Brute of All Evil by Devon Monk

Author:Devon Monk [Monk, Devon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Odd House Press

Chapter Eleven

The word of Patrick Baum holding court in Ordinary had blazed through all the on-line sites. We were seeing license plates from California, Washington, Idaho, Utah, Nevada, Alaska, and Arizona. Traffic was a nightmare.

By sunset, all the motel signs were turned to no vacancy. The restaurants pulled extended hours to accommodate the larger dinner crowd, the bars were over maximum occupancy allowed. Even the grocery store parking lot was full.

It was good business, but made for a long damn day for all of us working with the public.

It was past midnight by the time I got home. The driveway was empty. Ryder was still gone.

I thought about making dinner and decided it was too late.

“Popcorn works, right?” I said as I wandered into the kitchen. I tossed a bag into the microwave, then headed upstairs for a quick shower.

I changed and settled on the couch, a warm blanket over my lap, dragon-pig on one side, Spud on the other.

I was slotted for backup on the emergency lines tonight. Jean was first, but with so many people in town, I kept my phone ringer up, knowing I’d get overflow.

So when my phone rang, I answered it without looking at the screen. “Police Chief Delaney Reed. What is the reason for your call?”

“Police Chief? I’d like to report a crime,” Ryder said on the line. His voice was soft and tired, but there was humor behind it too.

He sounded wonderful.

He sounded like he missed me.

“What kind of crime? Violent?”

“There’s a thief. She’s stolen my heart.”

“So cheesy,” I said.

“No, you don’t understand. It’s a heart of gold.”

I groaned.

“A heart of gold,” he repeated. “Which is very valuable. And it’s been stolen. So what are you going to do about it?”

“Can you identify the thief? Did you get a look at her?”

“She’s almost my height, has the softest brown hair, and these blue eyes…have you ever seen the dawn sky in spring just before the sun rises?”

“You are really spreading it on thick.”

“You wanted me to report the crime, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And describe the thief?”

“Yes.”

“These blue eyes,” he went on. “Like a spring sky before daybreak when everything is soft and possible.”

“Uh-huh. Eyes: blue. Hair: brown. Sounds like a fairly average description.”

“Oh, she’s not average. Do you want to know the best thing about her?”

“The best thing. About this thief who stole your heart?”

“Yes. The thief. Do you want to know the best thing?”

“I want all the facts. So let’s hear it.”

The door latch rattled, a key in the lock turned, and then the door opened. Ryder stepped into the little entryway. “She’s a part of my life. I couldn’t imagine my day, night, or whatever hour this is, without her.”

I thumbed off my phone. He pulled his away from his ear and looked at it. “Hello?” he said, bringing it back to his ear. “Hanging up on the victim of crime is very unprofessional.”

“I already heard everything I needed to hear.”

He shrugged out of his coat, hung it up, dropped his phone on the charger on the little shelf by the door, then started my way.

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