Finn
I knewthe code was going to come over my radio before the static crackled and the dispatcher said, “Reported 10-68 on the corner of Fifth and Main.”
Squeezing the bridge of my nose, I prayed for patience, knowing I would need it for this situation.Give me drunk and disorderly any day over livestock, particularly this livestock.
Expelling a long breath, I opened my door and stepped out of my cruiser.Waffles turned his head, his white, gray, and brown face practically daring me to arrest him.I stood there, glaring at the miniature spotted donkey, the bane of my existence.
For several long moments, neither of us moved, staring each other down.If I moved first, he would bolt.Which meant I would be chasing a stubborn ass around town—potentially the entire county, if he was being particularly stubborn.That was a lesson he’d taught me the hard way.More than once.
Several minutes passed, neither of us doing more than existing as we had our stare-off.Vehicles passed on the street behind me, a few people calling out greetings from their windows.I continued to stay motionless, not lifting a hand or nodding in return.More than once, I heard someone laughing, because this was a small town and this was the most police activity that the citizens normally got.At least, that they knew of.
Finally, Waffles grew bored with me and returned to eating the prized rosebush right outside the florist’s shop.Fuck.Now, that?That was definitely going to cause drama.
And paperwork.Lots of paperwork.
“Dispatch, I am 10-23 of the 10-68,” I informed June, the dispatcher, that I was on-site with the livestock.
“Do you need backup, Sheriff?”she asked in her dry tone.She could have been dead serious or ready to bust a gut laughing at me.With June, it could go either way, depending on how many calls she’d already received on both the emergency and non-emergency lines regarding Waffles the donkey.
If she was calling in a 10-68, then she’d gotten at least one “emergency” call reporting the menace running amok in town.
“Negative.I have suspect in sight.I’m going to round him up and take him home.Mark me as 10-7 until further notice.”
“Will do,” she affirmed then half cackled as she said, “Good luck!”
As I approached Waffles, the front door of the florist’s shop opened, the annoying bell jangling as it was angrily yanked back.The donkey’s head snapped around, his face changing as he appraised the person interrupting his midday snack.
“I want to press charges!”Hilary shrieked.“That rosebush has won awards!Creswell Springs would have never been dubbed the quaintest Main Street in the state if it weren’t for my roses.”
“You want to press charges against a donkey?”I asked, my tone neutral.
Heat filled her face, but instead her of backing down as I hoped, her embarrassment only made her angrier.“No, Finn.I donotwant to press charges on adonkey.I want to press charges against his owner.She needs to take responsibility for that pest!All he does is run around this town, not a care in the world, completely unchecked.Destroying property.”
In total, the only “property damage” Waffles had committed was eating the occasional flower and relieving himself on the sidewalk or grass.When I got calls about that, it was generally only because someone was unhappy they stepped in a steaming pile.Because apparently watching where they stepped was too big an inconvenience for some people.
Hilary pointed aggressively toward the little guy.“That creature is not only a nuisance, but with the way he trots around, he could place the citizens in peril.”
I tucked my hands into my bulletproof vest, raising my brows at her.“How do you figure that, Hilary?”
“He could cause an accident with how he bounces up and down the street, stepping in front of a vehicle.Drivers are always having to swerve to avoid him.”
As much as Waffles irritated me, I was fond of the little guy.So was the majority of the town, including my mother, who happened to be the mayor.Hilary was one of the few residents who got grumpy over Waffles.Most of the calls I received regarding the donkey were more to report sightings, primarily so they could then watch me corral the little beast before returning him home.
Which happened to be my favorite part of every shift.
Waffles stayed out of the road, keeping to the sidewalks or yards.He had made friends over the years and often stopped at the elementary school throughout the day.All the kids carried treats for him when they were out on the playground, just in case they got to see him.
With how he was taking his time munching on the roses, I would bet he’d gotten his fair share of carrot sticks and apple slices earlier in the day.
He was Creswell Springs’s unofficial mascot.
“Is your bush insured?”I tossed out the first question that I knew would throw her off.
Her face turned beet red, and she made a choking noise that suggested her mind had gone straight to the gutter at my question.Like I knew it would.Hilary and I had grown up together.She had a dirty mind and had had a huge crush on me since freshman year of high school.In senior year, I’d taken her to homecoming because we were both up for homecoming king and queen.That night, she’d shown me how dirty she could be, which eighteen-year-old me had thought was hot, but not worth a repeat.Ever since, she’d been a bitch to me.Even though no one could miss the hope that filled her face every time I got so much as an inch closer to her than usual.“E-excuse me?”
“The flower bush,” I said, enunciating each word slowly and precisely.She’d never been the brightest bulb in the pack.Hilary had barely graduated.She owned the flower shop because her grandma had left it to her in her will.I’d give it to her, though—she had zero talent with flower arrangements, but she did have Miss Hester’s green thumb and could grow almost anything in her hothouse.“Do you have insurance on it?”
“Not on that bush, specifically.But I have a policy for the property and the contents.”