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chapter ten: sheriff peterkin
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Monica Hart woke up with a gasp, physically shaking herself awake as her rooster's crows flooded her ears, along with footsteps.
She was too tired and beat even to try and defend herself, but when Sheriff Peterkin came into view, she relaxed, flopping her head back down onto the pillow — only to hiss painful as it scuffed lightly against her bruised eye.
Sheriff Peterkin was one of the kinder cops in the Outer Banks. The woman was, unbeknownst to Monica, deeply involved in her DCS case. Peterkin knew her father, and when he had gone missing, she made it her mission to subtly watch over the girl ( and her friends. )
"Get decent, sweetheart. We need to talk," the officer instructed, removing herself from Monica's messy bedroom so the girl could change.
Monica only shrugged on an oversized T-shirt that was no doubt either JJ's or Pope's and emerged from her room, not bothering with an attempt to cover the bruise since the Sheriff had already seen it.
Monica comically blinked as she glanced at the variety of beer bottles discarded on her kitchen table, though Peterkin was looking at her.
"Sorry to break in like this, but DCS called," informed the officer, now inspecting her home. "They wanted me to check on you. See how you're doin'."
It was then Peterkin noticed her black eye. "So, how are you, besides the — she motioned toward her eye with circular movements.
"Oh, no, I'm — I'm great," Monica lied. "Yeah, fantastic. Uh . . . Thanks for coming by."
"I'm so glad to hear you sat that, Miss Hart," Peterkin said monotonously. "But I heard a few things that worried me. Let me see if I can remember . . ."
At her words, Monica busied herself by cleaning the empty bottles on her table and facing away from the officer, mouthing a silent curse.
"Oh, yeah. One of the things I heard was that your Uncle Teddy, your guardian, hasn't been in the state for three months.
Monica dumbly pursed her lips. "That's false."
( If there was one thing about Monica that stood out from the rest, it was that she was a terrible liar. )
"You don't have to say anything. I know it's true; I called the school."
Why did you call the school? Monica thought to herself, scrunching her eyebrows.
