"Well, now, those are serious accusations, Tammy." The Sheriff settled his hat back on his head, turning what should have been a two second task in to a two minute ordeal. When he was satisfied the angle of the brim was just so, he said, "Matter of fact, nobody has made any sort of similar statement against the Havertys."
"Ask Kitty." Tammy stomped across the room, grabbing my arm and starting to haul me toward the kitchen. "We'll go away so you can't say we were influencing her or anything. You talk to her and she'll tell you what it's like living in that house."
"Can they stay?" Kitty's whispered question stopped Tammy's forward movement and we both turned to find her twisting her hands in the yarn which was supposed to be the beginnings of a baby blanket. "Please? I'd feel better if they stayed."
"Okay." Sheriff Underwood shot us a narrow-eyed look over his shoulder, sitting down on the coffee table in front of her. "But they have to be quiet. One word out of either of them and they're out of the room."
"Understood." I mimed locking my lips and throwing away the key, widening my eyes in an attempt at innocence. Next to me, Tammy snorted but otherwise remained silent.
"Humph." The Sheriff rolled his eyes before turning back to Kitty. "All right now. Why don't you tell me what living with your parents is like?"
At first, she stumbled over her words, clearly not comfortable with the idea of tattling or spilling family business. When nobody made any move to silence her or discount what she was saying, the words started pouring out and this time she was stumbling not because she couldn't figure out what to say but because there was too much to stay and she was scared she would be able to say it all. When she started talking about being forced to take cold showers and scrub with lye soap, I said, "That's enough."
The Sheriff sighed. "Jeannie-."
"That's fucking enough." I didn't shout the words, not quite, but that was only because I couldn't quite manage to get them past the knot in my throat. "You want to sit there and tell me there's not enough evidence to remove her from that house, I'm going to call you a goddamned liar and throw as much money behind your opponent as possible in the next election."
"You know we haven't had an election here in years, Jeannie." He sighed, pulling his hat off and perching it on his knee before rubbing one handover the shiny bald dome of his head. "And I'm not saying there isn't evidence. I'm saying this is a complicated situation and what you did didn't help things."
"You want to tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing?" When he didn't answer, I nodded. "Yeah, I thought so. Now that you have an official complaint of abuse, what's the next step?"
"Legally, I'm required to contact Social Services, who will put Kitty in a temporary home while they're investigating the situation." He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Tammy, I know I'm the bad guy here but do you think I could get a glass of water and some Tylenol? I've got a headache blowing off the roof of my head right now and I doubt it's going to get any better before the day is through."
"I don't know." Tammy crossed her arms and lifted her chin. "Maybe."
I sighed. "Tammy. Get the man some drugs."
"Fine." She rolled her eyes and flounced off in to the kitchen, stomping back a few minutes later with a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol. She shoved them in to his hands before flopping on the sofa next to Kitty. "Why does she have to go to a home? Why can't she stay here? Aunt Jeannie already said she could."
"Which was right generous of your aunt but that's not the law and despite what your aunt thinks it takes more than money to get people to look the other way when it comes to whether or not a thing is legal." The Sheriff shifted on the table, shooting me a look which had me straightening my spine even as my cheeks flooded with red. "Now, I can recommend she stay here since it keeps her out of the system and the system already has more kids in it than the old woman who lived in the shoe but let's face it-there's already a lot of you crammed in one small space."
"I'll talk to the contractor and see if we can push up the move in date." Considering the amount of money I was spending and the bonus I was already playing him, I didn't see how it would be a problem. "There's six bedrooms in there. She can have her own and so can the baby, if she decides she's going to keep it."
"Which would go a long way toward making you a more appropriate guardian but there's still going to be home studies and background checks and all sorts of other things." He scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned. "Let me get Judge Hawkins on the phone, talk this over with him and see what needs to be done right now. You mind if I use the kitchen or do you want me to step outside?"
"Kitchen is probably better." I managed a half-hearted smile. "Wouldn't want to give the neighbors a show."
As he stepped in to the kitchen, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Pulling it out, I stared at the screen for a moment before hitting the ACCEPT key. "Hey."
"Not the enthusiastic greeting I was hoping for but it's been a long day for me, too." Abraham's voice filled my ear, the line crackling with static for a moment before clearing. "What are you doing?"
"Were you serious when you said you don't listen to gossip?" I glanced at the girls, huddled together on the couch and whispering, before inching down the hall. "Because if so, you missed a real eventful day."
"Give me the Cliff Notes version now and you can tell me the unabridged version tomorrow night over dinner."
"About tomorrow." I slipped in to my room and closed the door, leaning against it and sighing. "Can we take your car? Mine isn't large enough for six people."
"Six?" There was a faint tinkle in the background and the mournful wail of Hank Williams. "Last I checked, there were only five of us. Did you adopt another kid in the last twenty-four hours?"
"Kind of."
"Kind of." He paused and a few seconds later the noise level dropped-he must have gone in to the backroom. "Okay. So maybe I should get the slightly longer than Cliff Notes version."
I gave him the shortest version possible, sliding down to sit on the floor with my back against the dresser. When I finished, he was quiet for so long I started to wonder if he'd hung up while I was rambling. "Abraham?"
"I'm still here."
"What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking that you're not only smart and ambitious and sexy as fuck but you've also got a heart of gold."
"Don't spread rumors." I closed my eyes and sighed. "I couldn't leave her there, Abraham. I don't think any person who wasn't an absolute monster could."
"You did the right thing." His voice softened, almost becoming a caress. "Doing the right thing is a helluva lot more demanding than dropping ten percent in the offering plate on Sunday morning."
"I used to think life would be easier if I had more money." I laughed, surprised to find myself a little weepy and even more surprised that he didn't seem to be bothered by it. "And it is, in some ways. But it doesn't change how fucked up other people are."
"Nothing short of God is going to do that and even that is up for debate." He paused for a moment before he cleared his throat and said, "So are we still sticking with two rooms?"
"Yeah, somebody needs to stay in the room with Dolly and Conway and I don't think either Tammy or Kitty want to sleep in a room by themselves." I pinched my nose and rubbed my forehead, wondering if I'd stashed some headache medicine in my room somewhere. "We'll need one with connecting doors."
"As long as the connecting doors lock." His voice dropped an octave, grew rougher and smoother at the same time, and I shivered as if he'd stroked me with his hands. "I don't think the kids should see any of the things I plan to do to you tomorrow night."
"Right." If I'd been ashamed at the threat of tears earlier, I was even more appalled at the shaky arousal a single sentence could ignite. "Um. Yes. That makes total sense."
"I'll pick you up around six tomorrow morning." His low chuckle raised goosebumps over my skin and I had to fight back another sigh. "Get some sleep tonight, Jeannie Jackson. You're going to need your strength."
THE NEXT MORNING, I was sitting on the front steps when Abraham pulled up, looking the epitome of calm, cool, and collected, a to-go cup of coffee in one hand. I stared at him for a moment before saying, "You have no idea how much I hate you right now."