At breakfast on the third day, before Lauren’s father arrived, she and Amy sat in the kitchen. Amy was preparing to go to work. She had a metal travel mug in her hand and was twisting the top on. Lauren was jealous, she still couldn’t handle coffee yet.
“You know you can call him,” she said.
Lauren looked up. They hadn’t been talking about Jake, but he was suddenly the topic of conversation.
“What would I say?” she asked. “We’d had a fight. He said he never wanted to see me again.”
“He may have said that, but the man in the waiting room and the one sitting by your bed throughout the day and night didn’t look like he never wanted to see you again.”
“Yet it’s what he said.”
Amy looked at her seriously. “Try giving him a call and asking.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Then just say hello and let it go from there,” Amy said.
Half an hour later, Lauren sat on the steps of the Brooklyn brownstone and took out her phone. Someone had turned it off when she was in the hospital and she hadn’t reset it. When she powered it on, she had fifteen missed calls from Jake. Should she contact him? She looked at his number, wondering if she should hit the call button. He’d told her to leave his apartment, yet he’d stayed with her at the hospital. Then he left, but had tried to reach her. What should she infer from those actions? Did he want to know if she was all right? Was there something else?
She’d almost hit him with the car. He said he’d jumped out of the way, but what was he doing in the garage anyway? Had he come because she’d left or was there something else he wanted to say?
Amy was right. She should call him. But she wasn’t going to do that. She had something else in mind, but she needed to act before her father arrived. Gathering her purse and running shoes, she set out for Jake’s apartment. She’d laid his key on the piano when she left, so she had no access to the apartment if he wasn’t there.
Mrs. Turner, the housekeeper, answered the door and had her purse over her shoulder. Lauren knew she was ready to leave, but a bright smile lit her face when she saw Lauren.
“Welcome home,” she said.
A hopeful emotion was quickly replaced by one that said she didn’t live here anymore.
“Is he here?”
“He’s in the office.”
Alone, Lauren looked around the apartment. Nothing had changed since she was last in the place, but she felt as if something was missing. She couldn’t put a name to it. Was it that the room had no life? That even when she and Jake argued, there was still an energy to the place, which it now lacked.
Lauren was still looking around, when she heard a gasp from above. Jake stood at the top of the stairs.
“You’re here,” he said.
“I should have called,” she said.
He came down the stairs. Lauren watched each step he took, wondering what she would say when he stood in front of her. She’d rehearsed a thousand different scenarios on her way to the apartment, but none of them came to mind as he approached.
“I didn’t mean it,” he said. “I didn’t want you to leave.”
“You didn’t?”
“I’m in love with you.”
“Wh... What?” she stammered.
“I’ve been in love with you since you showed up in the first of those silly outfits.” He took her hand.
Lauren had been concentrating on his words, but his hand grabbed her attention. “You moved it,” she said, staring at his right hand holding hers.
“Because of you.”
“Me?”
“It happened the day of the accident. I was so concerned about you that I didn’t think. I opened the car door and you were slumped there behind the air bag. I had my cell phone in my hand before I knew I’d moved it.”
Tears misted in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She smiled.
“This is wonderful,” she said, running her hand over his arm.
“It’s better than that.” He pulled her to the sofa and they sat down. “I realized when you were around I wanted to be the man you saw me as being. Even if I never moved my hand again, I wanted your approval. I wanted you there every day.”
“But you told me—”
“I know,” he interrupted. “I just reacted, hadn’t thought it all through. What it meant. What you’re being here meant to me. Then I learned you were a doctor, and I was angry that you had lied to me.”
She reached for his hand.
“I need you, Lauren. I know that it isn’t the good times that forge a couple. It’s the bad times.”
“We’ve have been through some of those,” she said with a smile.
“You withstood it all. And when it came to me, you gave as good as you got. When I refused to do something, you cajoled me into doing it one way or another.” He hung his head for a moment before looking at her. “I know I was wrong. When I found your room empty, I ran after you and the accident happened. Can you ever forgive me?”
“Forgive you? I’m the one who deceived you.”
“I know and I understand you did it for a good reason. I should apologize for the way I treated you.”
They gazed into each other’s eyes for a long while and the tension between them broke. Laughter broke out. Grinning, Jake put his left arm around her shoulders. Lauren threaded her fingers through those on his right hand.
“I don’t think I’ll ever let this hand go,” she said.
He gathered her closer. “I don’t think I ever want you to. I love you.”
“You know I’m in love with you too,” Lauren said.
She felt him smile against her hair. “I thought as much, but it’s so much better to actually hear the words.” He leaned back and beamed at her. “Speaking of words, I have four more for you.”
