The Lawman's Runaway Bride

by Patricia Johns

  Working with Chance was going to be harder than she’d anticipated, because more than having to apologize for her actions five years ago, she’d also have to swallow her pride. Saying she was sorry was hard enough, but calling her old buddy “sir” would be a whole lot harder. And it looked like Chance wasn’t going to make that any easier for her, either.

  She buttoned her coat as she headed out the front doors of the station and didn’t look back. She’d wanted a place to belong in Comfort Creek. She just hadn’t counted on that position being lower than Chance Morgan’s.

  Chapter Four

  Chance headed down the hallway toward interview room B. There were only two interview rooms, and room A was filled with file boxes. Chance paused at the door, looking into the sparse room at the young man sitting behind a bare table. His brown hair was shaggy, hanging down over his eyes in the style the teenagers seemed to like these days. He wore a baggy winter jacket that was unzipped to reveal a shirt with a band’s logo on the front of it. He was slumped down in the chair, the cuffs off now that he was detained, and he rubbed idly at his wrists. Those cuffs had been tight.

  Chance opened the door and stepped inside.

  “Good morning,” Chance said.

  Randy was silent.

  “A little early to be drinking, isn’t it?” Chance asked.

  “You mean my age, or before noon?” Randy quipped.

  Chance wasn’t amused. Killing off brain cells at his young age was nothing to laugh at. He pulled out the chair opposite Randy and sat down.

  “Both, actually,” Chance replied.

  Randy looked away again. Chance knew Randy Ellison’s family well. His older sister, Lily, had served as temporary foster care provider for the town for a few years, and she’d also married a cop from the sensitivity training program. Randy’s mother was assistant manager at the local grocery store who worked long hours to provide for her kids. The Ellison boys had been getting more and more out of control as the years went by, and not because the town didn’t care, either.

  “You’ve got little brothers looking up to you,” Chance said.

  “So?”

  “They do what you do,” Chance replied. “You know that. Do you want them making your mistakes?”

  Silence again. Chance could tell that he wasn’t going to get anywhere this way. Randy was angry—very deeply angry—and appealing to the boy’s honor wasn’t going to suddenly fix that. Chance looked at his watch. It had been about fifteen minutes so far, and the grocery store wasn’t far from the station.

  “We’re calling your mom. She’ll be here anytime now, I’m sure.”

  Randy winced at that one, and Chance couldn’t help the smile that twitched at the corners of his lips. Iris Ellison might have her hands full with these boys, but she hadn’t given up on them yet.

  “So what do we tell her?” Chance asked.

  “What do you mean?” Randy frowned.

  “I mean, according to Officer Gillespie, you were drinking alcohol and got mouthy. You’re underage, you resisted arrest...” Chance crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Now, we can either tell her that you’ll be facing charges in the youth courts, or we can tell her that we’ve come to another arrangement.”

  “What kind of arrangement?” Randy asked, his tone suddenly more contrite.

  “Alcoholics Anonymous,” Chance said. “I want you to start attending some meetings. They’re held in the basement of the Hand of Comfort Church here in town on Tuesday evenings.”

  “I’m not an alcoholic...” Randy smiled tentatively. “I do some stupid things sometimes, but I’m not that bad. I can stop when I want to.”

  “You haven’t stopped yet,” Chance pointed out.

  “Well...” Randy swallowed hard. “I could, though. And I will. I’ll straighten up.”

  Chance had heard all of this before...from Randy and from other alcoholics. Randy’s father had been an alcoholic, and he’d wrapped his car around a tree, so there was a bit of family history here. He knew what Randy wanted to believe, and he knew that the idea that he had a really big problem scared the kid. Sixteen wasn’t very old. But now wasn’t the time to go soft on him.

  “I didn’t ask if you thought you needed help.” Chanced fixed him with a direct stare. “I asked if you wanted to be legally charged for your infractions or not.”

  Randy’s face paled and he licked his lips. “Look, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have been drinking. I just had this big fight with my mom this morning, and things have been tough lately, and—”

  “A sorry isn’t enough, Randy.” Chance shook his head. “Once you’re dealing with the law, you’re officially past an apology. That stage is for dealing with your mom, not with a police officer.”

  “But Bryce—he’ll tell you—”

  “Officer Camden won’t tell me anything I don’t already know,” Chance said. “And he’s not the one who picked you up today, either. Bryce can’t fix this, Randy.”

  Tears misted the young man’s eyes, and he suddenly looked a whole lot younger. He pulled a hand through his hair and sucked in a wavering breath. Sixteen wasn’t all that old from this side of things, but he could remember being Randy’s age and thinking he could handle it all, too.

  Chance could remember being sixteen when Noah made him promise to keep a secret about an overnight party he was going to attend complete with booze and eighteen-year-old cheerleaders. A seventeen-year-old friend of theirs ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning that weekend. They’d all felt so grown up until they had to dial 9-1-1 for an ambulance.

