Chapter 2

Two

Damon

I stepped out of my police cruiser and evaluated the house in front of me. We’d been called in for another domestic dispute. My foot tapped as I waited for my brother McCrae to show up; he was also a cop in Refuge Falls. These days, the police had to do everything with another cop. Which was good. A little accountability went a long way.

McCrae pulled up in his own police car and bustled out. “How do you want to handle this, Chief?”

I began walking toward the door, signaling for him to follow. “This isn’t the first time with the Wilmingtons. Probably won’t be the last.” Old man Wilmington was a jerk. For years, his wife or the kids would call. Now, old man Wilmington was in his sixties, and today there had been a call from his wife again. It made me angry, but I forced myself to smother the anger. It didn’t do to go into any situation with a hot head.

McCrae cracked his knuckles, and I could tell that he was feeling the same things. “When are they going to finally file charges against this old man? He should have been in jail years ago.”

For an instant, I thought of Isla. I thought of her father. The trial. We’d been so young. She should not have had to go through that.

I pushed those thoughts away and focused on the situation. “All we know is that life isn’t usually fair, is it, bro?”

McCrae grunted at that. As we hurried up the steps, he took the lead and knocked at the door. “Police!” he announced.

It didn’t take long until the door was opened by Mrs. Wilmington. “Hi, boys. I shouldn’t have called.” She didn’t open the door all the way, just stayed crouched behind it.

I didn’t observe any bruising on her face or the parts of her arms I could see.

McCrae let out a long breath. “Mrs. Wilmington, you said your husband was trying to hurt you. Where is Mr. Wilmington?”

She shook her head and then let out a light laugh. “The funny thing is that we were both sleeping, and he is sleeping right now. It must’ve been a dream. Because I just woke up flustered.”

This was a new excuse. I had been on a couple of receiving calls with Mrs. Wilmington, and this was more creative than the ones before.

McCrae bit his lower lip and turned to me, wondering what to do.

My mind went through all the things that would happen, but if she wasn’t willing to press charges, all we could do was give a warning. There would be no charges. There would be no consequence for Mr. Wilmington, consequences that should have been a long time ago.

Just like every time I was faced with any domestic situation, I thought of the bruises all over Isla’s face that night. Of the way she’d cried and wished she didn’t have to press charges. Of the way she’d hung onto me as her body racked with sobs.

“Where is Mr. Wilmington, again?” I asked, jolting back to the present. “Where did you say he was sleeping?”

Mrs. Wilmington let out a light laugh. “Boys, could you please just go? Do we really need to do this?”

Suddenly, McCrae clenched his fist. “Yes, Mrs. Wilmington, we need to do this. Go get your husband. We need to talk to him.”

I agreed with McCrae, even though I could tell that his anger wasn’t in control.

Mrs. Wilmington frowned, then left the door slightly open. “Okay, I’ll see if he’s awake.”

While she was gone, I softly elbowed my brother. “Keep it together. You know protocol.”

McCrae gritted his teeth, and then his eyes flashed wider in understanding. Everything was caught on camera these days. All our conversations. “Of course, I know protocol. Protocol is checking out the situation. Protocol might be going and busting in the door and making sure she’s okay right now.”

Mr. Wilmington appeared at the door and threw it back, looking like he’d been sleeping. “Well, Police Chief Armstrong and his sidekick brother that I heard is up for sergeant. Is that right?” He studied McCrae.

McCrae didn’t respond.

I cleared my throat. “Mr. Wilmington, there’s been a call about some threats that were made. What do you have to say about that?”

He took a step back and put his arms up as if to surrender. “What?” His act was perfect. “Marge? Do you know about this?” He turned to his wife.

Mrs. Wilmington peeked out from behind him, looking frazzled and tired. “I think I was just doing that sleepwalking thing. I had a bad dream, and I thought I just called in my dreams. But I guess I didn’t.”

I coughed. “Ma’am, a dream is not something bad. That’s called a nightmare.” I didn’t know why I felt the need to correct her, but I did.

Everyone turned to look at me, including McCrae.

