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Once Upon A Half-Time 2(127)



Yeah, now if we could just keep him here and not in jail, we’d be set.

I snuck inside the police station—the one place I should have visited long ago with my concerns. Nolan. His motive. The threats. The bruises on my wrist.

But I couldn’t share my suspicions about the damned Mayor, even if my case against Nolan was far stronger than Maddox’s bizarre accusations against Chief Craig.

The receptionist stayed on the phone, but she waved me through the offices. I knew the layout too well—hard to forget when I’d picked up Maddox so many times.

“Josie! Good morning!” Chief Craig welcomed me into his office. He nursed a coffee that wouldn’t do a damn thing to soften the rock he called a muffin on his desk. He laughed and shared my disgust. “I know. Darla made me take a healthy breakfast.”

“You might want to file for domestic abuse.”

He touched it. The top flaked off. That wasn’t right. He pitched it into the garbage, and no baked good should have clanged like that.

Chief Craig gestured for me to take a seat. “Anything I can help you with, sweetheart? Everything okay? Is it Maddox?”

Oh lord. I expected the question. I shook my head. “No…well, not really. I was just wondering if you had a minute. I had a couple questions about the, uh, fire.”

His eyebrows rose. “Sure, Josie. I have all the time in the world for you. I was only going to respond to the impromptu dog show on Main Street.”

“Millie is winning.”

“Ah, but Jean-Baptise has the heart of a champion.” He frowned. “So, what’s on your mind?”

I cautiously picked through my words. “I don’t remember much from that night.”

“You hit your head inside the shop and sucked down a lot of smoke, if I recall.”

“I think so.”

“You’re very lucky to be alive.”

“Maddox saved me.”

Chief Craig grunted. I took my shot.

“You were the first one on the scene, right?”

He nodded. “That’s right.”

“Did you write up the accident report? Could I get another copy?”

“Of course.” He turned to his computer, banging a few keys to bring up the official report. His receptionist had to unjam the paper in his printer, but he handed me the report within minutes. “Any questions you have in particular? The insurance giving you problems?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Is it Maddox?”

I scanned the document and shook my head. The fire marshal said the fire started at approximately 10:15 PM, but Chief Craig was on scene at 10:23.

And I knew from the insurance investigation Bob Ragen didn’t call 911 until 10:28.

“I just…” Something didn’t sit right with me. Maddox’s paranoia didn’t belong in my head, but the chilled web of fear strung from one side of my mind to the other. “It happened so fast that night.”

“Went up like a tinderbox.” Chief Craig’s voice hardened. “It was intended to burn quick.”

“I’m just lucky you were there so quickly.”

“It’s my job, sweetheart.”

I bit my lip. “How did you get there so fast?”

Chief Craig leaned back in his chair, the leather squeaking. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t think you’d be on duty so late at night. You’re usually out to tennis with Councilman Grossi by five on the dot.”

“Delta’s been snitching on us.”

“Nothing’s secret in this town.”

His smile faded. “Well, to be honest, I wasn’t dispatched.”

I didn’t react, but my stomach flipped like a pancake.

“I was in the neighborhood,” he said. “Doing a patrol. I thought something felt odd that night. You learn to trust your instincts in the line of duty.”

“And…what was your instinct?”

“That something bad was going to happen.”

He wasn’t wrong. Or was he? Would something bad have happened if he weren’t there?

Chief Craig sipped his coffee. He smacked his lips with a frown. “This town was relieved when you ditched Maddox. He left, but I knew he’d come back—a man like that wants what’s his, and most of the time it’s ill-intentioned. That boy was looking for revenge.”

I stiffened. “Revenge?”

“He’s the type. Only satisfied with blood. He came after you, Josie.”

“There’s more to the story than that.”

“Of course there is, but he’s not talking, is he? Josie, I wasn’t the first man at the scene. He was. I was at your shop in time because I was following him.”

Oh, that thought just made me sick—the kind of clammy discomfort from eating too much sugar or drinking too much wine at once. Sometimes both in my house.