  “Chief Morgan.” Randy’s voice held new respect. “You don’t understand what going to AA meetings is going to do to me at school. The other guys... I mean, it’ll stick a target on my back for every single meathead and jock in that place.”

  “It’s called ‘anonymous’ for a reason,” Chance replied. “No one talks about what happens in those meetings, and no one says who’s there.”

  “Yeah, but in a town this size—”

  “Randy.” Chance’s tone firmed. “I’m a busy man, and I’m not sitting here with you talking through the pros and cons about attending those meetings. This isn’t negotiable. Either you give me your solemn word that you’ll attend those meetings, or I will personally press charges that will land you in the juvenile court. We’ve had enough.”

  Randy’s eyes widened, and he stared at Chance for a few moments.

  Chance rose to his feet and pushed the chair back under the table. He leaned his broad palms on the back of the chair and eyed the young man questioningly. “So, what’s it going to be?”

  Randy nodded. “Okay. I’ll go to them.”

  Chance was glad to hear that, not that he’d leave it up to a kid’s word of honor, either.

  “Now keep in mind that this is a legal requirement. If you don’t attend those meetings from start to finish every Tuesday evening, I will press charges. The program facilitator will report to me when you arrived and when you left every week. This is not a suggestion or a good idea. You either comply, or we start pressing charges. Are we clear on that?”

  Randy nodded hurriedly. “Yes, sir.”

  “Excellent.” Chance went to the door and opened it. He glanced back at the young man still slouched in that chair. “Randy, you can be better than this,” he added. “I know that for a fact.”

  Randy didn’t answer, and Chance stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him. Officer Gillespie leaned against the wall, apparently waiting for him to come out. Toby immediately straightened when he saw Chance.

  “I’m sorry if I was too heavy-handed with the youth, sir,” Toby said, his voice low. “He was belligerent and defiant. I thought I’d teach him a little lesson. I apologize if I went too far.”

  Chance angled his head toward the bull pen. “Walk with me.”

&
nbsp; Toby fell into step next to him as they headed out. The few officers who remained at their desks stayed engrossed in their work.

  “Randy Ellison’s father was an alcoholic who was killed in a car accident while under the influence when Randy was four or five,” Chance said. “Randy has three younger brothers and an older sister. Lily turned out just fine—she’s married to a cop, actually. The other boys...” He shrugged. “They took after their dad, it seems. But their mother is widowed and works full-time-plus, trying to keep a roof over their heads and food in the cupboards. Randy’s experienced a whole lot of discipline at school, and he’s been bullied a fair amount, too. He doesn’t need a heavy hand. He needs a solution.”

  Toby nodded. “I didn’t know the backstory, sir.”

  “Nor could you be expected to,” Chance replied.

  “What is the solution?” Toby asked.

  “Well, things have gotten out of hand with Randy Ellison over the last year, so I threatened to press charges,” Chance went on. “We aren’t doing him any favors letting him off with a talk and a warning. But if we press charges on this boy, it will change the course of the rest of his life.”

  “Maybe for the better,” Toby said.

  Chance shot the young officer a curious look. Since when did the inside of a jail help a kid back onto the straight and narrow? More often than not, the kid ended up traumatized and toughened—not a great combination.

  “Most likely not,” Chance said. “But we can’t let him run wild, either. Now, our interest in Comfort Creek isn’t just to maintain law and order, but to make sure that our kids get the best chance they can at becoming productive members of society. And sometimes that means getting creative.”

  “How creative, sir?” Toby frowned.

  “We aren’t pressing charges...yet. But he will be required to attend AA meetings for the next year in order to keep those charges at bay.”

  Toby nodded, silent.

  “It isn’t about control, Toby. It’s about a solution.”

  “And the woman—” Toby nodded toward the front door. “The one you yelled at...”

  Sadie. An image of her standing there, her eyes snapping fire and hands on her hips jumped to mind, and he pushed it back.

  “I didn’t yell at anyone,” Chance retorted.

  Toby didn’t answer, but a twitch at the officer’s eyebrow told him that he didn’t agree with that. “Fine. The woman you reprimanded—”

  “What about her?”

  “How do you deal with that kind of interference from the public? At my level, I mean. Obviously, you can get away with a lot more.”

  A lot more? How exactly had he come across there?

  “I didn’t yell at her,” Chance repeated, and he glanced over to see several officers looking at them. They turned quickly back to their computer screens as soon as they saw they’d been spotted.

  “Permission to speak freely, sir,” Toby said quietly.

  “Granted.”

  Toby licked his lips. “I’m not questioning your judgment in that situation, sir. I’m simply asking how an officer at my level could effectively deal with an angry citizen without...scaring her, sir.”

  That was why Toby was here, wasn’t it? He tended to intimidate the public and needed to learn that softer touch—which Chance hadn’t used with Sadie a few minutes ago. Had he really shouted at her? He’d been mad, but he hadn’t meant to intimidate...not really.

  “Did she look scared?” Chance asked, lowering his voice further.

  “She looked intimidated, sir,” Toby said.

