Chapter 14

I hadn't expected Cameron to show up, and I sure as shit hadn't expected Will to publicly put it into the universe that we'd hooked up.

It went completely against the agreement we'd made to keep our connection experimental and casual, but damned if I wanted him to take it back. It's not like we weren't allowed to date, so why the hell not? The not-wanting-him ship had sailed a long time ago, so I'd take what I could get until I inevitably screwed it up.

My family had a few bright spots, like my grandparents. They were my dad's parents and so completely unlike him. My grandparents had encouraged my reading and always asked me about it. When my grandma tried to teach me to cook after my mom complained about how bad I was at it, my dad had a full-on meltdown right in their kitchen. Grandma never tried again.

Since I was on duty now, I knew I should go find Cameron so we could head out on patrol. But he'd been on the phone nonstop with Laken, and it didn't sound good from what I could hear on this end. I was surprised the dickhead boyfriend let him talk so much, but maybe he was at work or at least out of the house. Last I heard, his boyfriend was between jobs because his boss "refused to understand him." That sounded like code for his ass got fired.

"Hagen, do you have time to investigate a possible burglary?" Our dispatcher, Holly, popped her head up from her control board to call over to me.

"I'm there. Let me get Cameron. Where's it at?" I'd been putting off interrupting Cameron, but this would take precedence, and if it provided us some information on the fucking burglaries—another hit had been discovered this morning—then I'd do it now.

"You might not need to take him. Jonas called the non-emergency line. He said his crew found a trespasser living in Cal Rutledge's garden shed. From the sounds of it, the guy has been there a while. Jonas said the kid wasn't trying to run or fight with him, which is why he didn't call 911. If you want to head over there now, when someone else is free, I can send them."

"Yeah, okay. Leave Cameron here. I'll head over now."

Cal Rutledge's estate was something else. The stone pillars were flanked by iron gates with impressive spikes. On the other side of the fence was a mixture of cleared gardens and cultivated woodland space.

Jonas's directions, provided via Holly, sent me past the impressive Pacific Northwest-style house with its big windows and sloping rooflines. I could see the water on the other side of it. Where his property was situated would allow him to see the channel leading to the open ocean and the entrance to the Sound shipping channel.

The road curved and wound through his estate until I finally found the small garden shed at the far end of the property. It was less manicured back here, and I saw what looked like a greenhouse, a kitchen garden, and a small garden shed. Jonas's truck was still there, and the door to the shed was open. I heard several distinct voices from inside, but no one was shouting. So far, so good.

It always paid to be cautious during a new interaction. Chief was the one who drilled that into our heads. He said—and was right—that half the escalation injuries could be avoided by stepping quietly onto a scene.

When Cameron and I worked together, he let me take point whenever possible because he was the kind that went in like gangbusters and pissed people off. I'd rather stop and assess before cracking skulls. It wasn't always possible, but it worked more times than it didn't.

Of course it was one more thing for my dad to complain about with our department because real cops busted skulls or some such bullshit. I'd had more lectures about how old-school cops knew how to handle shit than I wanted to think about. Sometimes, I thought my dad wouldn't be satisfied until I was killed on the job, and then he could brag about his dead hero kid.

Crossing the threshold, it took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Three men were already in the small shed, so my addition had us all crowded. Jonas was closest to the door and looked pissed off, but he was quiet. Cal Rutledge, who I only knew by name, was on the other side. He looked more bored than angry. Between them was the presumed trespasser. His age was hard to judge. He sat on a turnover crate with his head hung low.

It looked like he'd been living out here with a makeshift bed. He seemed ready for clubbing in short shorts and a crop top. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, but given the smudges underneath, I'd bet money on crying rather than drugs. When my eyes adjusted, I saw he was an adult, but not by much.

"Hey, Jonas." I crossed over and shook his hand. He reciprocated but kept his eyes on the guy sitting on the crate. Turning around, I headed to the other side of the room to introduce myself. "Mr. Rutledge, I'm Officer Hagen with AIPD. Jonas and I are cousins." Rutledge shook my hand with a firm, solid grip. He watched the kid too.

