melted away.
“I work the Sunday morning shift,” he said, his voice low enough that the words wouldn’t carry across the asphalt. “Next week, before you start the engine, you call this number. I’ll come down, flip my lights on, and give you two a proper police escort around the neighborhood. We’ll see if anyone wants to complain about it then.”
I looked down at the scrap of paper, then back at him. My throat felt tighter than a rusted bolt. All I could manage was a slow nod.
The officer tipped his hat to Lily. “You enjoy the ride, sweetheart. I’ll see you next week.”
As he turned to head back to his cruiser, he didn’t just get in and drive off. Instead, he took a slow, deliberate walk across the street, heading straight toward Dale’s porch. I couldn’t hear what was said, but I didn’t need to. I
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