“The answer is yes,” Lauren said, smiling, too.
* * *
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The Sheriff’s Second Chance
by Tanya Agler
CHAPTER ONE
“BREAKING AND ENTERING reported at Max’s Auto Repair. Not in progress.”
Two robberies in one morning? A new record for Hollydale. One Mike Harrison would have loved not breaking.
“That makes five this month.” Mike didn’t flick on the siren. Instead, he turned onto Maple Drive and caught sight of the street’s namesakes breaking into glorious shades of red and orange. “Anything else before I arrive?”
“Stay safe. We’re down a patrol team of two officers as it is.” Crackling came over the system, and Mike pulled into Max’s.
Understaffed was an understatement with eleven people doing the work of thirteen. When the tourists flooded his small town in the Smokies, snapping pictures of every tree and ridge in sight, it would make even more work for the department, which was already running on a shoestring frayed on both ends. Mike wanted these burglaries solved, and fast. It was getting so bad that he and his daught
er, Rachel, couldn’t even wait for their favorite booth at the Holly Days Diner in peace. Not with the locals coming up and jabbing him in the ribs, asking when he was entering the sheriff’s race. Shrugging, Mike always smiled and set the record straight. Hollydale already had a fine sheriff in Rick Donahue.
The sun’s rays crept over the horizon, the promise of a warm day dampening the chill permeating the September air. Mike parked his squad car near a rusted Ford Taurus and a newer model red Toyota Prius. Using caution, he emerged with his hand on his utility belt and scanned the area. Not a soul greeted him. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled. From the corner of the long brick building, a colossal brown shaggy mutt bounded over. A couple of feet behind, a woman held on to a bright blue leash for dear life.
Mike’s gaze met the woman’s too-familiar green eyes. His heart rate accelerated.
Georgie Bennett was back in town.
Her shiny cap of chestnut hair, a slight curl at the ends, was shorter now, highlighting the cheekbones of her heart-shaped face. His gaze flickered over her black T-shirt and dark jeans accentuating her curves, clearly acquired since high school. She’d been cute then, but eleven years after graduation? The girl next door was quite the stunner.
He stopped short of rushing over. For one, he was here on official police business. For another, their friendship had ended on a sour note. All thanks to him. In a split second, Georgie’s eyes flashed warmth, and even forgiveness. Then her jaw clenched, and she tightened her grip on the leash of the massive animal lumbering toward him.
Georgie’s dog loped over the rest of the way. With a soft whine, the mutt settled on his haunches and lolled out his tongue in a friendly greeting. At least someone was happy to see him. Mike relaxed.
“Welcome home, Georgie.” Mike glanced up and cleared his throat. “There’s been a report of a B&E at this location. You and your dog need to leave and come back later.”
“I’m the one who called it in.” Her honey voice hit him hard.
Focus, Michael. If the perp was still in the building, innocent people could get hurt. Not again. Never again.
“Stay out here with...” The animal was too small for a buffalo. “Your dog.”
Wheezing came from off in the distance. A stooped elderly man rounded the corner. Mike did a double take. It’d been a couple of months since he’d last seen his old high school teacher, Mr. Reedy. Never could get used to calling him Fred. Almost seemed sacrilegious somehow. Mr. Reedy crooked his cane on his arm and adjusted the plastic cannula near his nose before wheeling an oxygen canister toward Mike.
“About time you showed up, Officer Harrison. Georgie must have called you a good half hour ago.” Mr. Reedy stomped his cane on the pavement, not five feet away.
“Thirty-two minutes, according to my phone.” Georgie waved it under Mike’s face, her hand shaking like the red leaves of the nearby maples. This close he didn’t miss the quaver in her voice or the pallor of her ashen skin.
He couldn’t blame her. The criminal violation of a person’s private or business space was traumatizing.
Mike blew out a deep breath “You two stay out here. I’ll be right back.”
Raising his trusty old Smith & Wesson, Mike entered the garage’s reception area. Truth be told, he didn’t expect anyone in here. Not with two people and a colossal beast of a dog out front. Still, better safe than sorry.
Flipping on the light switch, he groaned. Copies of Car and Driver littered the concrete floor. Hard pink shells of chewed bubble gum were stuck on the bottom of the upended coffee table. This wasn’t anything like the B&E at Carter’s Sporting Goods, where the crime scene was as neat as his mother’s immaculate kitchen.
A quick scan of the bays in the garage yielded no evidence and looked as though they hadn’t been disturbed. Mike holstered his weapon and went outside.
“All clear.”
As soon as he called out, Georgie rushed over, Mr. Reedy several steps behind. Georgie’s dog nudged him as if asking what Mike intended to do about the mess.