Last, I turned to the younger guy, and after a more thorough assessment, he looked in rough shape. The clothes were threadbare with unraveling seams. The shoes looked like a few more steps would take the soles completely off. Maybe he was naturally slender, but the sunken eyes and hollow cheeks made me think this guy hadn't had regular access to food for quite a while. His hair was mostly clean but looked dry and brittle.

I briefly looked around the room to see if there were any signs of burglary tools or stolen items. At first glance, nothing stood out to me. The temporary bed was neatly made with a torn sleeping bag and threadbare blanket but no pillow. There was a box with some personal items, but nothing that looked like stolen stuff, and the bicycle in the corner looked like the tires were held together by a prayer and a wish. This kid might be trespassing, but I'd be shocked if he had anything to do with the burglaries.

"Hello, sir. Like I said to Mr. Rutledge, I'm Officer Hagen." I held my hand out for him to shake, but he only looked at it and gripped his arms tighter around his torso.

Okay, let's try another tact."Do you have any ID?" The boy shook his head but still didn't speak.

"What's your name, sir?" The boy didn't answer but sounded like he was trying to swallow a whimper.

"Sir, I need your name. I don't know all the charges that might be coming here, but please don't make me add ‘failure to identify' to the list." I crouched to talk to him, but he lunged away from me. This kid was not made for a life of crime.

Cal Rutledge had been standing back and watching the interaction silently. When he spoke, his voice rang with authority. "Boy, tell him your name." Well, alrighty, Daddy.

"My name is Micah Morgan. I promise I didn't steal anything, and I don't know anything about any burglaries." He'd spoken barely above a whisper. It was shaky, but I couldn't tell if it was from fear, cold, or some combination of both. Fuck, I didn't want to arrest this guy.

"Thank you for telling me. Did someone give you permission to be here?" He didn't answer aloud but shook his head.

Micah's head hung so low that his chin was practically at his chest. That same chin wobbled in an effort not to cry. Either this kid was the best actor around and needed to head to Hollywood immediately, or he was terrified. My money was on the second option.

"If no one gave you permission, then it's trespassing, and you'll have to leave. Mr. Rutledge has the option of pressing charges, but we don't typically put people in jail for trespassing. If charges are pressed, you'll need to appear in court to answer for them." The kid couldn't hold it together anymore, and tears streaked down his cheeks.

Shit, this kid was in a bad way, and I hoped like hell Rutledge didn't want me to arrest him. Maybe Will had some ideas for how to help? Houselessness was high in the Pacific Northwest, and we had encampments everywhere. Almstead Island had significantly less than most areas though. The ferry being the only way on or off the island made it difficult and somewhat expensive to get here.

There were jobs in town, but it was much more likely that a local the employer knew would get the job. Clearly, something happened for the kid to end up like this, but my gut told me it could be chalked up to a serious run of bad luck or maybe just one big catastrophic event. Either way, he wasn't likely to be a criminal.

Rutledge had been standing back watching me talk to Micah but hadn't interfered. When the tears started, I turned to look at him. He studied Micah with a grim expression. Fuck me. This rich asshole was going to want the kid arrested. His eyes were cold and looked completely unaffected by the kid's tears. When I arrived, I thought Jonas would be the one ready to bury the kid, but I guess I was wrong on that one.

Will had told me he mostly worked with grants, but he was a social worker. Surely, someone at the hospital would have ideas that didn't involve arresting this guy. Social services were for little kids and older people, so I knew he wouldn't be covered by them. If Rutledge wanted charges, I'd do it, but it would piss me off. This kid looked seconds away from collapsing.

"Officer Hagen, Jonas, may I speak with you outside?" Rutledge turned to the kid and spoke harshly. "Do not move from that spot. Am I clear?" The kid gave an abrupt nod but didn't answer aloud. Here it comes—arrest him and get him out of my shed. I gestured for him and Jonas to go in front of me. Fucker.

Jonas started talking the minute the door was closed behind us. "Shit, Beckett, I'm sorry I called you guys on him. After lunch the other day, it was on my brain to be suspicious of comings and goings. When I went into the shed today, that's immediately where my mind went, and I called right away. If I'd stopped and looked for two minutes, I'd have realized he was just a trespasser."

