There hadn’t, it was true. People either held celebrations in their homes, or if they had enough money, rented out the diner for the evening. Or just stayed outdoors, but that wasn’t an option for a lot of the year, here in the north. Even for shifters.
They came back into the main room, which was plenty big enough for a wedding reception—Misty could tell that this place had been built to be a pack house, not a private home. Private homes didn’t have rooms this big unless they were the sort of place that had a name and a noble family attached.
The small crowd of people were talking to Ty and Carlos, and as they approached, Misty could hear a conversation about organizing a drive for donating furniture, books, and toys, and about today’s project for cleaning the place, which was to wash all of the many windows.
“I wanna wash windows!” piped a tiny voice, and Misty looked down to see a little girl, maybe six or seven, hopping around the room, looking at each of the windows. She stopped when she saw Misty looking at her and came over. “I want to wash the windows,” she said sincerely.
“Looks like you’re going to get the chance,” Misty said, trying to place her. She looked familiar, but Misty wasn’t personally acquainted with all of the kids in town. “Is your mom here?”
The girl nodded and pointed to the crowd, which didn’t help. “She said we better come and make ourselves useful.”
“That’s a good philosophy,” Misty approved.
The tiny forehead wrinkled. “What’s a—phisoly?”
“Philosophy. A way of thinking about things. What you think about how stuff should go.”
“Phisolophy.”
“Philosophy.”
“Philosophy,” she repeated successfully, and grinned. “Philosophy. My philosophy is cookies for breakfast.”
“That one you’re definitely going to have to take up with your mom,” Misty said. “What’s your name?”
“Tina.”
A kid named Tina. Misty half-remembered noting someone with a child named Tina somewhere, but she still couldn’t place the family.
“What’s your name?” Tina asked.
“I’m Misty. I’m the sheriff.”
Tina’s eyes went wide, and she took a step back. Oh, no.
“You arrested my daddy,” she said in a tiny voice.
Oh, no.
“Well,” Misty said, and didn’t know what to say. She remembered where she knew the name Tina, now. Tina was Diane and Ryan Bigelow’s daughter, Zeke’s little sister.
“Why did you arrest my daddy?” Tina asked. She came back forward, her surprise over, looking like she was ready to do battle.
Misty took a deep breath. She wanted to help the local kids grow up to be law-abiding citizens, better than their parents? Well, here was her first shot. She squatted down, bringing her eyes to Tina’s level.
“You know how sometimes, when kids misbehave, they need a time-out?” she asked softly.
Tina nodded.
“Sometimes grownups do, too. Your daddy could be kind of scary, sometimes.”
Tina looked away. Then she nodded.
“Well,” Misty said, “I wanted him to learn how to behave better. It’s not good for people to run around being scary like that. I’m sorry he had to go away, though.”
And she was—not so much that she’d arrested Ryan, who’d deserved it ten times over, but that this little girl would be growing up without the father she deserved.
Tina scrunched up her face. “I want him back.”