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The wind brushed back Dray's hair as she stared at the empty patio of Posies. She didn't feel like solving puzzles, it was a party after all. Sighing, she turned around and almost knocked into someone, sloshing her drink onto her hand.

That someone revealed to be the culprit of her irritation. "Hey," she said in a deadpan manner, shaking off her beer droplets on her fingers and then wiping them on her jeans.

Wells just smiled and started walking away. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and casually maneuvered through the crowd.

Dray shook her head and followed him. "Didn't want to hang in the usual spot, then?" She struggled to keep his pace. His ability to dodge people greatly exceeded her own. Once Wells stepped into some open space, he waited for her to catch up.

"Figured it'd be better for you if the whole town didn't see us alone together," he said.

Dray figured it'd be better if he stopped using that flimsy excuse, but she pushed down some negative words and spoke softly. "Why is that, Wells?"

He caught her eye, but quickly looked straight ahead. "I think you know." His face dropped with his words.

They walked to the edge of downtown, out towards the lake. The music muffled and made the silence a bit more stifling for Dray. Trying to navigate Wells feeling like the villain and trying to figure out the ways of the actual villain proved to be something she unsurprisingly had no idea how to handle. So, she took the easy way out and changed the subject.

"I kind of roped myself into checking out lost and found tonight."

Wells slowed his pace. "Okay." His eyebrows lifted and a corner of his mouth flicked upward.

She cringed with her next words. "With Porter."

He grabbed her arm and pulled her into a nearby alleyway. "Porter?" His demeanor fell back into a usual scowl. He stood close to Dray, so close she could feel the tension wrap around him.

"It was kind of an accident?" She scrunched up her nose. "I was with his friends and they started asking me the standard new girl questions. I rambled, mentioned checking out the police station, got weird looks, and panicked." Her words ran together. "I said it was a good thing I did, though, because I found a watch. Porter offered—well, more like told me he'd walk me later. He also told me he'd walk me home."

Wells released her arm and leaned on the wall over her. He glanced at the ground and sighed. "That complicates things a little bit. You're going to have to get away from him and look at the log alone. He's buddy-buddy with the sheriff, too. Probably want to convince him to stay outside."

Dray took a deep breath, both to regain it after spitting out the explanation and because she'd never been this close to him. "Yeah, I don't know how easy that's going to be. Porter seems to be quite," she struggled for the right word, "hands on."

"I won't disagree with that." He pushed off the wall and stood next to her, crossing his arms.

She let out another breath as silently as she could.

"Just be careful, all right?" His voice lowered. Gone was the anger and in its place, something with much less force.

Dray found it unusual. All she had to do was check the log and tell Porter she didn't find anything, but the look on his face did nothing for her confidence. "I'll be careful."

Wells turned so his shoulder leaned against the wall. He reached out and tucked a stray piece of her hair behind her ear.

Dray felt her face heat up and she tried to think back if she'd put on enough powder to cover her now undoubtedly red skin.

"Hey, you kids doing all right over there?"

Dray jumped and stepped away from the wall and Wells. "Kids?" She mumbled.

Wells cracked a grin.

"Of course," Dray said, turning around to face the sheriff, whose voice rang too recognizable, "just getting away from the bustle for a bit." She smiled.

Sheriff Heron looked the two up and down. The length of his observation created an awfully uncomfortable atmosphere. "Sounds good," he said. "Don't stay cooped up to long in this alley, Miss Dinley." He turned around and looked both ways down Main before jogging to the other side.

She shook her head. "I'm not sure what to make of that man."

Wells rested his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. Despite the situation, he smiled.

They left the alley to go back downtown, making sure to stay on the opposite side of the road as Sheriff Heron—who took an oddly leisurely walk with his hands clasped behind his back and sneaking glances across the street. Dray made eye contact the one time she checked for him. She tried to recall another time she'd felt uncomfortable with an officer looking out for her. She couldn't, though he did look away just as fast as she did.

Back in the throng of people, the two grabbed something to eat from a food truck close to the stage. The DJ announced the headliner would be up soon, so they picked a bench off to the side to enjoy their greasy meal and wait for the music to start.

"So, are these guys local?" Dray asked. She sat sideways on the bench, one leg folded in front of her, and facing Wells and the stage. The band, called Hero to Throne, played next as the headliner. She scrunched her nose as the answer became instantly obvious, but at least it provided an easy conversation starter.

Wells threw away a plastic container that had held a couple of hot dogs in the trash a few feet away. "Sometimes your insight blows me away, Dray."

Dray couldn't hold an annoyed expression very long and matched the smile on his face. She picked up a french fry out of her fry cup and popped it in her mouth. Wells watched the band set up, so she took the time to watch him—watch how his dark hair curled at the ends and shined lighter in the sun and how the line of his jaw flowed into the smooth curve of his chin.

He turned back, catching her staring, and her face grew hot. She grinned to hold her own. Even the embarrassing moments in front of him have gotten easier.

