Page 49 of The Texas Sterling Collection
* * *
The following day, we inspected the garage door in the daylight. Cindy popped out, coffee in hand. “Good morning, guys.”
“Mornin’, Cindy.” We spoke in unison.
“Did you call the sheriff?” She asked. “If you suspect someone, you should file a report. Property damage is property damage. No sense letting the asshole get away with it.”
Rod glanced at me. “I never thought about it, but she’s right. What do you think?”
I glanced at the garage door again and back at Rod. “It's not a bad idea. Dusty is a loose cannon. While the sheriff can’t do much without solid evidence, at least I need to report Dusty as a suspect.”
“We don’t have much crime in this neighborhood. It’s pretty quiet here. There is no through street, and this street is a dead end.” Cindy sipped her coffee. “Most crimes are committed by relatives with a grudge or so-called friends. You might get more traction than you think.”
After breakfast, we called the sheriff. Within 30 minutes, a deputy came and inspected the damage.
“Do you have any idea who might have done this?” He said.
“Yes. An old Marine buddy of mine threatened us while we ate lunch at Wild Grapevine yesterday,” I said. “We think he's the responsible party.”
The deputy pulled out a pad and pencil. “Can you give me his name?”
“Dusty Armitage,” I said. “He mentioned he lives in Bandera.”
The deputy nodded. “I’ll contact the Bandera County Sheriff. Since the crime occurred in Kerr County, but the suspect lives in Bandera County, we’ll work together. Do you want to file a restraining order against this…um…Dusty?”
I looked at Rod.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Rod said. “Now he knows where we live, so not much is stopping him from doing more damage.”
The deputy nodded. “You’ll file the restraining order at the county courthouse. After I enter this information into the system, I’ll notify you of the case number. You can use it to complete the paperwork.”
“Thanks, deputy,” I said. “We appreciate your help.”
The deputy put the notebook and pencil in his pocket and nodded. “You guys take care.” He strode to his cruiser and left.
I helped Rod clean the offending slur from the garage door. While we scrubbed, Rod asked, “Dusty’s comment about Italytaking care of you. Is it possible he alerted the gang in Italy?”
“At the time, the MPs considered it an effort by the guys who took me hostage to help them access the Italian government databases. Why?”
“The way he said it made it sound like he expected them to kill you or something. His utter hatred toward me at Wild Grapevine leads me to believe he may have attempted something before.”
Rod made a good point. I don’t think anyone checked into how those subversives found out about my computer programming skills. The Italian police captured the two remaining gang members. And after my shoulder healed, I was again transferred.
“Will you mention this to your commander when you call? If Dusty released sensitive information, it's some sort of armed services crime, right?”
I nodded. “Definitely.”
“Can Dusty be prosecuted for something from years ago?”
“I don’t know, but an investigation, plus a county sheriff asking questions, would take the wind out of his sails. When I speak to the commander, I’ll determine my options.”
“We have plenty of witnesses, including Wild Grapevine's wait staff and managers. In fact, before I left, the managers escorted Dusty and his wife out and asked them not to come back,” Rod said.
No wonder Dusty acted fast. He blamed us for being permanently kicked out of the restaurant. It’s a good thing we called the sheriff’s office. Dusty is more of a loose cannon than I realized.
We finished cleaning the garage door before retreating inside to relax. The rest of the long weekend flew by. Trees hid the deck from neighbors, so I wrapped my arms around Rod as we stood on Saturday and Sunday mornings watching the sunrise. When we put on a movie, he lays his head on my lap. I loved running my fingers through his silky hair, enjoying the sensations flowing into my hands from him. Fixing meals became a joint effort. For years, I avoided friendship, so I missed out on the back-and-forth banter we now found easy. The teasing we shared gave my life a sense of completeness. With our strong bond, I treasured every minute together. Sex with him nourished my soul. I wondered how I survived without experiencing the pleasures he gave me. As for the Dustys of the world, we would deal with them together, one asshole at a time.
Chapter Thirty
