Page 23 of Just Friends

“Yeah, dinner at Angelo’s.” Why couldn’t they see it was simply dinner?

“You had a meal at a romantic, candlelit restaurant with a guy who’s been throwing himself at you for months,” Autumn responded. “And he doesn’t bother to hide it.”

Well, he’d thrown himself in her bed that morning. She couldn’t tell them that she and Weasel ended up chatting for an hour until she had to get ready for brunch. He didn’t even try to touch her. They wouldn’t buy it. No one would.

“If he’s that obvious in public, he’s got to be pretty damn clear in private,” Hannah said.

“We’re just friends,” Rebecca said. She was tiring of this explanation. “And that’s all he acts like in private.”

“Right,” Hannah said with a healthy dose of skepticism. “A man who’s been in love with you…”

“Whoa,” Rebecca said. “Let’s not confuse wanting to get me into bed with love.”

“You really think that’s all he wants?” Autumn asked.

“Well, yeah,” Rebecca said. “It’s Weasel we’re talking about.”

Seven

Weasel checked his phone and willed himself not to text her again. He texted her once yesterday and twice today; no response. He’d worked overnight and needed to check in with Rebecca before he headed home to crash. This stupid asshole was stalking her in a clown costume. He had friends in patrol monitoring her apartment, Ellis Diner, and Huntington Farms looking for every clown they could find. They were to notify him if Kyle showed up too. Mainly because he wanted to punch him in the face. He suspected the idiot’s involvement with the mysterious clown, but the drive totalk to her and verify her safety was overwhelming.

Weasel hadn’t been in contact with her since leaving her bed the morning prior. Unfortunately, not in the way he fantasized. They’d simplytalked. She’d been evasive on how often the clown appeared, and he’d climbed in next to her. He enjoyed conversations with her, but a naked, post orgasm conversation still would have been better.

Monday was supply delivery at Ellis Diner, so she should be at work. He turned his car toward downtown White Oak and to the square. Fall lasted for about a day then dove straight to winter, and now on Halloween, it felt more like caroling weather than trick-or-treating. At one time, he’d loved Halloween. But in his early days on the force, he’d had to interact with teens that acted like he used to. It was a humbling experience to realize he’d been a little jackass as a kid.

Through the back entrance of the Ellis Diner, a man’s voice yelling, floated down the hallway. Moving from the hall into the kitchen, there was Rebecca, her hair flying. She wielded a sizeable culinary knife and was chasing a man dressed as a clown around the center island. He’d walked in on many strange scenes in his life as a cop, but this one took the cake. She’d had enough and snapped. The costumed individual screamed as he ran and stayed just outside Rebecca’s erratic attempts to stab him.

He pulled the radio off his belt. “Dispatch, please send backup to Ellis Diner. The clown suspect from Huntington is here.” He paused while they continued to circle oblivious to his arrival. “Dispatch, requesting a medical unit. The clown’s probably gonna need it.”

As entertaining as this was, he had stop it so Rebecca didn’t get hurt or charged with murder. “Everybody freeze.”

Rebecca stopped in her tracks, realizing he was there. The clown came right at him. “Oh, thank God, officer…”

Weasel drew his gun and aimed it at the perpetrator. “I said freeze.” Then, he froze with his palms in the air. “Put your hands on your head,” Weasel commanded.

“I didn’tdo anything wrong,” the clown cried, but he did as ordered.

“You’re stalking a woman.”

“I’m doing my job,” the clown replied, eyes glued on the weapon.

“Your job is scaring the shit out of innocent women?”

“No,” he replied. “I work for Haunted Entertainment. We do haunted houses and spooky singing telegrams during October. People hire characters for events and for whatever. They buy packages for us to dress up and follow their friends around for a Halloween prank.”

“A prank,” Weasel repeated, “they hired you to prank her?”

He nodded. “The company was. I just work for them. It was in good fun until this bitch––”

???

Rebecca had never seen anyone move so fast. In one swift motion, Weasel kicked the clown’s feet out from under him and flipped him to his stomach on his way to the ground. The man choked; the wind was knocked out of him. “We don’t call ladies that. This is my gentle reminder. I won’t remind you again.” With his knee planted on the suspect’s lower back, he cuffed him and stood. From flat on his abdomen, the clown sobbed. A sound came from Weasel’s radio. He pulled it from his belt. “Suspect in custody.”

Now, this blatant display of alpha maleness should appall her, but it didn’t. It certainly shouldn’t turn her on, but there she was. Autumn had informed her that Weasel in cop mode was intimidating. Perhaps, if you were the individual he was after. Watching him apprehend the scary clown was the sexiest thing she’d ever encountered.

“Rebecca,” he said jolting her to reality.

“Yeah.”

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