by Gerri Hill
“It was. Would have been better for dinner. I’m not used to eating that big of a meal at lunch.”
“That’s how I keep my figure. Eat a big meal at lunch then skip dinner.” His bushy mustache lifted up as he grinned. “Kidding, of course. I never miss dinner.”
They were greeted at the door by the same woman who had welcomed them yesterday—Paula.
“There you are,” Paula said. “I was thinking you wouldn’t be able to pass up Brenda’s meatloaf.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it. Her meatloaf is better than my momma’s and that’s sayin’ something.”
“I see you brought your friend back with you,” Paula said with a smile.
Murphy cringed at her statement but returned her smile. “Officer Murphy, ma’am. Good to see you again.” She deliberately adjusted her duty belt, placing her hand on the butt of her weapon. Maybe Paula failed to recognize her uniform, but surely the presence of her weapon told her that she wasn’t Tim’s friend. Perhaps she should have whipped out her handcuffs and spun them around on her finger.
“Lighten up. She didn’t mean anything,” Tim said after they’d scooted into a booth.
“So how long do I have to be here before they treat me like a cop? Or is it because I’m a woman?”
“You’re a stranger and a woman. Two strikes against you,” he said as he sipped from a glass of water. “If they have a choice of vegetables, get the green beans. There’s chunks of bacon and ham in there. And if you ask, they’ll put a pat of butter on top too.”
She stared at him for a second, then shook her head. “That is so not good for you.”
“Oh, man. That’s some good stuff right there.”
They weren’t given a menu when they came in and she wondered if she dared to request something other than the meatloaf. She glanced around them, noting a few curious glances, but for the most part, the café patrons were enjoying lunch and quiet conversations.
“Hey, y’all,” the waitress said. Murphy couldn’t remember her name from yesterday so she simply smiled at her.
“Hey, Sherry,” Tim greeted.
Oh, yeah. Sherry.
“Y’all both want the special today?”
“Sure do. You got green beans on the menu?”
“Sorry Timmy, not today. Brenda’s got squash instead.”
“That’s fine. I like her squash too.”
“Actually, I don’t think I want meatloaf,” Murphy said, causing both Sherry and Tim to stare at her as if she was talking gibberish. “Do you have something like a…a club sandwich? Turkey?”
“Got some ham left from breakfast. Will that do?”
“That’d be great. Lettuce? Tomato?”
“I’ll get her to fix up a sandwich for you.”
“Thank you.”
“Sweet tea?”
“I’ll just have water,” she said.
When Sherry left, Tim looked at her disapprovingly. “If you want to fit in, eat the daily special. Look around,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Nobody’s eating a sandwich.”
“Sorry. I’m not crazy about meatloaf. And like I said, I’m not used to eating such a heavy meal at lunch.”
“Tomorrow is burger day,” he said.
“I remember. We came here last Friday.” She leaned back against the bench seat. “How about, next week, I pick lunch places.”
“Don’t drag me to any of those fast-food chain places over by the interstate,” he warned.
“If those are off your list, there’s not much left.”
“Got the Dairy Mart. Or we could run out to Cross Roads. They make a mean burger. Sometimes they have fried chicken too.”
“Went to Cross Roads the other night.”
He nodded. “Yeah, with Lori. What’d you think?”
“Typical beer joint. Reminded me of some of the places around my hometown.”
“Oh, yeah? Where’s that?”
“Eagle Lake. It’s out west of Houston, a town a little smaller than Sawmill Springs.”
“Smaller than us? It must be small then.” He nodded at Sherry who brought his tea. He took a sip, and then reached for a sugar packet. “You heard about Earl’s daughter?”
“Didn’t know he had a daughter. What’s up?”
“She’s coming back.”
She shrugged. “Okay. And?”
“She’s a cop.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Started out here in the department, way back when,” he said. “She used to do dispatch.”
“And did she knit like Shirley does?” she asked, referring to one of the ladies who manned the call center. She didn’t recall a time she’d ever seen her without knitting needles and yarn in her hands.