  Great. That hadn’t been his intention, exactly. He’d wanted her to back off and stop treating him like a buddy, but he wasn’t the kind of man who took any pleasure in bullying a woman, either.

  “Normally, you’d use polite language when dealing with an interfering citizen,” Chance said. “You’d ask her to please step aside and allow you to do your job. You’d assure her that you will speak with her in a few minutes if she will just wait, and you maintain eye contact—it gets someone’s attention better than a raised voice.”

  All advice Chance could have put to good use with Sadie.

  “Got it, sir.”

  Chance sighed. “Okay. So if you could just wait here for Randy’s mother. When she gets here, she’s going to be upset. You can practice keeping your voice low, maintaining eye contact and using extreme politeness when speaking with her. Keep in mind that you are a physically intimidating man, and you want to make her feel safe with you. You’ll want to tell her that in exchange for compliance with an AA program, we will delay any charges against her son.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Toby still looked like a tank, but Iris could handle him. Besides, this would be some excellent practice. Guilt wormed its way up Chance’s gut as he headed toward his office. He’d been frustrated with the entire situation, and that wasn’t an excuse to take it out on Sadie. Chance was a big man, too, and he didn’t like to use that to his advantage, especially when it came to a petite woman. And he hated that he’d stooped to that...especially in front of his sensitivity trainee.

  Chance closed his office door and angled around his desk. He took the card Sadie had left with him earlier that morning out of his pocket and dialed the phone number. She picked up after two rings.

  “Good morning. This is Sadie Jenkins.”

  “Sadie— Hi...”

  “Chance?” She cleared her throat. “I mean, Chief. Hello.”

  “Chance is fine,” he said with a sigh. “I wanted to apologize for earlier.”

  “Oh...” She sounded mildly surprised. “No, I was out of line. I’m sorry, too. I just got protective. I mean that officer— It’s just the way he looks. He didn’t seem to even recognize how much that would hurt, you know?”

  Yeah, the exact reason Toby was here—to rectify that public image.

  “Randy is fine,” Chance assured her. “I’ve spoken with him, and while I can’t give you any details, we’ve got it all under control.”

  “Well...good. I’m glad. He was a good kid back then, Chance. I mean, a handful, but deep down, that boy has a good heart. I know it.”

  She sounded like the same old Sadie again, passionate, opinionated, direct. In some ways it was like no time had passed at all...and that made everything harder.

  “We still need to discuss that commemorative ceremony,” Chance said. “How about we do it on some neutral turf?”

  “Such as?”

  “Let’s meet at The Daily Grind at noon. I’ll buy you soup and a sandwich.”

  “Deal.” He could hear the smile in her voice.

  “And I’m sorry if I barked at you earlier. I probably could have handled that a little better. If I scared you, or—”

  “You don’t scare me, Chance.” He could hear the eye roll in her voice. “I could take you on, any day.”

  Chance couldn’t help laughing. “See you at noon.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  He felt better as he hung up the phone. He might not like working with her, and he might not like that she was back in town, but he wasn’t going to turn into some Neanderthal just because he was uncomfortable.

  He was a better man than that.

  * * *

  Five years ago, The Daily Grind was only about coffee and some baked goods, but Sadie liked the addition of soup and sandwiches. Otherwise, the place looked the same—the few tables by the windows, the lending library bookshelf on the wall opposite the counter. It was strange coming home after such a long absence. Everything was the same, but different. Including her.

  Reconnecting with her mother had been traumatic. Somehow, she’d carried a few daydreams with her, and when she finally saw her mother again, she’d had to let those go. Mom wasn’t going to be a mature and loving presence in her life, no matter how much she longed for
it. But she wasn’t the same free spirit who drove away with her boyfriend all those years ago, either—she was harder, more broken. Casual drug use had solidified into relentless addiction. But Sadie had seen her mother. And she’d hugged her. That would have to be enough for now.

  Sadie set her bowl of cream of mushroom soup on the table opposite Chance, then put her BLT sandwich down next to it. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she smelled the food.

  “This looks really good,” she said as she got settled.

  Chance had a bowl of minestrone soup and a cheese sandwich, and he waited until she was settled. They both bowed their heads for a silent grace. Hers consisted of a wordless lifting of her heart.

  “So you said that Randy’s doing okay?” she asked as she crumbled some saltines into her soup.

  “His mom came by this morning and picked him up,” Chance confirmed. “But I’m worried about that kid.”

  “So he’s been getting into trouble.” It still seemed hard to believe. Those boys had always been slightly wild, but they’d been good kids. Or at least she’d thought so.

  “Over the last two or three years, he’s gotten angrier,” Chance said.

  “How about the other three boys?” she asked.

  “Burke is what...fifteen now? He’s not as bad as his brother. He’s actually started helping his sister with her bed-and-breakfast. He’s running some errands for her, taking care of the yard, doing some of the heavy lifting. He’s doing really well with some responsibility. Bryce, the cop Lily married, has really taken Burke under his wing. As for the twins, they look up to Randy a lot, which isn’t ideal. He hasn’t been a great influence on them.”