Page 5 of A Little Twist

“My poor baby!” Holly drops to her knees and attaches a leash to the pig’s collar. “Are you hurt? Who would do this to you?”

I rise to my full height, looking down at my ruined clothes while Holly continues talking to her pig like it’s a person and ranting about teenagers and people having no respect for private property.

“Last year it was my chickens, now this.” Her nose wrinkles with a sniff. “Oh, Myrtle, you need a bath. Is it okay if I take the afternoon off, Sheriff?”

“Sure.” Aiden holds out his hand to pull me from the muddy trench.

My leather loafers slip on the wet grass, but I finally make it out.

“Those were really nice shoes.” He shakes his head, looking down. “Probably not so great for what we just did.”

“I’m sure chasing pigs is not what the designer had in mind.” I can’t help frowning at the idiotic chain of events, which doesn’t really surprise me for Eureka.

Aiden wipes his hands down the front of his uniform pants. “This mud smells like ass.”

“No shit. I’m not getting in my car this way. What are you going to do?”

“I have an extra uniform and a shower at the courthouse. Here.” He tosses me a set of keys. “Britt’s old loft is empty. You can clean up there. I’m pretty sure I left a pair of sweatpants and a few shirts in the dresser.”

“Thanks.” I catch the keys to his fiancée’s now-vacant apartment, and we walk together towards the town square where his office is located in the courthouse. We look like we’ve been mud wrestling. “I can’t believe you had me chasing a pig.”

Aiden exhales a short laugh. “She’ssome pig.”

My eyes narrow, but I can’t resist. “Possibly humble.Notradiant.”

He grips my shoulder with a chuckle—a response that’s become more frequent since Britt entered his life. Before her, he only smiled at his son. “Walk over when you’re done, and we can finish talking about… whatever you were telling me.”

Nice. “You mean how well Stone Cold is doing or your pending nuptials?”

“I prefer the latter.”

I shake my head. “Can’t do it. I’ve got to pick up Pinky from Mom’s. Looks like I’ll be a little later than usual.”

Aiden’s son Owen gave my daughter Penelope her nickname when she was a toddler, and it stuck. He said it’s because her strawberry blonde hair is pink. It helps that pink is also her favorite color, and she spends most days wearing or eating something pink or carrying around her stuffed pink piglet.

Mom never complains if I’m late picking her up after work, but I do my best to be on time. It’s enough that she dedicates her golden years to babysitting my preschool daughter every day. I try not to monopolize her evenings as well.

“Mom loves her grandkids.” Aiden slaps my shoulder. “I’ll give her a call and let her know you were helping me out.”

He cuts across the square in the direction of the courthouse, and I push through the glass door of a small storefront. To my left is the entrance to the Star Parlor, Britt’s mother’s tarot-reading studio. In front of me is a flight of stairs leading up to Britt’s old loft.

I take the steps two at a time and unlock the door using the keys Aiden gave me. The space is empty except for a few remaining pieces of furniture—a queen-sized bed under large windows, a couch in front of a medium-sized flatscreen television, and a dresser against the wall.

Stripping out of my muddy slacks and dress shirt, I leave everything in a pile outside the bathroom door. I’ll bag it up after I’m clean and decide if it’s even worth trying to salvage.

I’m relieved to find a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo still in the shower. The shampoo is a flowery, girlish scent, but it’s better than sewage. I switch on the water and step inside, ready to get the funk of ditch water and ditch critters off me.

I’ve got to move fast if I’m going to pick up my daughter from Mom’s without being too late. The last thing I need is any more surprises today.

CHAPTER2

CASS

“Ithink it’s a sign.” Lying on my back on the concrete drive under Britt’s orange Ford step-side, I grunt as I loosen the bolt holding the oil pan in place.

I’ve been helping my friends with auto maintenance ever since I took a shop class in high school. I was the only girl in the class, and the gym teacher who was stuck teaching thought it was funny. By contrast, I was very serious about being able to take care of my own vehicle in case of emergencies, and he was so impressed, he taught me all the basics. YouTube taught me the rest.

“They’re all signs.” Britt squats beside the wheel, watching as the oil drains from her dad’s old vehicle she inherited after he died. “They’ve been going up all over town for a year.”

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