Tense breathing; quiet tires on the road; the occasional nasal sigh. Boo counts every sound she hears during the drive to the police department downtown. Martha keeps both hands tied tight to the wheel and a steely expression set on her face; Boo stares moodily out the window, chewing on her lower lip until she can taste metal in her mouth. The ride is barely ten minutes long but thanks to the frigid atmosphere in the car, it may as well take an hour.

Martha parks at the front of the small parking lot; there are only three other cars around and one is a cruiser. The department itself is a one-story red brick, with white-trimmed square windows dotting the walls and a set of glass double doors. A small concrete staircase with no more than five steps leads up to the front entrance. A rather unassuming structure, yet inside lingers the bane of Boo's existence.

Martha cuts the engine, bathing the cabin in silence, but neither she nor Boo exit the truck.

"What's the point, Nana?" Boo asks quietly, turning her head to observe her grandmother. "We go through this once a month."

Martha stares at the steering wheel for a moment, not meeting Boo's gaze. "She's family," she answers after a pause. "We have an obligation."

Boo knows she's speaking of one of Jack Creek's dearest unspoken rules - duty lies with blood. Take care of your own, even if they can't take care of themselves. It's just another truth that keeps the gears of the city turning. Martha, as unorthodox as she may be, obeys this the same as any other citizen. There's no mention of having love for her daughter, though Boo doesn't doubt that Martha loves Lori.

But try as she might, Boo could never wrap her head around that idea. Shouldn't your actions lie with those you love, not those whose blood you share?

"She's never done anything for you," Boo points out. "Or for me, for that matter."

Martha throws Boo a reprimanding glare. "Don't speak ill of your mother." Without waiting for an answer, she steps out of the truck and shuts the door in one swift motion, leaving Boo alone in the car.

"She isn't my mother," Boo mutters before following Martha into the building.

Inside the department is as uneventful as the exterior. A lone cop sits at a reception desk, her face slouched in boredom. While Martha signs the visitor log, Boo hovers by the front doors with her arms crossed over her chest. Before her is a short hallway with windows on both walls; behind the windows to the right is an open area with several desk officers scattered about. Some are on the phone while others are hunched over in front of computer screens. Nobody seems to be in any kind of hurry.

She can't see anything behind the windows to the left. The Venetian blinds are all drawn tightly, either to shut out prying eyes or cage in something private. Boo suspects a little bit of both.

"Mel," Martha says hurriedly, nodding her head at a door next to reception. "This way."

Boo knows the drill, she's run through it a dozen times. She and Martha venture down the small hallway that leads to the holding cells. The right one is empty; the left one holds a tall, thin woman sitting alone on the gray metal bench, her legs crossed and her face turned to the window.

Her stomach clenches at the sight of Lori. It's been a few weeks since she's heard from her but nothing seems to have changed - she looks as unkempt as always. Her hair is uncombed and her clothes disheveled. Boo can't help but smirk at Lori's odd choice of outfit; who wears a floor-length skirt in the dead of summer?

The desk cop looks up as Martha and Boo enter the room, his expression melting into relief, and then raps on the metal bars with his keys.

"Taylor, you've made bail," he barks. Lori turns her head, her face unchanging as she notices Boo and Martha waiting behind the cop.

"'Bout time," Lori sighs, standing and breezing out of the cell.

"A little gratitude goes a long way," Martha remarks crossly, her voice firm as she stares at her daughter.

Lori ignores this and turns to face the guard again, her voice sugary-sweet and fake as can be. "Thank you so much, Darryl," she purrs.

It takes everything in Boo's power not to roll her eyes; Lori's been here so many times she and the holding guard are on a first name basis. Boo also has no doubt in her mind Lori tried to bribe her way out of paying bail before ultimately calling Martha.

Bored doesn't even begin to describe Darryl's expression he returns to his seat and an open book of crossword puzzles. "Can't say it's been a pleasure."

Lori flashes him a disingenuous smile before acknowledging Boo. Her eyes are cold and unforgiving. "Why are you here?"

"You opened your legs for a little too long, remember?" Boo simpers. Martha thwacks her in the back of the head faster than she can duck out of the way, leaving Boo to massage her skull with a disgruntled expression.

"Play nice," Martha instructs her firmly.

Lori's satisfied smirk has Boo wanting to make another snide comment, but she refrains to avoid another admonishing smack from Martha, who's already out the door and heading back toward the parking lot. "To be fair, I was married at the time."

Boo dramatically claps her hands together and lifts her head to the ceiling as she walks after Martha. "God, please bless that poor bastard that thought the sanctity of marriage could be preserved with Lori Taylor as his wife."

Lori's derisive smile is replaced by an irritated scowl. Satisfied, Boo flashes her a wide grin and skips out to the parking lot. Martha is leant against the truck, her fingers loosely holding a hand-rolled cigarette. Boo wrinkles her nose in disapproval as she approaches. Lori remains inside to collect her personal items from reception, giving Boo and Martha a peaceful moment alone.

"Nana, I thought you quit," she remarks, climbing into the truck bed and plopping down behind Martha.

"I did, baby," Martha responds, blowing out thin wisps of smoke. "Until your mother-"

"Lori," Boo quickly interjects.

Martha peers over her shoulder and eyes Boo closely. "-until your mother decided to incur another possession charge. She's draining me dry, forgive me for needing a little R&R."

"Next time she should pay her own bail," Boo says, although she knows Hell has a higher chance of freezing over. "Or at least get a job to pay you back."

