Vica nodded. “O—okay.”

The two cops grumbled, and Jenkins had the audacity to look at his watch.

“Oh. Sorry, Officer. Are we keeping you out past your bedtime?” Wyatt asked.

Jenkins glared at Wyatt.

Wyatt didn’t give a shit.

Finally, after a staring contest that lasted nearly a minute, Jenkins pulled out his phone and called Officer Bruce.

The island was so small that it didn’t take Gabrielle Campbell that long to arrive. She was known for never cracking a smile, having a chip on her shoulder, and being all business. But in this case, that was needed. Vica needed solid legal representation and Garbrielle Campbell, Esquire—now co-owner and operator of Westhaven Winery—was just that.

“Don’t say a word,” Gabrielle said, climbing out of her dusty, dark-red Ford Escape. She fixed her hawk-like amber gaze on the cops. “No more questioning my client unless I am present. Got it?”

Her expression softened when she turned to Vica at the same time Justine,Bennett, and Grayson came slowly stomping up the incline from the beach. Grayson and Bennett were carrying the body, draped in a sheet on the spine board.

Vica’s swallow beside Wyatt was loud enough he heard it.

Her hand in his tightened.

“The victim has agreed to a sexual assault evidence kit,” Justine said to Gabrielle. “And Officer Bruce is on her way. The two of us will take care of it.”

Gabrielle nodded. “Good.” She turned to Vica and rested a hand on her shoulder. “And good news for you, these were exactly the kinds of cases I dealt with in Seattle before I left law and inherited a winery with my cousins. But, I still have my license. And this …” she spun back around to glare at the cops. “this type of defense isveryclose to my heart. I take it seriously. I am …relentlessin my pursuit of justice.”

“As are we,” Jenkins said, meeting her gaze.

Wyatt stowed his laugh when Gabrielle scoffed.

More headlights, this time belonging to the off duty, and only female cop on the island, Myla Bruce. Not only was she a cop, but she and four of her friends, or sisters, or something, all ran the local cidery and orchard on the other side of the island.

Myla hopped out, dressed down in jeans and a T-shirt, much like Gabrielle was.

The glare she shot at her too-old-to-still-wear-the-badge coworkers wasn’t missed on anybody… besides maybe her coworkers. Just as Gabrielle’s did, Myla’s expression softened when she glanced over at Vica. “I’m sorry for what you’ve experienced tonight. I’m here to help.”

“Isn’t anybody concerned at all about the fact that a man died tonight?” Fischer finally asked.

Everyone but Vica shrugged, even Grayson who returned along with Bennett. The tall black man was always welcome at the pub. He had a real affinity for beer and wasn’t afraid to hold back on his opinions when Clint made a badbatch. Not only was he an avid beer drinker and friend, but he was a top-notch doctor too.

“Once we get him to the hospital we can do a more thorough examination,” Grayson said.

“We still would prefer if Ms. Vitale came to the station,” Jenkins argued. “She’s a flight risk.”

“No, she’s really not,” Gabrielle snapped. “And she’s absolutely not going anywhere where there isn’t a female chaperone at all times. Dig down deep, gentlemen, and find that empathy that still—I hope—lies within.”

Jenkins and Fischer exchanged looks before they finally gave curt, reluctant nods. “We’ll be back in the morning,” Jenkins said.

“I need to notify next of kin,” Fischer said. “I hate this part.”

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