Page 36 of Star Crossed
Hearing that Wyatt was on his way back to the station with a drunk driver in tow, Jules went ahead and dispatched another officer. Then she called Fran back just to make sure she was safe until Adam, one of Wyatt’s best deputies, showed up on the scene. She was just hanging up when a burst of cold air announced Wyatt’s presence in the station.
She looked to the front door expectantly and then gasped when she saw who he was dragging with him, handcuffed, with his head held low. “Oh no, Terry!”
“Don’t.” Wyatt pointed at her, giving her a stern look. “Just shut your trap.”
“What happened?” Jules gasped, ignoring her brother’s warning as she jumped out of her seat to follow Wyatt as he pulled Terry with him to his office. “You can’t book him. That’ll go on his permanent record.”
Wyatt sat Terry in the chair on the other side of his desk and then turned to give Jules an incredulous look. “What part of ‘shut your trap’ aren’t you getting? This is a sheriff’s office. We arrest people who crash into elm trees, drunk as a damn skunk on New Year’s Eve. We don’t play favorites. That’s not fair and you know it.”
Jules crossed her arms over her chest and bit her tongue against arguing in front of Terry. She managed to stay silent for about two seconds before she said, “He crashed his car? Is he okay? How’d you know he doesn’t have whiplash or something? Maybe you should’ve called Tommy to take him up to Mercy General and—”
“He’s fine,” Wyatt assured her as he unzipped his thick, wool-lined sheriff’s jacket and shrugged out of it. “Can I do my job, please?”
Jules stood her ground, wanting to strip off her uniform and play lawyer instead because there was no way she was going to let this ruin Terry. Wyatt would start screaming about conflict of interest, and she really didn’t give a shit. She was tired of being his backup every time things got too wild and hairy at the sheriff’s office. She had enough work to keep her busy for a lifetime. Taking her badge would be the best thing Wyatt ever did for her.
Wyatt lifted his gaze to hers, tilting his head to the front of the station. “I believe that’s a dispatch call I hear.”
Jules growled, feeling very tempted to stomp her foot in frustration. Instead she turned around and dashed out of Wyatt’s office before she missed the call. She dived for it, answering breathlessly, “911, what’s your emergency?”
“Hey, Jules, whatcha doing working New Year’s Eve?”
She sat in the chair and repeated, “What’s your emergency?”
“I locked myself out of the damn house.”
Jules took a deep breath, remembering now why she positively hated working dispatch on New Year’s. This particular holiday didn’t bring out Garnet’s best and brightest. “Who is this?”
“Dontcha recognize my voice? It’s Kenny.”
“Being locked out of your house is not an emergency, Kenny,” Jules said in annoyance. “You got family to call for that.”
“Without my shirt on,” Kenny went on. “And the car’s locked, so—”
“Have you been drinking?” Jules asked him accusingly. “Were you gonna drive somewhere?”
“But I didn’t.” Kenny’s voice rose to a whine, his teeth chattering in the cold. “Wait, maybe I locked the keys in the car. Yeah, that’s why I can’t get into the house. ’Cause the keys are locked in the car. I went back to get a shirt, but the damn door’s locked—”
“Right,” Jules said drily. “I’m gonna send someone out there to help you. Go ahead and give me your address.”
“Sheriff knows where I live.”
Jules rolled her eyes. “Just give me the address and your cell phone number.”
Jules wrapped up the call with Kenny. She sent someone out to help him, which seemed like a waste of desperately needed manpower, but they couldn’t let Kenny freeze to death from his drunken stupidity.
She wanted to go back and argue with Wyatt, but she knew that was pointless when he was in full-on sheriff mode. New Year’s Eve was one of the worst nights of the year for him, and he was all business because of it. Instead she picked up her cell phone as a distraction, going back to Romeo’s picture and reading the text beneath it.
Wish I was with you. Stuck here instead.
Break it off. Jules told herself that after every phone call. Every text message. She chanted it in her head at night before she fell asleep, and she woke up with the same reminder. Never in a million years would it work with Romeo. There was so much she didn’t know about him, and a lot more she did know and wished she didn’t.
She set her phone down and turned to the computer. She logged in to the national database and looked him up. Not for the first time. She’d done it many times since she’d gotten home, and every single time it was almost impossible to equate the information on the police report with the man she’d spent the night with in Las Vegas. She stared at the screen, seeing his crimes in black-and-white, and still she couldn’t accept it.
Assault.
Resisting arrest with violence.
Battery on an officer.