Mr. Wilmington broke into a false laugh. “Right. That’s right. Marge, I guess you had a nightmare. That’s what it was. A dream, as the police chief was saying, is something good. Something like our life . Something like the marriage we’ve had for almost forty years. Now, a nightmare is what you were talking about. Something that you would call the police and report.”

I could not take the way he was trying to act all innocent and the way he was correcting his wife. This situation in general was really ticking me off.

McCrae let out a low whistle with his teeth. It was the kind of whistle he used to let out right before we would fight someone on the playground. I’d become familiar with it as we’d been growing up, because I was always trying to keep my hotheaded brother out of trouble.

Mrs. Wilmington let out her own fake laugh. “Of course. I don’t know why I had that mixed up. I had a nightmare . I’m so sorry for wasting police time and resources.” She looked back and forth between me and my brother, putting on a brave face. The message there was something akin to please just let this lie, whatever it is.

McCrae shook his head and said, “I don’t think so.”

But before he could go down this path, I put a hand on his shoulder. “Officer Armstrong, I say we take it at face value. Clearly, Mrs. Wilmington had a nightmare .” I said the last word with emphasis. I turned and glared at Mr. Wilmington and then at Mrs. Wilmington. “If no one here is willing to file a report against the other, then I guess all we have is what Mrs. Wilmington said: a misuse of police resources.”

McCrae looked confused, and then he winced and took a step back. “I guess that’s all we have.”

I moved my glare back to Mr. Wilmington. “Because if we had filed a report, we would be able to take the person the report was filed against down to the police station and talk further. Probably a talk this person would not like.” Empty threats were really all I had without a report. It made me feel annoyed, and I wanted to ram my fist through Mr. Wilmington’s face. But I was the police chief. I was the one responsible for keeping everyone together. Including myself, and especially my brother McCrae.

Mr. Wilmington gave me a snarl. “As you pointed out, Chief, there is no one filing a report here today. You best get on your way and not misuse anymore of those police resources you’re talking about.”

Mrs. Wilmington melted from view.

I longed to smash something, but I only nodded and lightly bumped McCrae’s shoulder with my own. “Let’s get moving.”

McCrae hesitated and didn’t move off the porch. I got to the bottom step, but I stiffened when I heard another low whistle come out of him.

The door creaked as it opened wider, and Mr. Wilmington moved out onto the porch. He pointed at me. “Did you hear that, Chief? You need to get going, pig .”

As fast as I could, I was up the steps and grabbing my brother’s arm before he could land a punch. In fact, the way I yanked him back and onto the steps caused him to stumble. I would never let anyone know that he’d almost punched the man in the face.

We got to his car, and I opened the driver’s side door and waited for him to climb inside.

McCrae glared up at me as he sat. “Really?”

I tapped my nose twice, signaling to him that the cameras were on and I couldn’t comment.

He grumbled something else and then shut the door.

I moved toward my cruiser, ignoring another stream of threats from Mr. Wilmington. I kept my face neutral as I settled into the driver’s seat and turned on my SUV. Sucking in a long breath, I followed McCrae down the driveway and back to the highway. I knew that it had been a close one just now. Close because my brother had almost lost his temper and done something stupid. I didn’t like to reprimand him for it, because sometimes I longed to lose my own temper and do something stupid to men like Mr. Wilmington.

As I headed back into my sleepy town, I realized I’d come to think of it as my town. Especially two years ago, ironically right before my wife had left me and my two sons. I’d just been named police chief.

We drove back into the downtown area, passing a familiar sign that said, “Refuge Falls—A place to call home.”

I sucked in a long breath and then blew it out slowly. This was a place to call home. And I had to keep it together for everyone in this town. For my family, whom I loved dearly. I thought of my sons and their sweet, innocent faces. I thought of my mom and dad, my brothers and sister. This was home, and I would keep it together for all of them. Even if I couldn’t keep it together for myself.

I pulled into the station, where McCrae was waiting for me. He started speaking as soon as I stepped out of the cruiser. “Hey, sorry about that.”

I moved past him. “It’s fine.”

He pulled my arm, forcing me to a stop. “Would you just let me say thank you?”

I grimaced at him. “That’s my job. You never have to say thank you.”