Instead of answering the daily prompt with personal stuff; I’m gonna work the prompt into my story. Hope you enjoy.

Questions 

     Dillon hated this. He hated that Evie’s life was being torn apart again. She was the victim here. Yet again. Why would anyone want to run her off the road? Evie had bought him a coffee mug. He sat behind his desk, rubbin’ his thumb over the picture. Bradley and Clint would be doing the interview. She had asked them to wait a few days. He about died when after asking why, she replied, “I want to contact my lawyer. She might need to be involved in this process.” She said it as if the word lawyer was as familiar or comfortable as saying the word friend, dad, or flower. The word lawyer made his skin crawl. Working relationship was about as good as it got in his world. 

     Sheriff Milo and Bradley entered his office. The 3 men sat and compared notes about Evie. Other than Doug, Milo couldn’t think of anyone. 

     “What about an old business associate that felt slighted?” Bradley asked.

     Milo sighed, “everyone that we interviewed, loved her. Had nothing but good things to say about her. She was outgoing, personable to her ex husband’s quiet, reserved personality.” 

     “Did you get a good mix of business associates? She has some interesting concepts.” Dillon remarked. 

     Milo raised an eyebrow. Dillon filled him in on the Hillbilly Yoga idea. How lightening fast she was able to run with it. Turning it into a possible legitimate business. 

     Dillon got up and walked over to the window. He knew this would be uncomfortable. It wasn’t until the questions started flying that he found out just how uncomfortable. ‘Dammit’, he scolded himself. ‘You’re a professional.’ Nothing so far had been this personal. Once the medical examiners reports came back from Frankfort, the deaths of this parents were over. Evie’s mom had died from natural causes. Nothing criminal there. No need to go prying. ‘Prying.’ Yes, this felt like prying. 

     A loud noise pulled their attention toward the door. Margaret screamed above it, “quit your caterwaulin’!”

     Milo smiled, “mmmm, the way she talks.” He shook his head, “caterwaulin’.”

    Bradley eyed Dillon. Both men smiled. 

     Milo cleared his throat, “I could look this up. But I’m afraid I might not get the desired results. What does sparkin’ mean?”

     Despite his throbbing head, Dillon smiled, concealing a laugh. He could have a little fun with their new colleague. He eyed Bradley. But Bradley was looking at his own hands. “Would you care to give us a little context?” Dillon asked.

     Milo squirmed in his seat, “last night when I picked her up for dinner; she giggled and said, ‘I’ve not been sparkin’ in years’.”

     “Datin’,” Bradley answered still looking at his hands. 

     “And why do you drop the g’s off words?”

     “If you hang ‘round long enough, you’ll notice other things we drop.” Dillon smile. 

Instead of answering the daily prompt with personal stuff; I’m gonna work the prompt into my story. Hope you enjoy.

Unmarked

    An EMT had come over to attend to Dillon.  An unmarked suv pulled in front of Dillon’s smashed one, lights flashing. The moment he spoke, Dillon knew who he was. “Sheriff, he’s out.”

     Milo stood by Dillon. “No! It’s not possible. No one told us.” He got on his phone, screaming into it. 

     “Sheriff, who is that?” Bradley asked. 

     “Sheriff Milo.” Dillon’s head was raging. 

     “Sheriff,” the EMT spoke with caution. “We really need to get you to the hospital.”

     “Ms. Rice?” He asked. 

     “We are loading her up now.”

     With great reluctance, Dillon when to the hospital. He knew Bradley was competent enough to run any investigation. This was personal. Someone had hurt Evie. 

     Much to his dismay and delight, Doug was still in jail. This opened up a whole new world of possibilities. Possibilities he wasn’t prepared for. Now, he would have to remove himself from the picture as much as he could, as much as the law made him, to let Bradley take charge. A thousand questions flooded his mind that needed to be asked. It pained his heart to know these questions would be discussed.

     While he sat, waiting for the doctor, he pulled out his phone. Amazingly, it hadn’t been hurt. He started entering questions that needed to be answered?

Did Evie have any enemies? Personal or professional?

Was this attack related to Doug? ‘Too soon to know’. He wrote as if trying to answer this thought. Doug’s still in jail.

Why would anyone want to hurt her? This question was the most important one. Why would anyone want to hurt her? 

Was the security measures she had at her house overkill? Was this important? 

Was she a millionaire? Was this important? He kept coming back to this thought. Money. The thought of her being richer than 10 foot up a bulls ass made him uncomfortable. This was his problem and he knew it. But the question had to be explored to discover any possible threats to her life. 

Her life. As he sat there thinking about questions to filter through Bradley, what would he have done if something bad would have happened to her? She was his only connection to his childhood. ‘Was she really?’ He played with the thought. Evie was his childhood. Everything good from his childhood was wrapped up in her. This town. Jack. Even this job was a direct result of her.   That wasn’t her doing. It was his. Did everything about him really revolve around her? He asked himself that question twice. His answer was like a jolt of electricity to his brain. Yes, everything about him revolved around her. And he discovered, he liked that thought.

For the answer of todays prompt, the next section of my story. Enjoy.

Emotional vampires

     Dillon knocked on Evie’s door. The smell of food filled his nose, causing his stomach to growl. 

     She opened the door with a smile but her mood quickly changed. There was a light dusting of snow on Dillon’s shoulders. His nose was turning red from the cold. With a gentle touch, she brushed the snow off his coat. “Snow.” It was a whispered breath like she had never seen snow in her life. “Snow!” She shouted, running, twirling, through the snow. There was a skift on the ground; she kicked at it. It puffed a little before falling back to the ground. 

     Being ever on duty, he shut her front door before following her with curiosity around the house. First, she made at a snow angel. Then she rolled back and forth in the snow, giggling. He got as much snow in his hands as he could, letting it fall on top of her. She kicked and waved her arms at it, laughing the whole time. He said down with her in the snow, “do you know how beautiful you are?”

     She pursed her lips, looking quizzically at him. “Me?!” She questioned.

     He know longer cared that it was cold. That is clothes were getting wet. With an unsteady touch, he caressed her cheek. He wasn’t paying attention to her hands. A scream of surprise escaped him as snow flowed down his back. She laughed. They rolled around in the snow, playing for hours. 

     “Do you always have a change of clothes in your truck?” She asked as they walked into the hall at the same time.

     “One in my truck. One in the suv.” In the kitchen, he leaned over the pot, inhaling the steam. “Granny soup,” he gasped. 

     She blushed, “granny soup. There should be plenty for you to take some to work and for dad to have a bowl.” 

     “Cornbread?” He asked about the time a ding filled the kitchen.

     “Cornbread.” 

     “This is amazing.” He moaned. 

     She giggled, “it’s not quite right but it’s close.”

     “Delicious.” 

     “Dillon, thank you.”

     He stopped, looking at her. “You’re welcome?” His tone questioned.

     She played with her soup for a moment, “thank you for not being an emotional vampire.”

     ‘Emotional vampire,’ he sat there thinking about that phrase. ‘Emotional vampire.’ Finally asking, “would you care to explain that in some detail? You have always loved playing in the rain and snow.”

     Her glance was toward her soup. She mindlessly stirred at it before speaking. “Remember me telling you, you and dad never made fun of me?” He nodded, yes. “If mom was able to tell the difference between playing or getting caught outside, she would lecture me for hours. Doug did the same thing but on a different scale. His was being unproductive. Every waking minute of the day had to be full. Laying around on the couch, sleeping in, play for the sake of playing was a no-no. They had the ability to suck the joy out of a situation.”

     “I didn’t know.”

     She shrugged, “thank you for not doing that.”

     “You’re welcome.”