by VK Powell
“Hopefully, you won’t have to find out for a very long time.” She watched as he exited with Boxer securely cradled in his arms.
“Ain’t love grand?” Brenda quipped. “Wish people were as devoted to each other as they are to their pets.”
Dani often wished the same thing. “Sure.” She escaped to the back before Brenda launched into questions about why Dani agreed with her.
Animals were more easygoing and less complicated than humans. People could be cruel and demanding, but animals were devoted and only wanted love, attention, water, and food. She related to animals just fine, people not so much.
The residents of Pine Cone could accept her as she was or not for the brief time she’d be here. Her situation was only temporary, and as soon as possible she’d be back in a place where life made sense and technology had moved beyond dial-up. She threw the cloths she’d used on Boxer into a laundry bin and moved to her next patient who wouldn’t ask questions.
Chapter Three
Grace cruised to a stop beside the old renovated house that served as the Pine Cone Sheriff’s Department office and looked in her rearview mirror. “You look like Death riding a crippled spider,” she told her reflection. And she didn’t feel much better. Dark circles ringed her bloodshot eyes from waking too many times to Harry’s screeching and scratching. By morning, the poor bird teetered on his perch close to tipping over. His feathers were thinner than the day before, and she worried for his overall health. He didn’t like her much, and the feeling was mutual, but she didn’t want him to suffer. She headed toward the back door, vowing to contact Trip today about bringing Harry in for a checkup and possibly leaving him with her.
When Grace entered the station, a musty, rotten egg odor crawled down her throat, and she choked back a gag. Petunia, Deputy Jamie Grant’s drug-sniffing terrier-poodle, had to be close. How the animal’s stench didn’t scorch her own olfactory senses remained a mystery.
“Jamie, could I have a moment? Please leave Petunia on the porch.”
“Aye aye, Sergeant.” Petunia looked toward Grace and a fart squeaked out of her butt as she pranced toward the front door.
“Quickly, Jamie.” Petunia’s flatulence had brought seasoned officers to tears on more than one occasion. Neighboring departments reluctantly asked for her assistance on drug cases, but she was just so damn good at ferreting out any kind of illegal substance.
Jamie returned and brought her athletic, six-foot frame to attention in front of Grace’s desk. Brown hair, neatly trimmed just above the collar—perfect regulation length—framed her youthful, olive-skinned face. There were a mess of gorgeous genes in her Hispanic family’s background. Jamie’s uniform pants and shirt sported a military press and lacked even one smudge or speck of lint. Something in her hazel eyes suggested Jamie was expecting a reprimand.
“At ease. Have a seat if you want. I’ve told you we’re not so formal around here.”
“It’s hard to break the military training, Sergeant.”
“And you can call me Grace unless we’re in public or the sheriff is around.”
“That might be harder.” She shifted to parade rest. “Have I done something wrong, Sarge—Grace?”
“I’m just checking in. You haven’t been here long, and I like to stay on top of things.” She wanted her new K-9 officer to like Pine Cone because she was a good cop who followed orders, cared about the people she served, and took pride in her work. And her little dog had already rustled up a couple of drug caches. The federal forfeiture money alone could pay for both their salaries for several years. Like any smart soldier, Jamie didn’t volunteer information but waited for Grace to ask a question. “So, how’s it going?”
“I’m still adapting to traffic stops, community meetings, and parking enforcement. Petunia and I handled exclusively drug and bomb duties before. And having a sergeant who shows feelings, no disrespect intended, and cares how I’m doing is weird. But overall, I do like it here, ma’am.”
“That’s good. I love Pine Cone, but I’m prejudiced because I’ve lived in this time-warped town and roamed the surrounding county most of my life. Let me know if you have any problems.” She glanced toward the porch, dreading the next part of this chat. Jamie was real sensitive about her dog and took offense easily. “Now about Petunia. Have you taken her for a checkup yet? I’d like to know she has a clean bill of health in light of her…issue.”
