CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Jackson
The police officer introduced himself as Officer Abbott and acted like he and Bee were old friends. He was also completely in love with her. That much was apparent from the dumbstruck look on his face as he watched her speak and the furious nodding he did as he wrote down what she said.
Can't say I blamed the guy at all.
Officer Abbott had taken photos of the graffiti first and then asked if we could head inside so he could get a statement. I gently steered Bee away from her damaged store and back into the restaurant, sitting her down so her back was to the window that faced the worst of the vandalism. I couldn't keep myself from brushing her arm, sweeping her hair back from her shoulder and pressing my palm to the small of her back. Just touching her. Just so she knew she wasn't alone. That I was here — fuck — that we were here. Outside of the window, Finn was furiously scrubbing away the graffiti. He looked like he was ready to scour the walls back to the studs if that's what it took to get it right for Bee.
We were here. She didn't have to do this alone.
"So," Officer Abbott said. "It happened again, huh?"
Bee was perched on the edge of one of our tables. Her back was straight and tall, and her hands were calmly folded in her lap. She looked perfectly poised and composed. But I liked to think I knew her well enough to recognize the signs of agitation. The high spots of color on her cheeks. The bloodlessness of her lips, and the biting clip to her voice as she said, "I guess so, Jerry," with a tight smile. "I guess it did happen again."
"Well you know, I promised to get to the bottom of this," Jerry said, looking rueful. "But I have to say, whoever is doing this times it for when our patrol car isn't going by."
"Seems that way," I interjected angrily
Bee shot me a look, and gave a slight shake of her head.
I grimaced, and looked down. It hurt like hell to hold my tongue, but I did it for her sake.
"So, I've been meaning to ask you," Jerry asked. "Have you any idea about who we should be checking out? You told me there was nobody who had it out for you."
Bee squirmed a little, leaning back and drumming her fingers against the surface of the table. "Well now, Jerry," she said with a sigh. "I'm afraid that's not entirely true."
Jerry leaned forward. "You have an idea who might've done this?"
I could see her swallow, the rise and fall of her delicate throat. "You mean who do I suspect?" she asked with a heavy sigh. "Well, there are a lot of people angry at me, I guess."
I sat up a little straighter, leaning forward. She caught the motion, and ducked her head looking reluctant. "Go ahead," I whispered.
"Well," she said. "There's my dad."
"Your own father?" Jerry asked, sputtering.
She laughed tightly. "Yeah, he's probably pissed at me for wasting the money he spent on my wedding," she said. "But spray paint isn't really his style."
Jerry looked completely dumbstruck. Just like how I felt. Bee looked down. "Then, there's my mother. She hates the fact that she has a divorced daughter. Totally ashamed of that failure."
She sniffed. "But she'd never risk getting her hands dirty. Or staining her clothes with black paint."
"Who else?" Jerry asked, furiously scribbling in his notepad.
She darted another look at my direction. "It's okay," I told her. And I was telling the truth. I didn't give a shit about her past. I only cared about being part of her present.
She looked down again. "Well, there's my ex of course." She pressed her lips together and looked so sad for a moment that I wanted to gather her up in my arms and hold her tight. "But I don't think it's him."
Jerry was leaning almost off of his chair. "Make sense to me," he said with a knowing nod. "Bitter ex-husband, wanting to intimidate his wayward bride."
Bee looked up sharply. "No. That's not his style at all," she said fervently. "Zach, he likes to pretend that this whole thing — the leaving him, the divorce — is all me just being irrational. That I'll realize my mistake, and come home to him any minute now." She spat her words out with such venom I was almost afraid for the guy. Almost. "Honestly?" she went on. "I think he cared so little about me that he wouldn't even notice that I was gone."
A flash of anger struck me, and I sat back in my chair. My hands curled around the arms as if they were her ex-husband's throat. I wanted to shake all of these people and scream in their faces, demand to know what the hell they were doing. Didn't they know who she was? Didn't they understand what they had?
At the same time, as I watched her with her head still held high, I was in awe of her. This was her family, her husband. And she'd left them, all of them, and struck out on her own.
This girl was incredible. There was no denying it.
Jerry asked another couple of questions, seeming to wrap up his investigation. He stood up, and Bee shook his hand, lifting her chin fiercely and looking him in the eye. "You're gonna fix it, right Jerry?" she asked, and her voice was clear and commanding, and I swear I was ready to join the police academy just so I could take care of it for her.
"I'm going to do my best, Beatrix," he said, and I sincerely believed that he was. "You take care now," he said, looking between me and her. Then his eyes rested on me. "You take care of her," he said seriously.
"Oh he's not..." Bee started to say...
But I cut her off. "I will," I said, looking her in the eye.
Her lips parted, and I saw her tongue flick out nervously twisting around and around and I had to strongest desire to kiss her right there in front of Jerry.
I got up from my chair and went to her, sliding my arm along the small of her back. At that moment, Finn came in from outside, reeking of solvent and looking royally pissed off. When his eyes landed on Bee, and me with my arms around her, I held my breath, wondering if I'd misread things. When I said she was our girl, I didn't realize how serious a claim that was until just now.
"Goddammit." Bee slid down into one of the chairs like all the wind had gone out of her sails. "I can't keep doing this."
A little ripple of fear went through my body. "Doing what?" I asked.
"Cleaning off my store!" she half-laughed, half sobbed and a small, mean part of me was relieved that that was all it was. "I mean look at it! Someone clearly doesn't want me here. Someone is trying to send me a message." She looked up and bright tears gleamed in her big brown eyes. "Maybe I should actually listen to them?" she asked.
"No," Finn growled.
She looked at him wildly. "Why not? I can't fucking do this anymore. Maybe I should just go home."
"To who?"
"My husband?"
"The guy that stepped out on you?"
"Well?" she said, half-hysterical. "I mean, it wasn't so bad, anyway. I didn't have to work so goddamned hard just to get by. That was nice." She swallowed back a choked sob. "And I didn't have an apparent army of vandals dead set on ruining my damn day."
"The police will find them," I promised her.
"Yeah but then what?" she asked. "I mean, what's keeping me here? Pride? I'm all alone..."
"No you're not," I interrupted.
Finn nodded and stepped to her. "No," he repeated, tilting her chin up with his fingers. "You're not."
"We'll help you," I said, squeezing her a little tighter. "We're here."
She swallowed and then something inside of her broke, I could see it. Whatever tension that had been wound way too tight suddenly snapped, and she collapsed against my chest.
"I've got you," I whispered, stroking her hair back as she sobbed against my shirt. "We've got you."
"You're okay," Finn echoed, rubbing her back. "You're not going to let this stop you."
"You're too talented," I added.
"And too damn smart."
"And fuck if you're not stubborn enough to make it happen just by sheer force of your own will," I observed.
She laughed through her tears and looked up at me and then down at my shirt. "I got you wet," she mumbled, dabbing at the soaked patch on my shirt.
I kissed her forehead. "Consider it payback for when I got you wet," I said with a grin.
She laughed and then sniffled and looked up at Finn who silently handed her a tissue. His eyes bounced from me to Bee. He stepped forward, and slid his arm around her back so that it rested just on top of mine. "Come on," he said, slipping right into mother hen mode. "You're exhausted, sweet girl." He looked over the top of her head, and caught my eye. I nodded, he nodded back.
Right. Got it. She was our girl.
"Come on sweetheart," I said. "We're taking you home."