Page 5 of Saving Her Heart
"You realize I have to write this up."
"I realize."
"Multiple violations."
"You mentioned."
"Including the failure to maintain a pet-free environment as specified in city health codes."
"It's not my goat."
"You're the property manager. It's your responsibility."
There it is. The same tone he used when he told me he was choosing the police academy in Dallas over our plans to stay in Hibiscus Harbor and go to college together. Matter-of-fact. Decided.
"Fine," I say, crossing my arms. "Write me up. Cite me for every violation you can find. I'm sure Valerie will frame them for her office."
Something shifts in his expression—surprise, maybe, at my directness. But before he can respond, the code enforcement officer arrives, clipboard at the ready.
"I'll need to inspect the premises," the man announces. "Document all violations."
"Of course you will," I mutter.
"I'll also need to speak with the animal's owner about proper permits and zoning compliance."
"Good luck with that," I say. "She thinks her dead husband bought the goat yesterday."
The code enforcement officer looks at Jax, who shrugs. "It's complicated."
Complicated. That's one word for it.
"Ms. Greene," Jax says, shifting back to his official voice, "I'll need you to come to the station to give a formal statement."
"Now?"
"Within the next twenty-four hours."
"Fine."
He hesitates, then adds, "You might want to get your shoes first."
I look at him—really look at him—and see something underneath the professional facade. Concern? Regret? Whateverit is disappears quickly, replaced by Officer Masterson's neutral expression.
"I'll send you the case number," he says, turning to leave. Then, so quietly I almost miss it, "You might want to document Mrs. Parsons' condition. For her sake."
Before I can respond, he's walking away, already pulling out his phone to presumably call in the situation. Declan is still with Valerie, who's gesturing dramatically about her near-death experience. The code enforcement officer is photographing the destroyed rose bushes.
And I stand alone on the pool deck, barefoot and defeated, watching my perfectly controlled life unravel like a cheap sweater. All because of a goat named Gertie, and a confused elderly woman who just misses her husband.
My phone buzzes. Three more complaints have come in, all about the morning's chaos. By lunch, the entire town will know about the great goat escape of Hibiscus Point. By dinner, Valerie will have called an emergency board meeting. And by bedtime, I'll be unemployed.
I need to check on Mrs. Parsons, deal with the damage, field the complaints, and somehow figure out how to keep my job. But first, I need my shoes. And possibly a strong drink, though it's barely eight in the morning.
As I head back inside, I catch sight of Jax's patrol car pulling away. Through the back window, I can see him talking to someone on the radio, probably filing his initial report. By-the-book Jax, following every rule and regulation while my world falls apart.
My three rules haven't prepared me for this. They certainly haven't prepared me for him being the responding officer. And they definitely haven't prepared me for the way my traitorous heart jumped when he looked at me, even while he was listing my violations.
I find my shoes on the second-floor landing, one of them bearing a suspicious hoof mark. Gertie apparently trampled them on her way past. Perfect. Just perfect.