Jamie shifted and broke eye contact. “Not yet. She’s perfectly healthy. I swear. Her keen sense of smell just gives her digestive problems that produce a lot of gas.”
“Humor me. Let Doc Beaumont give her the once-over. She’s an excellent vet. Maybe she has some suggestions to help mitigate Petunia’s problem, for all our sakes.”
“Is she the only vet in town?” Jamie’s lips closed in a tight line and her jaw muscles worked.
“She recently hired a new big-city vet on a trial basis, but Trip is definitely the best I’ve ever seen with animals.”
“I bet.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing, Sarge.”
“I wasn’t aware the two of you had met.” Grace had a hunch when they did, Trip Beaumont would be quite taken with her. She was just Trip’s type—tall, athletic, and intelligent with a hint of vulnerability she kept closely guarded. But most women were Trip’s type, if they had a pulse. Grace just hoped Trip didn’t scare her away, because Jamie Grant and her smelly dog were providing a much-needed windfall for the Pine Cone Sheriff’s Department. “Is there some history between the two of you I need to know about?”
Jamie shook her head.
“Then make an appointment. Anything else?”
“No, ma’am.”
“How are you finding the B and B?”
“I really like it, but I have to be careful with Mary Jane’s cooking or I’ll need to be on a walking beat.”
“She’s a great cook for sure. Try to get out and enjoy yourself occasionally. Just because everybody in town knows you doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.” Jamie nodded. “Now go make nice with the public.” Jamie turned to leave, and Grace added, “Buy a can of air freshener for your car and bring me the receipt. Your relief is complaining about the smell.”
“But we ride with the windows down.”
“Guess you’d have to,” Grace mumbled to herself. “Do it to keep the peace.” She watched Jamie leave before returning to her paperwork.
Grace skimmed the overnight reports for anything unusual, checked in with the sheriff, and headed home to pick up Harry for a quick trip to the vet. She made it as far as her driveway before a call went out for a vehicle accident on Main Street near the edge of town. Patsy barely suppressed a laugh as she dispatched the incident, and Grace couldn’t resist a quick look-see.
Eve Gardner’s old black Mercedes was buried nose deep in the side of Connie’s Clip ’n Curl with uprooted azaleas and a family of plastic deer scattered across the small side yard and part of the street. Several of Connie’s beauty shop customers, pink hair curlers and all, swarmed around Trip Beaumont and a woman Grace had never seen who was seated under a shade tree. The self-proclaimed newspaper photographer, a recent high school graduate, skirted the edges of the carnage snapping pictures before stomping through more azaleas to get close-ups. Connie swatted him away.
Shayla, one of Trip and Clay’s mutual fuck buddies, pressed as close to Trip as public decorum allowed, but Trip shook her loose and knelt in front of the stranger. Grace chuckled. Trip had absolutely earned her CB handle, Fast Break, when they were in high school. Trip swore the distinction came from her prowess on the basketball court. She’d also slept with and left more women than Grace and Clay put together, but when it came to true love, the three shared a common trait—when they fell, they fell hard and fast. Too early to tell where this new woman rated on the potential spectrum, but Trip was testing the waters.
Grace climbed out of the patrol car, tucked her clipboard under her arm, adjusted the uncomfortably he
avy utility belt, and walked toward the stranger who was holding a hand to her forehead. “I’m Sergeant Grace Booker. Are you okay, ma’am?”
The woman nodded.
“Had a bit of an accident I see.”
The woman looked at her like she wanted to say, duh.
“Can you tell me your name?”
“River Hemsworth. I’m afraid it was my fault.”
“I assumed the building didn’t jump out in front of you.” She tried to suppress a smile because the scene was quite a sight. The local paper would spin headlines from this for days. Woman hits Clip ’n Curl with car and survives perm fumes. Stranger steals dead woman’s car and kills deer family during escape. Accident interrupts gossip marathon at Clip ’n Curl and starts another in the street. The possibilities were endless in a town whose highlights included monthly celebrations like crazy hat contests, popcorn stringing, plarn weaving, and vegetable carving, in addition to the more traditional peach festivals and church bake sales.