“Nah, she left here right after high school. Married Kevin Lade. You know, his family has the Ford place in town.”
She nodded. “Right.”
“Anyway, they married and moved to Austin. She went to college and he got a job. Wasn’t but a year later they divorced and he moved on back home.”
“And now she’s a cop?”
“FBI,” he said. “Earl’s kept a spot open for her, hoping she’d come back one day. Now it looks like she finally is.”
She frowned. “What do you mean, kept a spot?”
“Harvey Fisher retired, oh, six or seven years ago now. Earl never filled his spot. Told us he was keeping it open for his daughter.”
“So whose spot did I take?”
“Larry Bostic’s. He transferred down to Huntsville.” He stirred his tea slowly. “Anyway, we’re all kinda wondering how that’s going to work out with her.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, she’s FBI.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe she had a desk job.”
“No, no. She was out in the field. She even did some undercover work one time too. She was in Miami for a while. Then New Orleans. Last few years, up in Dallas.”
“So what are you worried about?”
“New officer comes in, they’re low man on the totem pole, you know? Like you. Even though you were a detective and you’ve likely got more experience than all of us put together, you’re still low man on the pole.”
“Right. I understood that coming in.”
“Exactly. But what about her? She was damn FBI.”
“You speak of the FBI as if they’re godlike. Trust me, they’re not. My last assignment in Houston, I was teamed with them. And they can fuck up as well as anybody.”
Tim’s eyes widened. “Damn, Murphy. You got issues with them?”
“You might say.”
“Well, I can’t say that we’re looking forward to Kayla being here, that’s for sure. I mean, she’s nice enough when she comes by to visit Earl, but still, she’s FBI.”
“Kayla? That’s her name? So when’s she coming?”
“I don’t know. In case you haven’t noticed, Earl doesn’t talk much.”
“I thought he just didn’t like me.”
“No, no. He’s a man of few words, as they say. Lori processed the paperwork though. That’s how we found out. Guess he’s going to spring her on us one day.”
“So she’ll be out on patrol?”
“Who knows what he’ll have her do. Makes no sense to me. Why would you leave the FBI to come here?” He must have realized what he’d said as he stared at her. “Of course, you were a homicide detective in Houston. Why in the hell would you leave that and come to Sawmill Springs?”
She lifted one corner of her mouth in a smile. “Well, you see, my grandmother was living with me.”
“Oh, hell, Murphy, don’t give me that shit. Lori’s already told us the story about your grandmother and the cat.”
She laughed, not surprised that Lori—a self-proclaimed gossip—shared her story with them. She was spared having to answer as their plates were brought out. A huge platter of meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy and a heap of squash with, yes, chunks of bacon, was placed in front of Tim. He grabbed a for
k and took a scoopful even before her plate was slid over to her. On it sat a nice, thick ham sandwich, bulging with lettuce and tomato, with creamy mayo escaping at the edges.
“Didn’t know if you wanted mustard, so I brought the bottle.” She also placed a small bag of potato chips beside her plate.
“This looks great, Sherry. Thank you.”
“Well, it ain’t meatloaf, that’s for sure.” She turned to Tim. “How is it?”
His mouth was full, so he nodded and smiled.
“Good.” She leaned down. “I had Brenda put a little extra on there for you,” she said quietly before walking away.
Murphy lifted the bread and squirted a little mustard on top. “She’s flirting with you. She did that yesterday too.”
Tim blushed. “Sherry? No way.”
“She married?”
“Not anymore. Been divorced several years already, I guess.”
She took a bite of her sandwich, glad she’d requested it instead of settling for the meatloaf. “So, back to Earl’s daughter. How old is she?”
“Kayla? Oh, gosh, I don’t know. In school, I think she was a year ahead of Kent. Kent’s my younger brother,” he explained as he stabbed into the pile of squash. “So she’s probably thirty-two or thereabouts. What did you say you were? Thirty-five?”
