over could come later.
Lola stood, tugging down her dress.
Suddenly, his arms felt empty, which was as crazy as his entire evening.
Lola marched uphill in the fog. “I’m going to take my gun and my fake husband and go home.”
“I’m going to take you in.” After the stunts she’d pulled today, who knew what she’d do in the wee hours of the night. Time in a jail cell would do wonders for her perspective and allow him to sleep tonight.
“You’re arresting me? On what charge?” Lola put her hands on her hips and stared him down with a haughty glance that pinged something inside Drew’s chest.
Drew was too well-trained to be distracted by mere pings. “Drunk and disorderly.” He holstered his weapon and checked the chamber in hers.
No bullets. Of course.
“I’m angry, Sheriff. Not drunk. Jeez, a twenty-four-hour grace period should apply to discovering your husband was a slimeball.” She kicked the grass, sending her skirt fluttering to tantalizing levels.
“Disorderly still applies.” Drew moved closer to inspect her victim. She’d dressed Randy the way he deserved, Drew supposed. In his skivvies. “Do you have a permit for this weapon?”
“I’m sure Randy did.” She grabbed the doll and tucked it under her arm like a surfboard. “You can’t arrest a widow for visiting her husband’s grave.”
“I can.” Blood pounded in his veins the way it did when his sisters did something stupid. Except Lola wasn’t one of his sisters. The fact that he kept sneaking looks at her legs proved that point. “Do you want me to add resisting arrest?”
“Seriously?” Lola didn’t seem upset. She wasn’t violent. She sighed, which was completely unexpected given the doll and the gun and the midnight visit to the cemetery. “Okay, but I’ll need to lock up the cemetery and return the key.”
“Fair enough.” And worthy of his respect. “Where did you leave your car?”
“In the circle by the crypts. I’ll get it tomorrow.”
It was the most ridiculous arrest of Drew’s career.
But he wasn’t laughing.
* * *
“He had it coming.” Lola crooned a line from Chicago to Stand-In Randy, who was propped in the cinder-block corner of her jail cell with a satisfied look on his plastic face, the creep.
Lola’s mother had taken her father’s leaving hard but she’d never been thrown in the Big House. She’d been caught outside Lola’s dad’s lover’s apartment with binoculars. She’d called Lola’s dad’s office at night just to listen to his voice on the answering machine. She’d lost more weight than was healthy, bought a push-up bra, and had her nose done. But an arrest record? Nope. Her mom hadn’t crossed that line.
Lola lay on a bench, feet doing choreography on the back wall. A black rooster huddled nearby, sleeping.
A door opened. Footsteps scuffled across the linoleum in the hall from the sheriff’s office proper.
She repeated the line from Chicago, tilting her head backward to see who approached.
It was Drew and Paul Gregory, who was shirtless (not a good look on him) and listing from side to side like an ocean buoy.
“You’re in luck, Lola.” Drew worked the key in the lock. “Paul needs the jail cell to sober up.”
“I don’t.” Paul bumped his face into the bars and then looked startled to have done so.
“He had it coming,” Lola sang half under her breath. She rolled to her feet, slipped into her rain boots, and linked arms with Randy, walking him to the cell door as Drew unlocked it.
Paul squinted and pointed at Randy, who was still in his boxers and wifebeater. “And you hauled me in for indecent exposure?”
“Drunk and disorderly,” Drew deadpanned, stepping back for Lola to exit before escorting Paul to the bench. “Don’t disturb Marvin, or he’ll crow.” It was the same advice he’d given Lola.
“I like a firm mattress,” Paul muttered happily, stretching out on the bench. “And fresh eggs for breakfast.”
“That’s a rooster.” Drew sounded as weary as Lola felt.
Lola hurried down the hall to the door separating the cells from the office proper, only to find it locked.
Drew ambled behind her. “Why is everyone always in a hurry to get out of here?”
Was that humor? The sheriff had lines of fatigue around his brown eyes, lines she was sure matched her own. But there was a hint of a smile on his face, one that contradicted the flat-lipped expression he’d had when he’d brought her in.
“I can’t speak for Paul or Marvin, but I want out because the acoustics are better in my shower.” Lola followed Drew through the security door