she said, dishing up his food once again.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” he said as she carried it over.
He didn’t have the energy to get up for something so trivial, she realized. He seemed grateful for the food, though.
Before she could fill the bucket she planned to use, her phone rang. She’d kept her ringer on in case Petra needed her. But when she checked her screen and saw it was Sly, she winced.
“Is that about your son?” Dawson asked.
She hesitated. Her new boss had been so intent on his dinner she hadn’t expected him to be paying any attention to her, whether her phone was ringing or not.
“Because, like I said, you can go,” he added.
“No. It’s not my son.”
“You don’t seem pleased to hear from whoever it is.”
“I’m not. It’s my ex.”
His chewing slowed. “Does he know I offered you the job—and that you accepted it?”
“Yes.”
“What’d he have to say about that?”
“He was sure to...make his displeasure clear.” And to send his cop buddies over to the diner to make the ramifications even clearer. She considered telling Dawson about that incident, thought maybe he should know that Sly had a lot of friends on the force, so he’d understand their bias if he ran into it. But she couldn’t be entirely sure he was as innocent as she wanted to believe, felt that it wouldn’t be wise to point out that she was losing support as far as the force went. Besides, she hesitated to wreck his day, especially when he’d been nice enough to hire her in spite of Sly’s threats. The police had had plenty of bias against him before she came to work here. Hopefully, he understood to stay clear of them all.
“Is that what this call is about?” he asked. “More displeasure?”
“No doubt.” She nibbled at her bottom lip while trying to puzzle out how best to handle Sly. She didn’t want her lack of response to cause another fight, and yet...she didn’t feel as if he had the right to continue harassing her about her new job. Besides, she didn’t care to talk to him, especially in front of Dawson.
After silencing the ringer, she went about mopping the floor.
She was relieved when Sly didn’t call back like he so often did, thought she’d been granted a reprieve—until she heard a knock at the front door about fifteen minutes later.
“Oh no,” she said, a spurt of adrenaline causing her stomach to cramp.
“That’s him, isn’t it?” Dawson had finished eating, was just having a glass of the inexpensive brand of wine she’d bought at the store.
“I don’t know for sure, but...maybe. I mean, who else could it be?”
“I have no clue. I’m not expecting anyone.”
“I’ll get it,” she said, but he put up a hand.
“No, let me.” With a sigh, he pushed back his chair, seemed to summon what energy he had left and got up.
Sadie waited in the kitchen, hoping she was wrong about the identity of the visitor while listening to see.
“Officer Harris. What a surprise.”
She heard the sarcasm in Dawson’s greeting, knew Sly wouldn’t be able to miss it, either. Dawson didn’t know what he was getting himself into. If he wasn’t careful, Sly and the rest of the force would make his life a living hell, and she didn’t want to be responsible for that.
“Everything okay around here?” Sly asked.
“Have you received a distress call or something that would indicate otherwise?” Dawson responded.
The risks inherent in provoking such an egomaniac made Sadie catch and hold her breath...
“Not a call, exactly. But I have to admit, my cop’s intuition is sending out a warning.”
“Well, there’s no trouble here. You can go on your way,” Dawson said.
“Not so fast,” Sly responded.
Sadie tiptoed to the entrance of the living room and peered around the corner to see her ex-husband holding the door so that Dawson couldn’t close it. “I guess you decided not to take my advice, huh?”
“Advice?” Dawson echoed, using the same facetious tone as before.
“You know what I’m talking about. Was there some confusion?”
“No, not really. Why?”
Sly’s expression hardened. “Maybe you don’t know this yet, but it’s not smart to get on my bad side.”
“Your ex needed a job, and I had one. Seemed like the perfect fit. I’m not sure why you’d have anything to do with it, to be honest.”
“I have everything to do with it,” he said. “Everything to do with her. And I’m telling you, she doesn’t belong here.”
“Actually, she does now. Technically, you’re the one who has no business coming onto the property.”
Sadie gripped the edge of the opening so hard she thought she might leave impressions in the wood. “Don’t let him explode. Don’t let him explode,” she chanted silently to herself. She didn’t want this to come to blows, especially because she wasn’t convinced Dawson could overpower Sly, not when he was so tired. Even if he could, she was afraid Sly would make up some lie about being attacked and call for backup, which would land Dawson in jail again.
“Funny,” Sly said. “A murderer with a sense of humor. I like that.”
“Great. Glad to hear it. Now, I’m tired and eager for bed. Not interested in any domestic bullshit. So...why don’t I go on about my business—and let you go on about yours?”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Sly said. “Not until I see Sadie. I tried calling her, but she didn’t pick up. When that happens, I tend to worry.”
Dawson didn’t even glance her way. “Her hands were wet. She’s mopping the floor. I’m sure she’ll call you when she gets done.”
“I want to talk to her now. So I suggest you make it easy on both of us and get her.”
Before Dawson could refuse and thereby provoke Sly even more, Sadie walked into the room. “Sly, what are you doing here?” she asked.
His gaze shifted to her, but his expression didn’t grow any friendlier. “It’s after seven.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means it’s getting late, and I’m wondering why you’re not home with our son.”
She slid in
