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“You really think he would? This is where people get medicine. This place is vital. It saves people’s lives. Why would he do this?”
A shiver runs through me. I have a good idea about what would set him off so much to go to such extremes — he must’ve seen me go to Hunter’s house. And spend the night.
The thought that Jay knows I spent the night with Hunter both fills me with revulsion and joy; what Hunter and I shared is private. It’s none of his business, but I also draw a small amount of sick joy in Jay knowing that I was with someone other than him. I hope it ate him up. I hope he felt sick to his stomach over the thought that I was with another man.
“He would.”
There’s more I want to say, but I stop as soon as I see Officer Abrams walking toward us. His hands are on his hips, his face — including a bushy brown mustache that’s in sore need of a trim — screwed up in what I assume he thinks is an authoritative frown, and his eyes rake over me with sick secondhand possessiveness; he and Jay have been talking about me, I bet.
“Why don’t you walk me through what you think happened here?” He says, removing a notepad from his jacket pocket and opening it with a flourish that wouldn’t even be worthy of a B-list cop movie.
Maggie raises an eyebrow. “I came in early—”
“Early? So you were the first one on the scene? That sounds suspicious, if you ask me,” Abrams mutters as he scrawls in his notepad. His handwriting would make a doctor’s handwriting look like calligraphy.
“No, it’s called being responsible. Our shingles vaccine clinic starts this afternoon, and I wanted to make sure everything was prepared for it. Of course, now we’ll have to postpone the clinic because some malicious manchild threw this despicable tantrum.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions, ma’am,” he says.
“Don’t think that just because you’re completed a six-week law enforcement course and are wearing a badge that you can patronize me. We both know who did this, officer. Your good friend Jay. Where is he?”
“I have no idea what you’re referring to, ma’am. Now, I’m going to let that first transgression of yours slide, but if you continue to mouth off, I’m going to have to take you in for obstructing an officer in the line of duty.”
There’s such a sly smirk on his face that I can’t help but open my mouth. “You can’t talk to her like that, you jerk.”
Abrams' eyes snap to me, his smirk transforming into a scowl. "Excuse me, miss? I don't believe I was talking to you."
"Well, you are now," I say, stepping forward. My heart is pounding, but I refuse to back down. "This is Maggie's store. She has every right to be upset about what happened here. And we both know exactly who's responsible."
"You'd do well to watch your tone," Abrams growls, his hand moving to rest on his holstered gun. "Unless you want to join your friend here for a trip downtown."
"Are you threatening me?" I ask, my voice rising. "Because that sounds an awful lot like an abuse of power."
Officer Alvarado appears at Abrams' side, her expression concerned. "Everything okay over here?"
"Just fine," Abrams mutters, not taking his eyes off me. "These ladies were just about to tell me what they know about this incident."
"I already told you," Maggie says, exasperation clear in her voice. "I came in early to prepare for the vaccine clinic and found the store like this. That's all I know. Yet this officer keeps suggesting that I know more, or that I might even be responsible, as if I’d do something so terrible as vandalize my pharmacy.”
“Is this true?” Officer Alvarado says, looking at me.
I nod. “It is.”
“They’re lying,” Officer Abrams says, snorting, then following that up by derisively spitting on the ground. “And they’re both clearly hiding something.”
“You impertinent little man,” Maggie says. “All you have done this morning is harass me with your pathetic accusations and insinuations.”
“It’s not my fault that my questioning sets you off. Maybe it’s your guilty conscience. Maybe you’re upset that I’m getting too close to the truth about what you did here. Plenty of people get pissed off about their work — maybe their bosses make them angry, maybe they feel like they don’t get paid enough, maybe they take up a drug habit — and they act out and do something stupid. I’ve seen it time and time again,” Officer Abrams says.
“You see it every time you get up and look in the mirror, you jackass,” Maggie snarls.
“Calm down, all of you,” Officer Alvarado says, holding her hands out.
“I’m calm. It’s these two who are acting like suspects. Maybe it’s their time of the month.”
There’s such a snide sneer on his face that I can’t help myself — I slap him.
It feels so good.
