Page 12 of Just Let Go

Grady stood and followed him out the back door and into the hallway, where he stopped and let out a frustrated stream of hot air. “This is a mess.”

Gus turned. “Could be worse.”

“I know. I heard.” But could it? He might as well be in jail if he couldn’t fight for his spot on the team. “There’s just no way any of you could understand.”

“You’re right. We’re simple folks. But we do know how to behave in public.” Gus turned and flicked his wrist forward, as if to suggest Grady should follow.

Minutes later they were back in the police station. “You look like you could use a hot shower and a good meal,” Gus said as he closed the door behind them.

“I’m fine.”

Gus’s nod was slow and steady as his eyes studied Grady. “Uh-huh.”

Grady looked away.

“My daughter Quinn—I think you saw her earlier—she used to hate taking baths at night. It was like torture or something. You know what I always told her?”

Grady responded with a quick, annoyed shake of his head.

“You gotta do it every single day, and complaining about it only makes that part of your day harder.”

Grady resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He didn’t need the old man’s little nuggets of wisdom. He needed a fresh change of clothes and a way out of this dump.

“Well, you get the point. The judge made his ruling, so that’s that. No sense complaining about it—you just have to move on. We do have a nice little ski resort, and I’m betting they’d let you train for free.”

“Gee, that sounds great.” A ski resort in southern Michigan would do him no good. Did anybody here know what kind of skier he was?

Gus smiled and his eyes creased into thin lines. “Well, you don’t know anyone, so I’ll get you settled in at one of the cottages here in town. You can shower and change and then report to Hazel’s for cleanup duty.”

“Great.”

Gus turned to the plump secretary with short hair and glasses, who now sat behind the desk where Quinn had set the vase of daisies. “Arlene, do you have Mr. Benson’s paperwork?”

The woman spun around in her chair, grabbed a manila folder, and slid it across the desk. “Sure do, boss.” She looked up at Grady. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Benson.”

Grady nodded. He couldn’t get out of here fast enough.

“Just have a few things for you to sign. Then you can be on your way.”

“Shouldn’t my lawyer be here with me?” Grady asked as Gus spread three sheets of paper out across the desk.

“Probably, but then Stuart Landen has never been the brightest bulb in the bunch. He’s probably stuck in the hallway trying to figure out where you ran off to.” Gus laughed at his own joke, which Grady did not find amusing.

He huffed, picked up the pen, and signed his name three times. Before he could set the pen down, Arlene stuck a notebook on the desk in front of him. “Can I get an autograph for my daughter? Her name is Madison.”

He scribbled,For Madison. Aim high. Grady Bensonon the paper and threw the pen down.

Arlene picked up the notebook and grinned. “She’s going to be so excited. Can we take a quick selfie?”

“Arlene.” Gus’s tone warned.

“Sorry, boss. Maybe another day. Heard you’re going to be in town for a few weeks.”

Inside, Grady groaned. Outside, he forced a smile, which he knew looked completely fake, and took a step back.

Gus handed him a plastic bag with his wallet, phone, and keys in it. “Your stuff.”

“Thanks.” They walked toward the front door.

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