He stopped to take a breath before turning to address Rutledge. "I'll get him out of here and make sure the locks are changed today." At least Jonas had some sense, and he was just pissed at himself.

Mr. Rutledge turned to me. "I've heard about the string of burglaries, and if I remember the article I read, you're the officer who was injured in one, right? Jonas told me a homeowner was also injured recently." He still had that pissed-off expression that had grown the more he'd looked at the kid.

"What? Small-town gossip, and all the locals know McCade was taken to the hospital by ambulance," Jonas said with a shrug after I glared at him.

"Yeah, that was me, but it wasn't serious. They didn't even keep me in the hospital overnight," I jerked my head toward the shed before continuing, "I'd bet money this kid is just a trespasser and not a burglar. He's not the guy who hit me, and he doesn't match the description we have from anyone else either."

"Give me a minute." Rutledge turned abruptly and headed toward the shed again. "I want to speak with him, and then we can decide what to do."

"Uhh, sir, I can't let you do that. Technically, he's a suspect in a crime, even though we both know it's a minor one that will come to nothing more than a warning and maybe a fine." The kid didn't appear dangerous, but I sure as shit didn't need to find out I was wrong. Rutledge needed to know I wasn't going to try and screw this kid over with a bunch of bullshit charges. Yeah, he shouldn't have been in the shed, but the crime of the century it wasn't.

Rutledge stilled and let out an annoyed huff. "If he gives his permission and I leave the door open, would that suffice? I significantly outweigh him, and there is no damn way he's got a gun or knife hidden on him. He's barely dressed."

"Fine." I walked back into the shed, and the kid had not moved a muscle from where we'd left him. "Mr. Morgan, Mr. Rutledge wants to speak with you privately. Are you okay with that? He's going to leave the door open, and I'm right outside." The protectiveness I felt toward the kid made no damn sense, but I didn't know… I felt some kind of way toward him. I knew in my gut it had been a long-ass time since anyone gave a shit about this kid.

Will must have a magic dick because I was thinking all sorts of fucked-up things today.

With the kid's permission, I stepped out of the shed so Rutledge could enter and waited for their conversation to finish. Jonas returned to his truck to put his landscaping gear away. It couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes before Mr. Rutledge and the kid came out. Well, damn, Rutledge was carrying the milk crate of personal stuff and the kid was wrapped in the blanket from the bed.

"Officer Hagen, thank you for coming over, but no report is needed. It appears this was nothing more than a misunderstanding. Jonas was unaware that Mr. Morgan had permission to stay here." Rutledge had that look on his face that rich people used to dismissing others had perfected.

Uh, fuck that.

"Mr. Morgan, I'm glad that it was just a misunderstanding. Do you need me to give you a ride somewhere? I can drop you off somewhere on the island or get you to the ferry if you need to get to the mainland. Hell, if you need to go somewhere on the mainland, we can get you there too." I'd never heard anything bad about Rutledge, but people usually tried to hide the shit they did, so that meant nothing. Abandoning the kid here wouldn't fix shit for him.

The kid looked at Rutledge, then looked back at me. "No, thank you. I can get to where I need to go on my own." He seemed calmer than before, and Rutledge looked less pissed.

"May I ask where you're going so I can close out my report?"

"You can reach me through Mr. Rutledge." I didn't know what was going on, but obviously, I'd missed a fuckton of backstory. What the hell happened in that shed?

"Okay, if I'm not needed, I'll head out." I paused to pull a card from my pocket and hand it to the kid. "Here's my card. If you need further assistance, please call the station." I turned to Rutledge and gave him a card as well, "Sir, please let me know if there are any other misunderstandings. I'm going to check back in with both of you in the morning."

Rutledge answered for both of them, "Thank you again, Officer. You will be able to reach both of us at the main house number. I believe the chief has it on file at the station. We work on several committees together for various charity organizations. If you'd like to stop by to check on everyone's well-being, you are welcome to do that as well."

That last bit went a long way to reassuring me about his intentions.

Shit. I had hoped this would be the break on the burglary issue.

Cameron had already spoken with Cap about the car he saw, so there was no point in me going to see him again. If there was any information back on the plates, Holly would notify me. I wasn't scheduled to be on active patrol until this afternoon, so no one expected me back at the station.

