CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Donovan wasn’t at the station when Eva stopped by. But the ever-helpful and all-knowing Minnie directed her to the high school where he was dealing with “an issue”. She wasn’t sure what the issue was, but Eva wanted to make sure he’d accepted her apology, and the best way to ensure that was with food.
She’d seen the police reports that had taken up the entire first two pages of The Monthly Moon and knew he was running himself ragged trying to keep up with town-wide mischief.
This particular police issue appeared to involve the entire Blue Moon High School marching band hosting a sit-in on the school’s crosswalk. A beside-himself band director was flailing his arms with an invisible baton, and the band was ignoring him.
Donovan, tall, sexy, and weary, was consulting with teachers and parents on the sidewalk.
Eva spotted Evan with his trumpet sitting cross-legged next to the blue-eyed, blonde-haired junior high temptress, Oceana.
“Evan! What the hell’s going on?” she demanded.
“Oh, hey, Aunt Eva!” he said cheerily. “We’re protesting.”
“Oh, sweet Jesus, this town got you too,” Eva sighed under her breath. “What are you protesting?” she asked, picking her way through the students to kneel next to Evan.
“The band director is insisting that we play this stupid song that no one likes at the football game tonight.”
“What do you want to play instead?” Eva asked.
“Anything but his song.” Oceana rolled her pale blue eyes heavenward.
“Mr. Burke is getting a divorce, and he wrote this song about it. He calls it ‘Getting Taken to the Cleaners by a Wench’. It’s a lot of brass and drums, and everyone else is just supposed to march and frown.”
“Oh boy,” Eva muttered. “And when did he spring this divorce and angry man song on you guys?”
“Yesterday. He made us practice for four hours last night just so we’d get it exactly right because his wife is going to be at the game tonight. She already came to see Beckett about drawing up papers.”
“If I get him to agree to let you play another song, will you stop blocking traffic?” Eva asked.
“Yes, please.” Evan nodded. “But good luck. We tried being reasonable with him, and he was not open to it.”
“Excuse me, Evan’s aunt?” A boy with a tuba waved at her. “Could you make it quick? I really hafta pee, and I’m not going in the sewer drain like Willard did.”
“Give me a minute,” Eva said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
She stepped over kids and musical instruments and hurried to Donovan’s side.
“Ma’am, I don’t think arresting forty kids is going to help,” he explained to a harried teacher dressed in a lavender jumpsuit.
“We need to set an example,” she said, her shrill voice carrying far and wide.
“Excuse me, Sheriff. Do you have a moment?” Eva tugged on his sleeve.
She saw relief in his tired eyes. “Excuse me, Ms. Friendly.”
“Ms. Friendly wants to arrest half the high school?” Eva whispered as Donovan led her a few steps away.
“Usually she’s much more like her moniker,” Donovan sighed. “Everyone is insane.”
“You look exhausted. When’s the last time you slept?” Eva asked.
“I don’t know? Tuesday? What day is it?”
“My poor, handsome sheriff. It’s Thursday, and I brought you dinner. Baked ziti from Villa Harvest. My dad sends his compliments.”
“I love you, and I love your dad,” Donovan said, shoving his face in the bag to sniff. “I know we’re taking things slow and all, but I’m going to marry you, and we’re going to serve baked ziti at our reception.”
“I think Uranus is getting to you, too.”
Donovan yawned mightily. “I don’t care what Uranus does to me as long as you’re with me. As soon as I get this situation cleaned up, we should have a date. You can watch me eat the dinner you brought me.”
“What is the situation here?”
“I have no fucking clue. The band director is melting down and won’t talk. Just keeps muttering about going to the cleaners. Every time I try to talk to the kids, some teacher freaks out on me and tells me to arrest someone.”
“How about this? You sit down and eat some ziti. Give me a minute, and I’ll see if I can broker a truce.”
“Good luck,” he said, his mouth already full of fresh baked roll.
Eva took her chances with the band director. “Mr. Burke?”
He cut off his silent symphony mid-slice. “What?”
“The band will play tonight if you let them play another song.”
“No! Absolutely not! It must be that song!”
She patted his shoulder. He wore a worn tweed jacket with patches on the elbows. His hair hadn’t been combed in about a week. “I understand you’re going through a rough time, but the fastest, safest way to get these kids out of the street and stop them from using sewer drains as urinals is to let them play a different song.”
“How else am I supposed to stick it to my wife so she knows she’s being unreasonable?” Dejected now, Mr. Burke shoved his invisible baton inside his jacket.