She glanced at Trip and shook her head. “I see you’ve got things in hand, as usual.” Trip’s deep blue eyes sparked, full of mischief and interest. She was on a fresh scent, and why not? River Hemsworth was gorgeous, feminine, and dressed like she shopped on Fifth Avenue. Not Grace’s type at all, but the women Trip and Clay often competed for did absolutely nothing for her, and that worked.
“I’ll call one of my deputies to fill out an accident report while we wait for Clay.” Grace spoke into her walkie-talkie before squatting beside River. “Are you sure you don’t need an ambulance, Ms. Hemsworth? That blow to your head could cause a concussion or possibly a small brain bleed.”
“I’m fine. Really. Who’s Clay?”
“Clay Cahill drives the tow truck,” Trip said.
“I’m afraid your car is inoperable. Do you know what day it is? Where you are?” Grace assessed River’s physical condition and tried to distract her.
River answered the questions correctly and seemed calm and composed, until the tow truck pulled up behind her car and Clay stepped out. River’s face flushed and she licked her lips repeatedly.
Clay looked at River, took one stutter step toward her, and froze. Clay had never been this obviously affected by a woman. Grace had a feeling Trip might have to fight for this one. Grace didn’t take sides when Trip and Clay vied for a woman’s affections, but Ms. Hemsworth seemed different somehow. Time to disperse the crowd and give Clay a clear path.
Shayla elbowed her way through the onlookers closer to Trip and handed River a glass of sweet tea. She took a long drink and got a funny look on her face.
“Connie, would you take your clients back inside, please? Clay needs room to work. You’ve all been real helpful. I’ll have the officer come inside when she’s done here and get statements and your insurance information.” She stood and motioned for the other bystanders to move away. “Nothing else to see here, folks.”
Grace glanced down at River, but her attention was squarely focused on Clay as she scanned her from head to toe.
“Clay, this is River Hemsworth. She’s having a bit of car trouble.” Grace pointed toward the crumpled Mercedes, unsure if Clay had heard her or even seen the accident yet. “River, this is Clay Cahill. She’ll take care of you as soon as we finish the report.” She checked her watch. “Where the heck is my deputy?”
“Clay can take care of her car,” Trip said, squatting in front of River again and wrapping her fingers around her wrist. Trip looked at her watch as she checked River’s pulse. “I’ll be happy to escort River to her destination in case she has a delayed reaction to the accident and needs medical attention.” She grasped River’s chin. “Look at me for a moment, so I can check your pupils.”
River obediently looked into Trip’s eyes, and she flashed one of the sexiest smiles Grace had ever seen. Trip was definitely on the make.
“Your heart rate is a bit elevated,” Trip said softly.
River shook herself, withdrew her wrist from Trip’s grip, and took another sip of the sugary tea. “I’m fine. Really. But I appreciate your help, Dr. Beaumont.”
Clay snorted and Grace barked a laugh.
“Trip might have played doctor with a few women around town,” Clay said, “But she’s actually our local veterinarian.”
River almost choked as she swallowed a mouthful of tea. When she regained her breath, she stood, looking back and forth between Trip and Clay. Grace could almost hear the internal dilemma over them.
“Thank you for your assistance, Trip, but I’m fine. I should go with Clay and make the necessary arrangements to have my car repaired.”
Clay pulled a paint-splotched rag from her back pocket and wiped her hands repeatedly, her eyes never leaving River. Clay used the nervous habit to disguise her attraction, and Grace hadn’t seen the behavior recently. She really wanted both Clay and Trip to be happily settled with great women, but she’d have to pull for Clay where the sexy newcomer was concerned. The chemistry between them was as thick as the sugar settled in the bottom of Connie’s sweet tea.
“Were you trying to make a quick getaway when the Clip ’n Curl cut you off?” Clay asked, tipping her head in the direction of the car.
“Excuse me?”