“In a few months I will be.”
“Yeah, so, y’all are about the same age, I guess.”
“Kinda young to be quitting the FBI, don’t you think?”
“Maybe something happened.” He looked at her and smiled. “Thirty-four’s kinda young to be quitting the Houston PD, isn’t it?”
Murphy met his gaze. “Yeah. Maybe something happened.”
Chapter Three
Kayla felt her stress slip away little by little, as each mile took her closer to Sawmill Springs. Even though she’d resigned from the FBI almost two weeks ago, she felt like she hadn’t had a minute to relax. Coordinating the move had been harder than she’d imagined, especially when she couldn’t find a house to rent. Her mother, of course, had offered up her old room, but that was absolutely not an option. Well, maybe as a last resort, but certainly not up front. The very real possibility of her having to stay with them loomed large, however, as Mr. Foster at the local real estate office continued to come up empty on acceptable rental properties. Her move date was already scheduled and she’d gone so far as to rent a storage building to store her stuff when a duplex had finally opened up. She’d sent her mother over to check it out and she’d given it her approval, but with a warning—tiny, tiny kitchen. As much as she loved to cook, a tiny kitchen still won out over moving into her parents’ house.
She looked in the mirror, seeing the movers she’d hired following behind her in their large truck. She was excited to be moving, and that excitement helped to temper the fatigue she felt. The last week had been filled with goodbye lunches and dinners, and last night, she’d been surprised by a group of seven coming over with pizza and beer for an impromptu goodbye party. Conspicuously absent from last night’s group was Jennifer, the only one of their team not accounted for. Kayla wasn’t sure if she was happy Jennifer had skipped or if she was angry that she didn’t bother to say goodbye. A little of both, she supposed. After all, the main reason she was leaving was because of Jennifer.
Oh, that wasn’t entirely true. Their breakup had simply complicated things more, that was all. She’d had the urge to move on from the FBI long before that. Knowing she had a place to go to, knowing her father had an opening, made the decision easy…once she’d finally decided it was time. These last few months, with her and Jennifer trying to avoid each other as much as possible, had made their working conditions nearly unbearable—not only for them but their team as well. Avoiding Jennifer had nothing whatsoever to do with Jennifer starting to date again. She’d been asked out plenty of times herself. She could also have been dating. She simply chose not to.
“You’re the one who broke things off,” she reminded herself as she slapped at the steering wheel. Yeah, she’d been the one to end it, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t miss Jennifer—at least at first. She’d found that Jennifer was a bit spiteful, though, as if Kayla had simply crushed her with the breakup. Truth was, Jennifer knew as well as she did that their romance was far from perfect. Kayla also knew that it had run its course. She just didn’t realize how vindictive Jennifer would be. More than one person had shared some of the hurtful stories Jennifer was spreading.
With her already waning exuberance for the job, that had simply pushed her over the edge. A phone call to her father had set things in motion, and now here she was, heading back to her hometown, about to join her father’s squad. From FBI agent in a big city, to patrol officer in a small country town—all in a matter of weeks.
She pushed her sunglasses on top of her head, meeting her eyes in the mirror. The eyes that looked back at her were no longer shrouded in stress. No, they were nearly dancing with anticipation…and a little bit of nervousness as well.
She had no idea how the other officers on her father’s staff would treat her. She had no idea if she’d even fit in. Added to that fear was another: would she be bored out of her mind?
Chapter Four
Murphy stood with the others, smiling as Tim covered his mouth to stifle a yawn. It was six a.m. and shift change. This would be the last day she rode with Tim. Then, after her two days off, she’d be out on her own. She thought six weeks of orientation was a little excessive, considering her experience, but she didn’t protest. At least Tim let her drive occasionally.
Everyone was there, including Jeff and Ivan, who were off duty today. Well, everyone except for the two still out on patrol. There were nine officers sharing ten-hour and twelve-hour shifts, so there was always an overlap.
She elbowed Tim as he yawned again. “Guess I’ll be driving today since you look like you’re still half asleep.”