Unfortunately, the moment couldn't last as Wells' face dropped like a rock smashing to the ground. "Your friend is coming."

Dray peered over her shoulder to see Porter waving her down. "I wouldn't say friend." She turned back around. "I'd much rather sit here and watch this band with you."

Wells looked into her eyes and smiled. He may never say anything, but Dray would bet he enjoyed her clear distaste of Porter.

"You ready to go?" Porter slapped his hand over her shoulder.

She flinched at the contact and checked the time on her phone. Looking at Wells, she sighed. "I suppose, yeah." She stood up. "I'll see you later?"

Wells nodded, though his stare lingered on Porter, who stood there doing nothing to acknowledge him.

Dray fought back any and every visual cue of annoyance. Whatever developed between these two grown men over the years seemed awfully silly to her. "Let's go, Porter." She moved towards the station without looking back.

The crowd thinned, most either centered in front of the stage or rested at an outdoor patio. Dray walked all the way out of the block party alone. She didn't even hear Porter's footsteps until the police station came into view.

"So," she drawled out once Porter stepped by her side, "what is up with you and Wells?"

"Weldon?" He sounded surprised, but shrugged. "Nothing really. He is just so negative, into bad things, you know?"

Dray took on a scowl of her own. "Bad things?"

"Yeah." He placed his hand on her shoulder again. "Lying and trying to convince people his parents were murdered, you know? He's into conspiracies and nonsense, stuff you shouldn't get wrapped up in, to be honest."

The more Dray chatted with Porter, the uglier he became. She stepped to the side, making his hand fall, and pulled her jacket closer to her body. "He seems like a good guy to me."

"Dray," Porter stopped and gripped her arm, leaning in, "I want you to be safe here. Don't spend all your time with him and never alone."

They stood outside the station steps. Dray looked him in the eyes for the first time and glared, but she didn't want to spend anymore time with him, so she nodded.

He grinned and released his grip, slightly nodding towards the building. "Do you need me to go with you?"

"No thank you, Porter," she said curtly, gently massaging her upper arm. "I know right where to go." A feeble attempt to smile turned into a thin line across her face.

Porter reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a worn box of cigarettes. "Great. I'll wait outside. I actually need a smoke." He shook the box in front of his face and turned away to light up.

It came as no surprise he smoked, lots of people her age did, but his boasting of it made Dray crinkle her nose.

The door dinged as Dray entered the station and she wasted no time advancing for the side room of lost and found. She threw a casual smile towards the receptionist in passing, hoping to keep up a somewhat friendly reputation.

A long table lined the far wall inside the small room. An open book fit like a puzzle piece in the middle, sticking out amongst the odd things that covered its entirety. Across the room, a few bikes leaned against the wall and baskets and a wagon overflowed with more knick knacks and gardening tools.

Dray thought it strange that the room held so much, since the whole town knew about it, but maybe they didn't care much for old missing things.

The book showed wear and tear at the edges, but the pages smoothed under her skin as she flipped through them, slowly running her finger down each column for a ring. She barely remember to keep a look out for an old watch for her cover story.

With about half of the book scanned and no luck, Dray heard the door creak open.

"Lose something already?"

She jumped at the sheriff's voice. It boomed against the walls. Before, the small room held a silence with only the brush of paper reaching her ears. She looked over her shoulder to see he poked his head in.

"Oh no," Dray said, turning around fully to face him, "I just found something in my yard the other day." She waved her hand, trying to dismiss the subject and Sheriff Heron.

He smiled and stepped fully into the room, holding the door open. "What was it? Maybe I can help."

"It's an old watch." She clasped her hands in front of her, taking a step away from the book.

Sheriff Heron thought for a few seconds and then walked over to the book. He tapped on the date at the top of the page. "You should be close if it's in there. The old owners of your house moved out around this time."

Dray nodded. "Thanks, Sheriff." She folded her arms across her chest and smiled.

"It's no problem, Dray." He chuckled. "I've gotten to know this room pretty well. My brother," he paused and a sad smile spread on his face, "well, I guess you could say he had some sticky fingers."

The tension in Dray's shoulders dropped to the ground. How could she have forgotten about his brother? Fortunately for her lack of know how on comforting those in grief, the sheriff shook it off.

"Well then," he smiled, "I'll let you get back to looking."

She only nodded before he left and quietly shut the door behind him.

After a few deep breaths to try and ignore the shame she felt of judging a person in mourning, Dray found herself back at the book.

But this time, a new tension filled her body.

Finally, the page that held her solace. At the very bottom, the last line listed a wedding ring belonging to Ivory Sparrow. She had no idea who that was, but the mystery of Ms. Sparrow wasn't what worried her.

She had found the name on the same page Sheriff Heron looked just looked at.

..

[EDITED OCTOBER 9, 2021]




The clues are a-coming. What do you think is happening in Hero?

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