by Pamela Tracy
“Hmm.”
Good, she’d given him pause. Moving the flashlight up and down the floor, walls and over all the junk piled there, she wondered at what might be buried. “Where exactly did you find the Yellowboy?”
Gary showed her the area under the table. She got on her knees, used the flashlight and pulled out screwdrivers, lanterns and even a length of rusty chain but no weapons. She did the same for a few other corners, trying not to notice the smell or the evidence left behind by animals that’d made the shed home.
“I don’t see anything, but that doesn’t mean you’re weapon free. If you find anything else, hand it...” She looked around the shed, at all the piles of junk. “...or bring it over to Bianca’s.”
“I’ll do anything you ask, Officer Bailey.”
His sweet, slow drawl had her heading for the doorway, scooting past him and careful not to touch.
He followed her, Goober at his side, and waited patiently while she dusted off her hands and climbed behind the wheel of her vehicle. Relieved, she put the key in the ignition.
“Hey, Bailey,” came a gravelly voice.
Russell Blackgoat, breathing heavily, seemed to come out of nowhere and pounded on her hood. “You’ve been over here forever and I don’t see you loading him into the back. I came to make sure everything is all right. What’s going on?”
Leann got out from behind the wheel, ready to scold Russell for walking this far. It was half a mile from his place. Good thing it was mostly downhill or the octogenarian might not be breathing at all. He could have fallen... Before she could open her mouth, Gary opened his.
“Hello, sir.” Gary’s hand was out poised for a shake; a look of respect was on his face.
“I’m Gary Guzman, Bianca’s nephew and Oscar’s little brother. I’m going to be fixing up the place a bit. This fun girl is Goober.”
Russell grasped Gary’s hand before bending to pet the dog. “Goober, huh? I imagine the rotti mix who’s been jogging around my house is yours?”
“That would be Wilma. How far away is your house?”
“Half mile. Fool names for dogs.”
“I agree, but I didn’t name them. I’m watching them for friends who are doing tours overseas. My best friend is in Afghanistan.”
“I was in Vietnam. Oscar’s told me about you.”
“The Seventy-Fifth Ranger Regiment.”
“I was with the 213th Field Artillery Battalion, Eighth Army. Sorry I called the po-po on you.”
“Po-po?” Gary raised an eyebrow.
He did that a lot, and she hated that she noticed. “My boys have educated Russell on cop slang,” she supplied.
“I help with certain Boy Scout assignments,” Russell further explained.
“He’s the only man in town who knows how to tie a trucker’s knot.”
“And she found me,” Russell said. “Now, once a year every ten-year-old Boy Scout in town comes out to my place so I can teach them.”
“I can tie a trucker’s knot,” Gary said.
“Good to know,” Leann said. “I’ll divide Aaron’s troop in half. Some to Russell, and some to you.”
Gary shook his head. “But, I’m not staying.”
“If you’re fixing up this place, you’ll be here awhile,” Russell predicted, looking at the ramshackle building. “Six months, maybe seven, and that’s pushing it.”
“Won’t take that long.”
“Ha, you’ve never restored an old home, have you? Or—” Russell suddenly looked affronted “—are you going to tear it down and start with new? New’s not better, you know. This place had good bones. Things people build today have ugly, weak bones. Have you seen the new library in town? Made out of nothing!”
“I’m not tearing it down. I’m restoring. And, it’s not that big a place. No, I haven’t seen the library.”
Russell’s breathing had finally settled down to normal. “You got one big hole in the roof that you can see.”
“Sheet metal is the way to go.”
“If you buy new, though, rather than checking the metal yard, it won’t match the rest of the roof.”
“I can paint.”
Russell guffawed and mumbled something about “old barn tin,” which Gary—looking interested—immediately latched onto.
Leann left them chatting as if they’d been friends forever. “Men,” she muttered, trying not to mind that Russell hadn’t even come over to shut the car door for her and chat a bit like he was prone to do.
Trying not to wish that Gary had done it instead.
Her shift long over, she returned to the police station. The place always smelled a bit like the lemon floor polish used by the cleanup crew. Saturdays were busy, however, and so the station smelled more like sweat and cheap perfume.
Leann contributed to the sweat but not to the perfume. She didn’t want to give away her position if she were trying to sneak up on someone.
Walking across the lobby, she nodded at Lucas Stillwater, who sat behind the front desk listening to a woman complain about dog barking.
At least this time it couldn’t be Goober or Wilma.
Oscar came out of the side door and went over to say something in Lucas’s ear. They both looked up at Leann and then checked the clock hanging over the front entrance. It was half past eleven.
Chief Riley called something from the back and Oscar shouted, “Leann’s here.”
“Send her in.”
Leann headed for the chief’s office. He was staring at his computer screen and frowning. “Close the door,” he said without looking up.
“I wanted to talk to you,” Chief Riley said, “about Lucas’s retirement.”
Leann nodded, her throat going dry.
“There are two of you putting in for his job.”
“Yes, sir,” Leann acknowledged.
“You have the right attitude and the drive,” Chief Riley said, “and an outstanding record.”
