I open the door for Deputy Garvey. But it’s not him. He’s pudgy around the waist and not much taller than me. His eyes squint into a fine line that matches his lips. I motion him inside but don’t ask him to sit.
“Problem?” he says.
“Who the hell are you?” Olvie’s opens another beer.
“Officer Lancaster. And you are?”
“The owner of this house. Where’s Garvey.”
“Off. So, what’s the problem?” I don’t like the way he’s staring at Isaac.
“I’m Nora Roberts and the problem’s mine. I live across the street and the problem is my husband. Deputy Garvey came to my house yesterday. I’m sure he wrote some kind of report. He hit me.”
“Not against the law,” Lancaster says.
“And that makes it right?” Olvie lets out a soft burp.
Lancaster rolls his eyes. “So, Mrs. Roberts. Something else happened?”
The three-year-old has given up trying to wake up Gladys. She leaves the couch and starts running in tiny circles.
“Mrs. Roberts?” Isaac says. “Mind if I take her in the kitchen to find a snack?”
She nods, looking Relieved. “Go with Isaac, Millie.” Mrs. Roberts turns back to the deputy. “Yes, something else happened. Tonight, Lester made another threat. He said, well, he said that if I ever crossed him again, he’d take the children and burn down the house with me in it. Then he peeled off down the street to God knows where.”
“Threats aren’t against the law,” Lancaster says looking bored.
“Doesn’t make it righ,” Olvie slurs.
“I’ll make a note. Anything else?”
Mrs. Roberts shakes her head, her eyes cast downward.
“Okay then. And who’s the colored boy in the kitchen?”
“Thank you for coming, Mr. Lancaster,” I say, opening the door.
“Officer Lancaster, young lady.”
Olvie stands and sways on her feet. “Get your pompous ass off my property and don’t come back.”
Lancaster’s eyes spark fire. “You best be respectful to me. I’ve arrested folks on less charges than speaking to me like that.”
“No doubt,” Olvie says, flipping a hand. “Now get your ass off my property. And while you’re at it, try saving someone. It will be a good change for you. Now, don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out.”
He points a stern finger toward Olvie. “I’ll be watching you. And,” he nods toward the kitchen, “the people inside.”
“So you’ll watch over me then, Officer Lancaster?” Mrs. Roberts says.
But he doesn’t respond. He leaves without doing a damn thing to help a woman whose husband threatened to kill her.
Olvie sighs and leans back in her chair. “Well, that was productive.”
I want to tell her that she didn’t make things any better. In fact, she probably made things worse for Isaac.
Excerpt from my WIP, Bare Bones of Justice (working title)