Martha sucks in another deep breath through her cigarette. "If she paid her own bail she'd be in there forever."

"If she has money for drugs, she has money for bail."

Wisps of smoke begin to curl from Martha's thin lips as she sighs in defeat. "Honey, I don't want to have this conversation with you."

For the briefest of moments, her face ages and Boo is left reminded that Martha may be young for a grandmother, but she isn't a young woman - she's well into her sixties and dealing with a daughter that still acts like an unbridled preteen. "Don't worry about me, okay? You have enough on your plate."

Boo realizes it's best not to argue and simply nods. "Okay, Nana."

Martha's eyes light up with mischief and a smile curves onto her lips. "Maybe later I'll come over and help you unpack your new apartment, yeah?"

Boo wriggles uncomfortably, doing her best to keep a smile on her face. The last thing she wants is to unpack a place she didn't even want to rent to begin with, but once Martha has her mind set on something it's hard to disagree. "Okay."

Lori emerges from the police department, clutching a stringy brown purse in one hand and a flip phone in the other. Boo rolls her eyes; what a flashback to 2001.

"Mom, get me the hell out of here," she snaps, her hands trembling as she fumbles with the clasp on her bag. "I've had enough of that place."

"God forbid you learn your lesson, honey," Martha says dryly, taking one last drag from her cigarette before crushing it under her heel. "We could stop doing this dance."

Lori rolls her eyes, pausing next to the passenger door so she can yank it open. "If the cops had something better to do in this town, I could live in peace."

Boo furrows her eyebrows, not sure how doing heroin without being arrested equates to living in peace. She decides it's just best to keep her mouth shut but not before she and Martha exchange a momentary, knowing glance.

"I'm gonna walk home, Nana," Boo states, hopping out of the pickup. Martha nods and gets into the truck with Lori. "I'll be there in a bit."

"Good riddance," Lori mutters quietly. Boo knows she wasn't meant to hear it, but she does regardless.

Martha mutters a quiet admonishing to her daughter before acknowledging Boo again. "Be safe. Call me if you need something."

Boo gives a short, two-fingered wave as the truck drives away. She sets off on the walk home but before she even reaches the sidewalk, another cruiser comes peeling down the street and skids into the parking lot. Boo's legs are mercilessly sprayed with a shower of small pebbles. An ungodly noise of irritation escapes her mouth as she leans down to brush off her legs.

Amidst her grumbling, she hears the slamming of a car door and the rhythmic crunching of approaching footsteps on gravel. Her head stays down as she continues dusting herself off.

"Well, well, if it ain't Lori Jr."

A cold voice strikes Boo's ears. Her eyes squeeze shut as an automatic response. She knows that voice; anytime she hears it, her body tenses up like she's listening to nails on a chalkboard. Abruptly she wishes she were squeezed into the truck with Martha and The Deadbeat instead of unattended on an empty street.

She stands to her full height and looks him in the face, not willing to give him the satisfaction of knowing how truly terrifying he is. Narrowed brown eyes glare down at her, shaded by the brim of his police hat - silently accusing her of everything she knows she's never done. His colorless lips are set in a hard line and a thin sheen of sweat is just beginning to appear on his pale skin. Boo can smell the stale coffee on his breath.

"Good morning, Captain Waters," she says politely. "How are you?"

Nathaniel sneers down at her wordlessly, seeming to calculate his response as he chews on a toothpick. "What are you doing out here?"

Boo holds her arms out, pretending to catch the sunlight on her skin. "Just out for a little walk. Lovely day, isn't it?"

The sarcasm in her voice isn't missed upon him. His chin twitches as he clenches his jaw, making no attempts to mask his clear disdain. Another inescapable truth of Jack Creek is Nathaniel's unnatural hatred for Boo, something she fails to find a reason for. She's always made out to feel like a criminal, a hard label to escape thanks to the antics of her not-mother.

"You live on the other side of town," he remarks slowly. "So if you're looking for trouble, I suggest you look elsewhere. Ain't nothing for you over here."

Boo nods obediently, deciding it wouldn't be a smart idea to provoke him when he's already in such a pleasant mood. "Yes, I'll just get going. Don't mind me."

She flashes him an eager grin and slowly begins ambling away, her rabbit heart thundering away in her chest. Her pace picks up once her feet reach the sidewalk and she has to refrain from bursting into a sprint. He watches her walk for a solid two minutes, his stare clinging heavily to her back, before finally vanishing inside the department.

Even after she's long out of Nathaniel's line of sight, his heavy gaze is hard to shake. Every interaction with that man makes Boo's skin crawl but, again for reasons she'll never understand, Martha was always extra friendly to him, despite knowing his acrid treatment of Boo and the fact that his own grandson, Calum, used to bully the living hell out of Melita when they were kids.

It's been years since she saw Calum Waters. Last Boo heard, he'd moved to Arizona to live with his dad before eventually joining some branch of the military.

But Nathaniel was ever-present, akin to an unwanted shadow. And Martha still insisted on inviting him and his daughter Janet over for Sunday dinners, though he rarely accepted anymore. The only time Boo saw him was around town, skulking the streets in his cruiser and just waiting to ruin someone's day. How a man like him became police captain, she never understood. Maybe they drew names out of a hat, because it certainly couldn't be because of his merit or his sunshine-y attitude.

hmm nathaniel gives me the heebie jeebies. what reasons could he possibly have for not liking boo?