“Thank you. I have a college degree and have been with the Sarasota Falls Police Department longer than Oscar.” It felt wrong to talk up herself. But, she wanted the promotion—deserved it.
“I’m going to be honest,” Chief Riley said. “Six months ago, your qualifying score at the gun range was seventy percent.”
Leann knew that. Knew that had she scored a 69 percent, she’d have been put on probation and would need to retake the qualification.
She hadn’t been able to spend enough time training. First, she had two kids and they had to have every minute she could find. Second, since being on the force, she had shot her gun only once, so the need didn’t seem to be there. Thankfully.
Sarasota Falls wasn’t a large town with a lot of folks where every call meant edge-of-the-seat danger. No, here she was more likely to direct traffic, or help Mrs. Brennan find her lost cat. Leann’s sister generated the most calls. No way would Leann need a gun when it came to Gail and hubby number three. Although, Ray had once come into possession of a stolen car, quite by accident.
“Leann?”
“I promise I’ll get a higher score next month,” she said.
“Oscar’s last score was ninety-six.”
“And if I should get a ninety-five, I’d lose the promotion due to a point? Is that what you’re telling me?”
Chief Riley shook his head. “I’m thinking a score of eighty-five would look good on your paperwork. And, the fact that the mayor has a say in who gets the position should make you want that score to be as high as possible.”
“I—” She swallowed. The mayor was good friends with her father and knew how much Ted Crabtree hated having a cop for a daughter.
Chief Riley ended the conversation with, “Officer, I think we have an understanding.”
She nodded and left his office. Her stomach felt the hammering of a million nervous butterfli
es. “You can do this,” she told herself. She’d gone to the academy. She’d run the miles and done the push-ups. Passed every exam with honors. There’d been ten women in the class, then five, then three. She’d been the only one to make it to the end.
The only people who’d come to her graduation had been her two boys, brought by her best friend, Patsy, and her parents’ housekeeper, Clarissa. Her parents neither acknowledged nor supported her career.
Sitting at her cubicle, she tried to finish her trespassing report concerning Bianca Guzman’s place. She’d managed only five words when she noted Chief Riley exit his office and glance at the clock. Then, he waited patiently while Lucas assured the same complaining woman that people were allowed to park on certain streets at certain hours.
The lady huffed and left.
Leann listened a moment, finally overhearing Lucas say, “She was gone exactly two hours and two minutes.”
“You sure?” Oscar said. “You were dealing with the parking lady.”
“I still managed to look at the clock and write down Leann’s arrival time.”
Huh? Her arrival time?
“I said three hours,” Oscar said. “I’m the closest.”
“No,” Chief Riley objected. “I said an hour and ten minutes. That’s fifty-two minutes.”
“But three hours is...” Oscar’s words tapered off. “You’re right.”
“I totally blew it,” Lucas said. “I predicted four hours and thirty minutes.”
“A month ago, you’d have been right. Put my little brother alone with a single female, and he’d have kept her occupied for hours,” Oscar said.
Leann’s hackles went up.
“But, Leann’s different,” Oscar said. “I’ve told him to curb the romance.”
What? Leann bit back the slew of words that started to surface.
“And,” Oscar continued, “Gary’s not himself. He’s a bit more aimless than usual.”
“Okay, ’fess up. Why are Gary and I being scrutinized?” Leann demanded, giving Oscar her most annoyed look.
Oscar grinned. “We did a pool with each of us estimating how long you’d spend out at the old cabin ascertaining that Gary wasn’t a trespasser.”
Leann turned to Lucas, aghast. “You thought I might stay out there for more than four hours?”
“Oscar says his brother mentioned your name once or twice, or twenty, so...”
Oscar nudged Lucas and gave a cease-and-desist glare.
Gary had mentioned her once or twice or twenty?
Great. Her coworkers thought that just because a guy was good-looking, she might take longer on a call. Still muttering, she went through the hallway door, making sure it slammed behind her. Taking a soda from the fridge in the break room, she tried to gather her thoughts.
She was annoyed, mostly with herself. She’d never spent two hours on a trespassing call. Especially one that didn’t really involve a trespasser...and seemed like such a good guy.
CHAPTER NINE
THE HARDWARE STORE made up in effort what it lacked in appearance. The owner not only provided expert advice but also knew his way around what type of fencing Gary needed and something called garden staples that Gary had never heard of. The dogs waited in the truck, beaming approval as Gary loaded a few supplies into the back.
“Remember, both of you are only temporary,” he reminded them.
Wilma barked, but Goober gave him a look that said, “Wanna bet?”
Along with Sarasota Falls’ hardware store manager, Gary utilized Russell’s wealth of knowledge, too. Who knew that there was a market for used roof tin? Russell did, and even gave Gary two names to call. The elderly gentleman had walked down to Gary’s place the last two mornings, mostly to share coffee, but also to predict the weather. Gary could always tell when Russell was on his way because Goober would give three sharp barks and then disappear up the dirt road. The next time Gary saw the dog, she’d be herding Russell, making sure he stayed in the middle of the road, right to Gary.
