“I understand,” Fern nodded.
“Well, I don’t.” I stepped forward, blocking the sheriff from my aunt. “Fern is a good person. This whole thing is ridiculous. Why can’t you let it go?” I hated that I sounded desperate. But let’s face it, I was. I didn’t want Fern to be dragged off in handcuffs.
“Because it’s the law.” Cole took a step toward me, hands fisted at his side. He lowered his voice. “Charlee, please don’t be difficult. It’s not like I want to do this.”
With him standing so close, I had to look up at him. “Then don’t,” I pleaded softly.
The scrape of Fern’s chair on the tile floor broke the moment. “Charlee, it’s fine. Your brother Noah will get this straightened out, and I’ll be home by lunch.” I didn’t know how she could sound so chipper.
“All right.” I stepped out of the way, as Cole motioned for Fern to go ahead of him. Thankfully, he didn’t cuff her. Out the living room window I could see the coroner van had arrived along with another police car. Cole opened the back door of an SUV with Sheriff emblazoned on the side.
What a day this was turning out to be. Returning to the kitchen, I found my phone on the counter and hurriedly dialed my brother.
“What do you mean you can’t do it?” I shrieked into the phone.
“I’m sorry, Charlee,” my brother Noah replied calmly, like he hadn’t a care in the world. At least not about his aunt, it seemed. “Ethan has a jujitsu match. I missed the last one because of work, and I promised that I’d make it to the next one.”
“Can’t you just go to the next one then?”
“No, Charlee, I can’t. I’m sorry. Fern will be fine,” he placated.
“No, Fern will not be fine.” I glanced out the window into the backyard and saw a black bag on a gurney being rolled through the yard. My stomach resumed its churning. “Okay, what about Dad? Aren’t you at their place for lunch right now?”
“Yeah, I just got here. And no, Dad can’t do it because his license is inactive. He’s retired, remember?”
“Dad is not retired. He’s the mayor,” I replied dramatically. Sometimes it felt like my dad thought he was the mayor of New York City, and not a small town on the Oregon Coast.
“Yeah, I know. He doesn’t like to let us forget it,” he chuckled. “Look, I’ll call Preston. I’m sure he’ll be available.”
“No,” I groaned. Preston Brooks was Noah’s partner at their small firm. He was a nice guy, if you liked the nerdy, socially awkward type. “I don’t think—”
“Charlee, Preston handles most of the criminal stuff in our office anyway. He’s got way more experience with this than me, and is the best one for the job.”
“Fern’s not a criminal,” I corrected.
“I know, but she’s being charged with a crime.” My brother was starting to get impatient.
“Fine. Is Preston still single?” I asked, then immediately regretted opening my mouth.
Noah laughed. “Yeah. Why, you interested?”
I knew that was coming. “No.”
The last time I saw Preston was two years ago at a Christmas event at my parents. He clung to my side like gum on the bottom of my shoe for three hours. Longest evening of my life.
“He really is a nice guy,” Noah jibed. “He’s smart, financially stable, loyal—”
“And nerdy and six inches shorter than me,” I finished for him.
“Charlee, you shouldn’t be discriminating against someone because of their height,” he feigned offense. “Actually, if you want tall, I hear the sheriff is—”
“Stop!” I’d had enough of this conversation. “Okay, call Preston, and tell him I’ll meet him at the station.”
“Will do. Bye, Sis.”
“Bye.” I ended the call, then wished I would have asked Noah not to give Preston my number. I would hate to be forced to do something rude like block him.
Unfortunately, less than ten minutes later, I received a text from Preston, saying he would meet me at the police station in a half hour.
When I arrived at the station, Preston was already sitting on a bench in the lobby. Wearing khakis and a long-sleeve dress shirt with an argyle sweater vest, he looked at least a decade older than he was, which was close to forty, I think. He stood and came to greet me, smiling so wide, I thought his face might split open.
Great. Here we go again.
“Charlee.” He extended his hand, and I reluctantly took it. “It is so good to see you. Why, you just get prettier all the time.” Glancing up at me through his thick-rimmed glasses, I did my best to muster a smile. He was here to help Fern. And boy, did we need help.
“Thank you,” I replied sweetly. “So, what’s the plan of attack?” I figured if I didn’t get to the point, Preston would be making moon eyes at me the rest of the afternoon.
Preston blinked several times, like he was trying to clear his head. “Well, I think this should be relatively simple. Your aunt doesn’t have a record, and she’s well known and liked in the community, so I believe there’s a good chance she’ll be released on her own recognizance.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
“But she has been charged with a felony that can carry up to a five-year prison term—”
“Five years!” I yelped. “Okay, we need to go find Fern fast and get her out of here.”
Preston patted my arm. “It’ll be all right. I’ll get this sorted out, Charlee.”
I stood motionless as he consoled me, grateful when he left and went to the reception desk. He returned a minute later, and motioned for me to follow. “The sheriff has agreed to see us.”
My shoulders slumped. I didn’t want to see Cole again, at least not today, but I shuffled behind Preston as we made our way to the sheriff’s office.
Cole was seated
