Sheriff's Deputy Book 2: Gabriel Von Ashner
Auteur·e
Collette G. May
Lectures
96,7K
Chapitres
42
Chapter 1
Book 2: Gabriel Von Ashner
GABRIEL
There she was again. Her blonde pigtails swung as she rocked her head from side to side in rhythm to the old hymn the congregation was singing. She was always dressed in the prettiest dresses with vibrant colors and patterns. The first week he had seen her, her dress was pink with dancing flamingos. The next week, it was yellow with white poppies. Today, it was blue with smiling clouds floating on it. He had never seen her face, but for the last few weeks, he looked forward to the little spot of brightness sitting two pews ahead of him on a Sunday morning.
She was always accompanied by a dark-haired woman with the most intricate of braids, and he wondered how long it took her to do her hair in the mornings. Nothing attracted him physically to the duo except their promise of glitter they gave his day. And he needed that bit of glitter lately.
He always missed them at other times of the service because his grandma greeted her different social groups before they exited the church, and this often took another hour.
Gabriel often stayed seated while he waited for his grandma to finish her conversations and set her appointments for the rest of the week. He suppressed a grimace as he watched his grandma make a note in her pocket diary. His week was going to be full of driving errands…again.
“Gabriel!” His head popped up at his grandmother’s hiss. After his parents had died in a car accident when he was ten, his grandma raised him. From sneaking out at night, tagging various federal buildings, grand theft auto, skipping school, barely graduating, and eventually being arrested and sent to the Marines, none of the authority figures he had met could intimidate him as much as his grandmother’s blue glare.
Since his return to the US a month ago, his grandmother had him driving her from one appointment to another, and in his granddad’s royal blue Rolls Royce Park Ward, which meant he stood out like a sore thumb wrapped in a cast. And being six foot three and built like “Superman” wasn’t the best way to be inconspicuous.
Grandma’s appointments included the salon, shopping, bridge club on a Monday, book club on a Wednesday, and the Bingo casino on a Friday. She went to brunch with her high school friends on a Saturday, and Gabriel could do as he pleased after taking her back home. This is if she hadn’t arranged a date with one of her friends’ granddaughters, nieces, or someone in their acquaintance circle. And this was possibly no different if her tone was anything to go by.
Biting down on his teeth to make sure that the impatience didn’t show on his face, he reluctantly went to meet his grandma and her four friends. The deep frown between her gray eyebrows showed him that he was in trouble. Gabe did a quick review of the last week and why he could be under the spotlight… And then he hesitated…but running was out of the question. In his experience, running from his grandma was the worst thing he could do.
“Gabriel Raphael Adam Von Ashner, what did you do to Marigold Philips?”
“I did as you asked, Grandma.”
“Don’t you play the obedient pup with me, young man!” Her eyes blazed up at him, her finger jabbing into his stomach because that was the highest her arthritic shoulders would allow her arms to lift. “You took her paint—paint—shooting each other with paint!”
Gabe bit his lips as he remembered the very prim Marigold in her calf-length, pastel-pink dress and artfully teased messy blonde bun covered in splotches of yellow and blue paint after their date. It was a shitty move, but he’d hoped that she would spread the word that he was a dick. At least then, the women would be less eager to go on a date orchestrated by their grandmothers. “Shush, Grandma, we’re still in the church.”
She pinched her lips together, the red lipstick cracking at the edges with the effort it took her to not say something. She hitched her Sunday purse higher on her forearm and smoothed her ivory cardigan over her lavender skirt and white blouse. She narrowed her eyes and walked past him with a snap that his drill sergeant would have been proud of.
He still reached the car before her and was able to open the rear door for her. He made sure she was settled, then stood next to the driver-side door to take a breath before sliding behind the wheel. He stared out the windshield before turning in his seat and looking at his Grandma.
She was the strongest woman he knew, and he admired and feared her in equal measure. And she seemed ageless, her oval face still as smooth and clear as when he was a boy. She wasn’t a tall woman, just over five foot four, but her presence was unmistakable. She was still a good-looking woman and Gabriel wasn’t surprised that she had been on at least three dates a week since his return. But he could see why—she was still as vivacious and extroverted as she was when she was married to his granddad.
“Grandma, we spoke about setting me up. I’m not interested in dating right now.” His tone was soft, and he hoped that she would recognize his earnestness.
“You’re thirty-five, Gabriel. When will you be interested in settling down?”
“Grandma,” he sighed. “I’ve just come back. I have crap I need to sort out, one of which is finding a job so that I can at least buy my own beer.”
“I buy perfectly good beer!”
Gabe raised an eyebrow at her retort.
“And besides, you’ve been needing to sort out your shit since you were ten years old.”
“Gee, thanks, Grandma.”
She reached between the seats and cupped his cheek. “I don’t want you to end up alone when it’s my turn to take the ferry.”
He took her hand and kissed the back of it before folding it in both of his, her tiny fingers disappearing completely. “Hopefully, you’ll be missing that ferry for a long while yet.”
“Oh, Gabriel, ever my optimist.”
He smiled at her sarcasm. They both knew he was a realist, and gray areas didn’t exist.
“So? How did Marigold Philips scream when you splattered her with paint?”
Gabe let out a husky laugh at the mischief on her face as he started the car. “It wasn’t even me! We were teamed up against a fifth-grade class!”