“Never thought I’d let a dog boss me around,” Russell joked.
“Never thought I’d operate a home for wayward dogs,” Gary returned.
“Probably keeps you from being lonely.”
Gary had to agree, although it was hard to be lonely when Russell showed up in the morning and left in late afternoon. Between Goober trying to get Wilma to play and Russell’s talking, it was never quiet either.
Russell always had something to say, most of it helpful or at least entertaining. This morning, Russell studied the flooring Gary had installed. “I like what you did with the untreated wood. Glad you finished the last of it this morning because it’s going to rain later on today.” Gary looked at the sky. It was gray and cloud-filled like it had been since Leann drove away on Saturday—two whole days ago.
“You sure?” Gary asked.
“I’m always right.” Russell huffed and walked a few steps around the perimeter Gary had set out and leaned against a post.
Gary kept working, but had to admit that sometimes Russell fascinated him. “Rain won’t hurt this flooring. Plus, if it rains it will give me a chance to find where my weak spots are. I don’t want my dogs standing in cold or mud.”
“They’re dogs,” Russell said.
Gary looked at Goober and Wilma. Didn’t matter if they were dogs, they were his dogs, albeit temporarily, and he would do anything to protect them.
Russell chuckled and headed for one of the chairs. He immediately fell asleep, which allowed Gary to work in peace until the distant sound of thunder came.
“I don’t know that I’d go to this much trouble for dogs that weren’t mine.” Russell pushed himself out of his chair and came to observe.
“Dogs are the least of my troubles,” Gary said. It was true. The dogs were keeping him sane. Russell, too. The old man had been a steady voice of reason.
And, in truth, the cabin, at least in the daylight, intrigued him.
Nights, though, were a different story. They were long and the sounds weren’t familiar. Granted, Gary had slept here only two nights, but so far he didn’t much care for being left to his own thoughts. His last deployment had rid him of that desire.
Plus, Gary’s father had been here, right before he disappeared.
As if sensing the turning of Gary’s mood, Goober left Russell and came over to nudge her nose against Gary’s hand, strongly suggesting it was time for a petting.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Russell was offering some fairly good advice while Gary was back to work on the flooring for his dogs’ kennel, layering over the untreated wood decking with nontoxic paint that was both rot and weather resistant.
He’d slept better. Maybe the pattering of the rain on the camper’s roof soothed him. Gary didn’t know. Standing up, to give his back a rest, he told Russell, “I’ve spent more money on this kennel than I’ll ever see a return on.”
“That’s because you’re doing it well,” Russell replied, and looked at Goober, who waited outside the makeshift fencing so she’d not get the paint on her paws.
She whined, clearly wanting to be next to Gary instead of separated.
“I think that one favors you.” Russell came to stand next to the nearest post. He had about a five-minute delay when it came to keeping up with Gary.
“I like her, too.” His family had had dogs during his youth. Animals that came to the family either because they’d shown up one day and hadn’t gone away or animals given because someone was moving, allergic or just plain didn’t want the pet anymore. Taking in strays had started with his father, Gary realized. It was an old memory, one Gary had either pushed back or forgotten until this moment, but Gary could remember his father sitting on the living room couch, a dog spread out on the coffee table, while he applied salve to some wound.
Which dog had that be
en?
Even stronger came a more recent memory. Gary’s sister, Anna, sitting at the couch, same coffee table, with a cat wrapped tightly in a towel, while she tried to force a pill down its throat.
Gary didn’t have the time. Never had. He’d been busy with sports during high school and busy with the military after that. Wilma and Goober were the first pets he was solely responsible for. Not that they were his, not really. All Wilma wanted was Max, but Gary hadn’t heard from his buddy since he’d dropped the coaster-eating dog off.
Now, on the other hand, Goober had decided Gary was hers and stuck to his side when she wasn’t trying to herd Wilma into behaving. Gary had a bad feeling about William Benedict, Goober’s owner. He’d not responded to Gary’s texts and emails.
“That one likes you, too,” Russell said, jutting his chin to the left. A police cruiser wound its way up the dirt road.
Gary rolled his eyes and asked, “You didn’t call in another trespassing report, did you?”
“No, not me.”
“Could be my brother,” Gary predicted, though he knew it wasn’t. Oscar was out of town.
“Nope,” Russell said.
“You’re right. Oscar drives slower. Maybe it’s Lucas?”
“Nope,” Russell said.
Leann parked her vehicle next to his truck and then took her sweet time talking on the phone before finally joining them. “I’m getting all the permits,” he told her before she could say a word.
“I’m not here for you.” She was all business, as usual, ignoring him and focusing on Russell. “You’re not answering your phone.”
“Course not,” Russell said reasonably, “I’m here.”
“I’m not just talking about your landline. I’m also talking about the cell phone your granddaughter got you for Christmas.”
Russell had the good sense to look guilty. “I keep forgetting to charge it.”
“She’s called you all morning and got worried enough to contact me.”
“There’s nothing for Lydia to worry about.” Russell looked slightly indignant. “I walked here. Does me good to get some exercise. And, Lydia worries too much, just like you do.”