My subconscious must have known where I needed to go because I found myself pulling into the back lot of the hospital. Shit.

Seeing that guy at Rutledge's place had really fucking bothered me. It was obvious he needed assistance, and I didn't have a single option for him.

Back in the day, a cop's sole job was to enforce the law. The world had changed since then, and now it was more than that. We were mental health workers and social workers and mediators and whatever the fuck else we needed to be. I didn't know if that was fair or right, but it was the reality.

My dad continued to rant about how I needed to smack heads and line them up, but he didn't know shit about our department. Just thinking about what it would be like if he were my boss made me send a thankful prayer to the universe that he hadn't gotten the chief's job when he applied a few years ago. Given how much he bitched about how pissant we were, I was surprised he applied. Most likely, he liked the idea of having a little fiefdom of his own.

It didn't take long to get directions to Will's office. The maze of corridors was pretty standard for hospitals, and I finally found him in the back corner of the third floor. The door was open, so I walked in. He wasn't expecting me, so I got to watch when the surprise registered and then the delight. Damn. The man fucking glowed, and some shit in my chest melted that I hadn't even recognized was frozen.

"Well, hi there, Officer Hagen, you are my favorite surprise." How could this man make me fucking blush every damn time? I wasn't sure if I loved or hated it.

"This is official business."

Will sat up straighter in his chair, put on a professionally neutral face, and said, "In that case, how may I help you, Officer Hagen?"

I briefly explained what had happened at the Rutledge place. "Are there any services available to people like that on the island? All I could come up with was social services, but that's just kids and elderly people."

Will looked thoughtful when he leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and tapped a pen against his lips. "They also handle vulnerable adults, but if this man doesn't have an intellectual disability or other mental health issues, there's nothing they can do for him. Really, even if he did, there wouldn't be a lot either. The waiting lists are prohibitively long for most things."

"No, I think this guy's biggest problem is that he's without housing. Maybe mental illness is a factor, but he didn't have any of the usual signs. Nothing said he was a danger to himself or others." When I stopped by tomorrow, I'd see if I could subtly ask some questions about it.

"We are both blessed and cursed out here when it comes to unhoused people. There isn't a tremendous number here, especially compared to the mainland, but we also have very few services in place within our community for the ones that are here. Let's be honest. Most people out here are solidly middle class or above. Those struggling typically fall between the cracks."

Listening to Will while he sounded so fucking competent made my dick chub. Not the subject because that was depressing as hell, but Will in his element and being so smart? New kink unlocked.

"May I ask you a question?" Will's voice was a little hesitant.

"Yeah, what?"

"What was it about this guy that made you so interested in these kinds of services?" Will's voice was calm and neutral.

"Fuck if I know. I felt…" I stopped and blew out a breath before continuing, "I felt a kinship to him that makes no fucking sense. I'm like ten years older than him, give or take, and it wasn't sexual, in case you were wondering." I said that last part in a whisper after looking around to make sure no one else was listening.

Will gave me a self-deprecating smile and rolled his eyes. "I thought about it for about half a second before I told myself I was being a dumbass. You aren't that kind of guy, and I know it." He flashed me that wicked grin he saved only for me. "And I'd change out your shampoo for jalape?o juice if it had been."

I threw my head back and laughed. This man was turning me into someone I didn't recognize, but I didn't want him to stop.

"Okay, work talk is done. Tell me more about the family fun day."

Shit. I was trying to block it from my memory.

"It's set up at my aunt and uncle's house, and everybody descended en masse for a chaotic day of eating, drinking, arguing, annoying the piss out of each other, and catching up. I don't know what there was to catch up on since everyone is already in the group chat and never stop gossiping." I permanently deleted that shit off my phone.

It started in the morning, dragged on all afternoon, and ended at night with a bonfire and s'mores. Okay, the last part was all right. Attendance was mandatory, with fewexceptions. I loathed every minute of it. It was absolute torture. It might be okay if I could bring my book or e-reader, but all items like that were banned at the property line. No reprieves were allowed, and all in the name of family togetherness. I fucking hated it.

That was all too much to explain, so I grunted instead.

"Fantastic. I can't wait."