Previously: Riley’s involved in a mishap at a bar. Kellen helps her out and offers an olive branch.
“Kellen did what?”
“Apologized,” Riley repeated.
Shauna resumed pouring their liquid desert into stemless wine glasses. “Well, guess he still has some good sense in that head of his. Hope it lasts.”
Riley slouched into the cushions of Shauna’s dark leather couch and made a noise of agreement.
“Let’s get back to Griffin Varsho tackling you in a drunken stupor—”
Riley groaned over Shauna’s giggles. “He was lucky I have excellent reflexes, or else Kellen would have had to apologize while resetting my nose.”
Shauna laughed harder, fanning her face like she was trying to stop herself from crying. It didn’t work—tears squeezed out the corners of her dark eyes. “Griff is such a sweetheart. I’m sure he’s absolutely mortified now that he’s sobered up. You’ll probably get a gift basket and a dozen roses on your desk by the end of the week.”
Riley cringed into her wineglass. “Really?”
“Oh, ninety-nine percent sure.” She dabbed at her eyes with the collar of her green sweatshirt. “He’s adorable, and quite the gentleman, when he’s, you know, sober—which is usually. You’re not dating anyone, right? Not doing the long-distance thing?”
“Not for several months, no. Last one liked his car a bit more than me. Figured I’d get out of the way of true love.”
Shauna grinned and clinked their glasses together. “You should give Griff a chance to make up for his disastrous first impression.”
Riley closed her eyes and rubbed at her forehead. “I don’t need the added stress of dating on top of everything else I’ve got going on, thank you.”
She nodded sagely. “Of course. New house, new job, tough case. I get it.”
“Yeah.” That wasn’t the half of it, but Riley couldn’t mention the death-dreaming flare-ups, so she asked, “Is Griff, by chance, related to the Logans’?”
Shauna scrunched her nose. “I don’t think so. Why?”
“They just have a similar… vibe? I’m not sure how to describe it. They seem like they could be related.”
Several emotions flickered across her face, too fast for Riley to read. “Huh. That’s funny.”
“I thought Luke might’ve been a cousin as well. I bumped into him in front of the Post Office last Saturday.”
Shauna perked up. “Yeah? Was he rude?”
“He was nice enough. A little wary, maybe? He’s certainly not as reclusive as that woman at Rosie’s Diner implied. I saw him again at Bard Wring’s the day after yesterday. Bard had called him instead of the non-emergency line, which I still don’t get, but whatever.”
“Told you Dolores was full of it.” Shauna waved a hand in the air like she was dispelling the thought of the woman. “Anyway, Bard’s a good guy. I’m sure he didn’t want to stir up trouble by calling the police when he has plenty of people who’d be happy to help him out. Small communities stick together, you know?”
“A small community like Wolfrun, you mean?” Riley wasn’t going for sly or subtle this time around. “Bard invited me to the next barbecue. You should’ve seen Luke’s face.”
Shauna choked on a sip of wine. “Oh, God, I’m sure it was priceless,” she managed between coughs. “Bard outright said you were a Wolfrunner, huh? That’s interesting.”
“What, is there a trial period like the probation and town council approval for my job? Where is this mysterious Wolfrun boundary, anyway?” She studied Shauna. How hard could she push without straining their budding friendship?
“The local wolf pack doesn’t often venture past Deckard Street, so that’s where the invisible boundary, and nickname, come from.”
Riley glanced out the window into Shauna’s expansive backyard. “You’re on the Wolfrun side, then.”
“So are Andy, Greg, Ross, and you and Luke, of course. Plenty of Wolfrunners live in the burbs, so it’s not all that firm of a line.”
Ah. That’s one suspicion confirmed. “It’s not really a geographical thing, then.”
“It is and it isn’t, you know? No, don’t get that look. It’s not like a cult.” Shauna blew out a breath and planted a hand in her curls. “There’s not much more I can say about it.”
The statement rang true, but Riley got the sense plenty had been left unsaid. Her gut twisted a little tighter, already strained with tension from all the other dodges and misdirects she’d had to swallow lately. Riley’s cell phone rang before she could get another question out. She bit back her irritation and affected a pleasant tone. “Hi Ross.”
“I need you on Avege Trail road until you hit Lodger River. We’re winching a car out of the water,” he shouted over mechanical screeching. “I know it’s your on-call night, but Tony’s got another suspected arson and I’m needed there. Can you take over?”
Riley pulled her phone away from her ear and searched for directions. “Sure. I can be there in twenty.”
Shauna’s phone chimed with a text message as Riley hung up. Her, “Sorry to cut the evening short,” trailed off when she glanced over and found Shauna gaping at her screen. “Everything okay?”
It took her a moment to raise her head. “Uh-huh. Looks like I would’ve had to cut the night short anyway. It’s Ben.” No giddy reaction or smile followed. It couldn’t be good news.
“Is he okay?”
She was quick to reassure, “Yeah, he’s fine, just needs some help. Nothing serious.” An off-key note reverberated as truth overlapped a lie. “I better get out there.” Shauna flew off the couch, collecting their empty dinner plates to deposit in the sink.
Riley followed her into the kitchen. “You need any help?”
“You’ve just been called in, haven’t you?” Shauna stashed their half-full wine glasses in the fridge.
“I can call Ross back and beg off.”
Shauna shook her head and ushered Riley to the garage. “I’m just going to lend an ear, maybe offer some advice. I’ve got it.”
“If you’re sure.” Riley watched Shauna’s diminishing tail lights from inside her car, waiting for a slight prickle or headache. She’d gathered Ben was okay, but Shauna had lied about the situation not being serious. Riley’s radar remained silent, so Shauna should be fine. At least she’d better be, for Ben’s sake.
Obligatory Legal Stuff:
This chapter is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidences are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, locals, and events are coincidental.
No generative AI used. No AI training or scraping allowed.
All rights reserved.
Chapter Title Image created in Canva. Background image from Canva Pro.