“That’s Eve Gardner’s car. I’ve worked on her vintage Mercedes before.”
“Eve was my aunt.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, my condolences.” Clay’s face paled.
Trip cleared her throat. “Eve was a fine woman. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“The best,” Grace added.
“Thank you all.” River looked from Clay to Trip and back.
Clay elbowed Trip while Grace just shook her head. They were in a standoff to see who relinquished the girl first, and Grace hoped they didn’t start marking territory. She couldn’t resist the urge to help Clay along. “Hey, Trip, can I talk to you a second before you leave?” She inclined her head toward her patrol car.
“That wasn’t subtle or anything,” Trip said as she followed Grace. “What’s up?”
“Karla left Dirty Harry at my house yesterday when she vamoosed with a redhead. I think he’s having a meltdown. Any chance you could look at him for me?”
“You’re not thinking about keeping him, are you?”
“Probably not.”
“He hates you.”
“I just need to make sure he’s physically okay before I decide anything.”
Trip gave her a hard look that quickly melted. “Grace, when are you going to stop settling for scraps and grab some real happiness for yourself? Karla mooched off you for three months. I say good riddance to her.”
“Don’t blame Karla. I went into that with my eyes open. There was some mutual using going on.”
“I’m just saying you deserve better. You’re Glitter Girl. Find someone who deserves you and be happy. The three of us aren’t called Fast Break, Paint Ball, and Glitter Girl for nothing. We have reputations to uphold.”
“Yeah, like women grow on trees around here.” Grace pulled at her utility belt. While she appreciated Trip’s concern, she couldn’t turn her back when someone needed help any more than Trip could. “I’m talking about Harry right now. He’d make a nice addition to your waiting room. He’s very entertaining.”
Trip backed away with her hands up. “No way.”
“I have to do something before he completely wrecks my place. Please?”
“No can do, my friend, but I’ll check him over. Bring him by the clinic sometime.”
“Right after I observe my new deputy’s first accident investigation.”
“Okay, whenever, I have to get these horses home and out of that hot trailer.” She started toward her truck but turned back to Grace. “And have your damn pen-happy deputy stop papering my truck with parking tickets every time I stop somewhere.” She gave Clay a good-natured shove on her way past. “River, I look forward to seeing you again under better circumstances.”
“Catch you later, pal.” Clay gave a casual wave and f
ocused on River again. “Let’s get your things out of the car while we wait for the accident report.”
“Things?” River looked confused.
“Well, I assume your dress came with shoes at some point.”
River looked down. She seemed surprised to be barefoot. “Yes, my shoes. I can’t drive in heels so I took them off.” She shrugged, smiling as if she’d amused herself. “I’ll just get them and my purse. I also have a small bag in the trunk.”
Grace felt like a voyeur as she watched Clay follow River to the open door of the car to retrieve her shoes. Clay stood behind River with one hand on the doorframe and another on the roof enjoying the view of the dress stretched tightly over River’s shapely rear as she bent over.
River grabbed her shoes and pulled back quickly, bumping her butt against Clay’s crotch. Her cheeks colored.
Clay quickly stepped back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to crowd you.”
Good first contact, pal. Grace smiled. “New love. Nothing better.”
Chapter Four
Cindy, one of Trip’s veterinary technicians, struggled to hold Churchill in a headlock while Dani bent over the massive English bulldog with her finger in his anus attempting to force his backed-up anal glands to drain. Dani hated this task, and Churchill was making it nearly impossible. He clawed the metal table trying to get away and dragged them both to the edge.
“Hold him still, Cindy,” Dani said, her teeth clenched so tight her jaws ached. “I can’t do this with him moving.”
“I’m trying, Dr. Wingate. He’s just too big. I don’t know how Dr. Beaumont does this without any help.”
Dani was wishing Trip had shared her secret when she appeared in the doorway just in time to see Churchill leap from the table, scattering medical supplies and taking both Cindy and Dani to the floor with him. Not a good impression to make on her new boss.
“Is Churchill giving you a hard time?”