“Hell, I stayed up and watched a damn movie last night.”
Chief Dixon walked to the front of the room and the quiet conversation came to a halt. She’d been told it was a rare occasion that he assembled everyone like this. She assumed, as did Tim, that Earl was about to brief them on his daughter joining the staff.
“First off…Ivan, Jeff…thank you for coming in. This won’t take long.” He cleared his throat and got right to the point. “Adding a new officer to the group. Kayla Dixon, my daughter. She’ll officially start on Monday, but she’ll probably be around here the next couple of days.”
The only sound in the room was some idle shifting of feet, and Earl raised his eyebrows.
“Questions?”
Ivan raised his hand. “Is she going to be like…squad leader or something?”
The chief wasn’t an overly tall man, but his jet-black mustache and dark eyes made him a little intimidating. That, and his ever-present white Stetson hat gave him a rakish look that would have served him well in the Wild West days. He tilted his head slightly and arched one eyebrow up into the shadow of his hat.
“Squad leader? Do we have any squad leaders? Hell, do we even have enough here to be broken up into squads?”
Light laughter filled the room.
“Well, I mean, she’s FBI and all,” Ivan said, as if that explained everything.
“Yeah. But she ain’t coming in here as an agent or a detective. We ain’t got no damn detectives.” He glanced over at her. “No offense, Murphy.”
“So what’s her title?” This question coming from Tim.
“Title? Well, Timmy, I think we already got our pecking order here, don’t we? I’m the chief, Wilson here is the sergeant and the rest of you are the rest of you. She’ll be the rest of you.” His mustache lifted up in one corner. “Until I say otherwise, that is.”
He left the room leaving them all standing there. Murphy nudged Tim. “Title?”
“Hell, I thought maybe he’d make her a captain right off the bat.” He glanced over at Wilson. “Nothing against you, Pete.”
“Did you know about this, Pete?” Jeff asked.
“He told me yesterday. Of course, Lori’s been whispering about it for a week now.”
“So, is she going to be assigned to someone, like Murphy was?”
“I’d imagine so. You volunteering, Ivan?”
Ivan shook his head. “No sir. I mean, I’ve met Kayla a few times, but I don’t think I want to be riding with the chief’s daughter.”
“I just got through training one,” Tim said, motioning at her. “I’ve done my deed.”
“Training?” Murphy said. “Is that what you call it?”
The others laughed, including Tim. “Hey, I showed you all the best places to eat, didn’t I?”
“I’ll let the chief decide who she rides with. Tim, you’ve been here the longest. That’s why I put Murphy with you. He might want to do the same with Kayla.”
“How the hell am I supposed to train an FBI agent? She’s going to probably think she knows it all already,” he complained.
“Yeah, and she probably does.” Wilson motioned to the door. “Hit the streets, guys.” He paused as he glanced at Murphy. “And gal, of course.”
She smiled quickly. “I’m good at being lumped with the guys, Sergeant. The FBI agent might not appreciate it though.”
She and Tim walked out to the patrol car, and she beat him to the driver’s side, reaching for the door handle seconds before he did. “Don’t want you falling asleep while you’re driving.”
“This is our last day together, Murphy. You sure you don’t want me to take the wheel?”
“I got it.”
She pulled out onto the street, cruising slowly toward the downtown area. When Tim drove, he usually waited until eight before hitting Main Street.
“Ain’t nothing happening down here yet. Why you cruising this way?”
“If you’re going to break into one of the stores, you’re going to do it before hours, don’t you think?”
“If you’re going to break in, you’ll do it before daylight.”
“So maybe we’ll catch somebody on their way out.”
“Some fool kid tried to break into Allen’s Appliances one night,” he said. She’d heard this story twice already, but she kept quiet as he continued. “Used a baseball bat to break the window. Jeff was cruising by and saw the kid hung up in the glass. Hell, he’s lucky it didn’t chop his damn head off when the glass fell.”
