he detested the job. He never stopped complaining about all the assholes he had to take care of. So far none of them had been threatened, but they spent a whole lot of their time wasted, and that became his problem.
“Fuck you, man. Seriously, what’s up?”
“How’s the job going?” I asked. .
He groaned. “One of the socialites got high last night and threw up all over me.”
“See. I told you. No one has thrown up on me here.” I sighed. “I could use your help if you’re up for it.”
His tone grew serious. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Spill it. We promised we wouldn’t hide shit from each other.”
“I’m the sheriff now, I said. I was elected in early July. They held a special election, just so I could run.”
“The sheriff? Of what?” he asked.
“Of Pine Hills.”
“Oh holy fuck. You said you were moving there for some peace and quiet.”
“They needed my help,” I explained.
“You’ve always been a sucker for people in need. Jesus.” There was a rustling sound then he said, “what do you need me to do?”
“I want you to come here and be my deputy.” Not only would it help me, living here would be good for Barrett. He was continually frustrated by his rich clients, and here he’d have the opportunity to make a real difference. I wasn’t going to tell Barrett that though. I was going to let him think this was only for me. Then he’d be more likely to come and help.
“They've already got you as sheriff, what the hell do they need me for?”
“I can't work twenty-four hours a day, no matter how much I might want to.”
I hadn't found my peace and quiet. The nightmares hadn’t completely stopped. But I wasn't ready to talk to Barrett about them. Working constantly was a Band-Aid of sorts; it kept me from dwelling on them.
And honestly, I was good at the job. The town picked me for a reason, but my farmhouse was beyond neglected now. It was an actual disrepair. The dishes were piled up in the sink. There was something rotten in the refrigerator. And my poor dog was alone way too much.
I’d gotten Sadie, who was definitely mostly Labrador, as soon as I was elected sheriff. I brought her to work as often as I could. But she wasn't a trained police dog, so she couldn’t go out on calls with me. I thought about getting her trained, but I hadn't even had time to look into that process.
My sister had been after me for weeks to hire a maid. I put her off. I hated the idea of someone in my space.
But after I came home one night and saw that my sweet dog was out of dog food and her water dish was empty, I was ready to start looking for a maid to help out.
I filled my dog’s water dish up but I had nothing to feed her. I opened my cabinets and they were empty too. I felt like a real asshole as I drove to the grocery store. The dog deserved better. She hadn't been able to help with the nightmares, but sometimes she helped with the insomnia.
That night I typed up an ad for a maid and put it in the paper and online.
Immediately I had applicants. I set up a round of interviews, but the first three applicants didn't show up. The fourth applicant showed up, and I hired her. She seemed like a sweet girl. Like a moron, I didn't do a background check.
I knew better. I was just so freaking exhausted. It took all of my energy to make it through the day. I put everything I had into the job, and at night I had nothing left.
I was desperate so I hired her. On her first day, I came home to find the dishes still piled up in the sink. She’d bought groceries, but left them on the table without putting them away. The cheese was already warm and soggy. I tossed it in the trash.
I noticed the drawer where I kept pens and paper, and a little bit of cash -- a few tens and twenties -- was ajar. I pulled it open and the money was gone. I was pretty sure I smelled marijuana too. What the hell was wrong with this girl?
I doubted I was going to have to fire her because it looked like she wasn't coming back. I decided to give the search for a maid one more shot.