“Have you considered the possibility that all of this is because of the planets crossing?” Eva suggested gently. “Maybe she doesn’t mean anything she says right now.”
He perked up. “Do you think that’s true?”
How the hell was she supposed to know? “Yes,” she said firmly.
Mr. Burke scuffed his toe on the sidewalk. “I don’t know. She said some pretty mean things,” he said, sending a pouty look over his shoulder at Ms. Friendly.
“Ms. Friendly is your wife?” she whispered.
“Yeah.” He sighed heavily. “She’s beautiful isn’t she? She told me she could do better, and I know she’s right.”
“Crap,” Eva breathed. She straightened her shoulders. “Mr. Burke. This is for you and your band and your marriage.” She grabbed him by the face and pulled him in for a loud, smacking kiss. Some smart ass in the drum section gave her a riff.
“Hey! That’s my husband!” Ms. Friendly fumed.
“We good?” Eva asked.
No noise came out of Mr. Burke’s open mouth, but his eyes were wider than Frisbees.
“The kids can play what they want?” she confirmed.
He nodded again and made a gurgling noise.
Eva dodged the purse that Ms. Friendly swung at her. “Okay, kids. You get to play whatever you want tonight at the game.”
They gave her a blaring crescendo… all except for the tuba kid who was making a beeline for the restroom.
“Get out of the street and get ready for the game,” she said, shooing them in the direction of the school.
Ms. Friendly, her arm locked through Mr. Burke’s, dragged him back into the building, promising that she was calling Beckett tonight to cancel the divorce papers.
“All in a day’s work,” Eva sighed. She turned to look for her exhausted sheriff, but another police cruiser pulled to a stop in front of her.
“Evening,” Deputy Layla called through the open window. “Looks like the situation is under control.” She got out of the car and watched the kids file into the school.
“It was just a misunderstanding. No harm, no blood,” Eva assured her.
Layla cracked her gum. “Good. Good. We’re seeing a little too much action around here these days.”
“Donovan looks exhausted,” Eva said.
Layla rolled her eyes. “Guy’s been on for seventy-two hours straight. I think he’s worried me and Colby are going to end up joining the rest of these Mooner zombies and burning down the super market or something. Where is he anyway?”
Eva bit her lip and pointed. Donovan was leaning against a mailbox, his long legs stretched out in front of him, the container of ziti in his lap. He was sound asleep.
“Ah, hell. Knew that was coming.”
Layla pulled out her phone.
“Are you calling for backup?” Eva asked.
Layla snorted. “Nope. I’m taking video. This is the last time he makes fun of me for falling down the bleachers doing security at the field hockey game.”
Donovan let out a soft snore and Eva clamped a hand over her mouth to hold back the laughter.
Layla pocketed her phone. “Okay, Sheriff. Rise and shine,” she said, kicking his shoe.
He shot to attention. “Huh? Oh. Hey, Layla.”
“You’re officially relieved of duty,” she said.
“Huh? Oh, right. Yeah. I’ll take off as soon as I figure out how to get these kids out of the crosswalk.”
Layla peered over her shoulder. “You mean the kids that are warming up for the big game?”
Donovan rubbed his eyes and then looked at Eva. “How’d you do that?”
“Made out with the band director. I hope you don’t mind.”
“You got forty kids off the street, made all those teachers stop yelling at me, and you brought me ziti. I don’t mind. I’m in love.”
Layla and Eva each took an arm and hauled Donovan to his feet.
“Okay, big guy. Eva here’s gonna make sure you get home. I’m telling Minnie that under no circumstances are you to be called before 8 a.m. tomorrow. Now get your ass out of here.”
Donovan took a stumbling step off the curb, and Eva held him up. “I don’t think you’re driving, Donovan.”
“His keys are in the ignition,” Layla said, jerking her chin toward his cruiser.
“I can’t drive a police cruiser!”
Layla shrugged. “Desperate times. See ya tomorrow, Cardona.”
Eva poured Donovan into the passenger seat and hurried around to the other side. She had to move the seat all the way up to accommodate her short legs. Eva turned the key and then realized she didn’t know where he lived. And he was sound asleep already.
He’d professed his love for her, and she had no idea where he lived. Of course, it was Blue Moon. She could just roll down her window and ask literally anyone on the street. They’d be able to tell her what magazine subscriptions he had and where he hid his spare key. But maybe a change of scenery would do him some good.
She pointed the car in the direction of her place. “Guess we’re having our first sleep over before our first date,” she murmured under her breath.
Donovan snored in response.