Paradise Falls ||JJ Maybank||

[11] Fantastic

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The sunlight filtering through the window pulled me from the depths of sleep, casting a warm glow across the room. JJ still lay beside me, his steady breaths a comforting rhythm in the quiet morning air. With a gentle shift, I eased myself out of bed, careful not to disturb him.

As I made my way to the kitchen, the events of yesterday weighed heavily on my mind. The sight of John B, focused and determined, drew my attention. He stood by the counter, engrossed in a stack of papers, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Morning, Newton," John B greeted, his voice breaking through the silence.

"Morning, Routledge," I returned, a small smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. "What's all this?" I inquired, nodding towards the papers scattered before him.

"I'm trying to—" John B began, but his explanation was cut short by a loud banging on the front door, accompanied by Sheriff Peterkin's stern voice echoing through the house.

"Routledge, I know you're in there. Your van and boat are parked outside," she called out, her tone leaving no room for argument.

With a shared glance, John B and I knew it was time to face whatever awaited us on the other side of that door.

"Just stay back, Ronnie," John B quietly cautioned as he moved to open the door.

The morning light spilled into the room as John B swung the door open, revealing Sheriff Peterkin standing on the doorstep, her presence commanding attention.

"Peterkin, it's like nine in the morning," John B remarked, his voice laced with defiance.

The sheriff sighed, her expression weary. "Believe me, I'd rather be anywhere else," she admitted, flipping through her notepad. "I was wondering if you've seen Veronica Newton recently."

"What's going on?" JJ's voice cut through the tension as he joined us in the doorway, his confusion evident.

Peterkin fixed him with a pointed look. "I'm not here for you," she replied tersely, her gaze shifting back to John B. "I need to speak with Veronica. Is she here?"

I stepped forward, positioning myself behind John B and JJ, a sense of apprehension tightening in my chest. "I'm here," I spoke up, my voice wavering slightly. "But I haven't done anything wrong."

"I know," Peterkin reassured me, her tone softening. "I just need to have a chat with you down at the station."

JJ's protective instincts flared, his concern evident in his furrowed brow. "Is she in trouble?" he demanded, his voice edged with worry.

Peterkin shook her head. "No trouble, just a few questions," she replied, her gaze shifting towards the kitchen. "But first, could you please just put on a shirt or something."

I glanced down, realizing I was still in my bikini top from yesterday. Heat flooded my cheeks as I hurriedly went back to my big John's room to change, a sense of unease settling over me.

"Take one of my shirts, Ron," JJ said as he peeked into the room, pointing over to the duffel bag on the ground.

JJ always kept clothes at John B's house. We all knew it was for the times he'd come here when things got bad with his dad, he just didn't want us to know that.

"Thanks, J."

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Peterkin's office felt suffocating, the weight of the situation pressing down on me as I sat across from the sheriff. Her expression was unreadable, her eyes scanning my face with a mixture of concern and curiosity.