“Plenty.”
“Excuse me?” Georgie’s eyebrows furrowed into a worried line. “Is that some sort of police jargon?”
“No.” Mike rubbed his temples. “How long until Max arrives? I have some questions for him.”
“About three months, give or take a week.”
“Who’s in charge while he’s gone?”
A flicker of annoyance flashed behind Georgie’s eyes, always expressive to say the least. Her shoulders stiffened, and she lifted her chin. No reason for her to be upset with him now. He was just doing his job.
“I am.”
He slipped on his own mask, controlling his surprise. Wasn’t often the town grapevine failed at its job. But if Georgie was back as a mechanic here? Georgie, a whiz with anything mechanical... Grandpa Ted’s Thunderbird, now his, might have a second chance after all.
No. There were no second chances in life. Why he hadn’t sold the car yet, he didn’t know. Stalling, most likely. Best change that as soon as possible. Tonight, even. Money from the sale would pay for those dance lessons Rachel had been begging for. He steeled himself. He had a duty to the citizens of this town. Investigating the scene would serve them better than wispy daydreams.
“Congratulations.” He removed his notepad and pencil from his shirt pocket. “Mind if I ask you some questions?”
“Can I go inside and get Beau some water first?” Her pleading tone helped Mike stifle his laughter. Georgie still had her sense of humor if she named that homely mutt Beau. “I won’t touch anything. The poor dog hasn’t had anything to drink since he arrived. He and Mr. Reedy have been here for a while.”
Georgie always had been a sucker for anything with four legs, although anything with four wheels pushed her over the moon.
Mike held up his hand. “Wait here.”
Remembering the layout, Mike hurried back with a bowl filled with water. Best he could do under the circumstances. Georgie and Mr. Reedy had made their way over to a wrought iron bench. Mike bent and held the bowl out to Beau. The dog lapped up every drop.
Half of small-town police work centered on public relations as much as investigating crimes.
“I’m going to perform a more thorough investigation and take notes. Then I’ll be back to ask you some further questions. I’ll also want to take a look at the surveillance footage before I leave.” Mike waited for Georgie’s nod and then walked away.
Entering, he stopped and examined the lock on the front door. No scratches or other sign of forced entry. Unlike Carter’s Sporting Goods, where the burglars had jimmied open the door, most likely with a crowbar, tripping the alarm. The security company had then contacted the police. A complete one-eighty from everything at this location.
He walked over to the windows. No marks of any kind there or on the locked back door, either. He huffed out a sigh and took out his fingerprinting kit. Dusting proved as futile here as it had at Carter’s. There were simply too many smears to narrow any full prints down to one suspect.
The thieves knew what they were doing. Mike would give them that much. They’d make a mistake, though. When they did, he would solve the string of B&Es and get his dependable life back. The one that didn’t involve people asking him pesky questions about running for sheriff. The one he’d scrabbled together the day Caitlyn sashayed into his dorm room announcing his impending fatherhood and he’d had to grow up quick.
As soon as Georgie provided an inventory of what was missing, he’d write up the report. Back at the station, without her. With the adrenaline of seeing her again wearing off, he needed to step back. Whenever he ran on emotion rather than logic, he ended up in a heap of trouble.
Rachel was more than enough proof of that.
* * *
SOME HOMECOMING. ONLY eighty-five days until her mentor, Max O’Hara, came back, and not an hour too s
oon. In the past five days, she’d survived her mother’s stent procedure, a burglary and now Mike Harrison.
Of the three, Mike was the worst of the lot.
Georgie Bennett crossed her arms and settled next to Mr. Reedy. Beau, the big brown mutt, ambled over, pawed Georgie’s steel-toed boot and whined. He nudged his wet snout against her hand. Then a huge pink tongue flicked out at her fingers. Glancing down, she gulped. Beau’s brown eyes expressed his desire for something, but what? Georgie didn’t speak dog. Did he want her attention? Did he want to go home? Follow him to a well and rescue a child?
“Keep a strong grip on his leash. Don’t want him to get loose. He could get hurt on the road.”
She lifted a brow. More likely Beau would wreak havoc upon the unsuspecting car and not get so much as his fur ruffled. How a man with a portable oxygen canister could take care of a dog who probably ate a pound of steak a day was beyond her. Where had this hulk of a dog been when the burglar struck? Formidable in size and weight, he’d be a great watchdog. She wiped her hand against her jeans. Either that or he’d lick the criminal until the police arrived.
“Let me take you and Beau home.”
“Need a mechanic to look at my car.” Mr. Reedy’s tinny voice drew Georgie’s attention away from Beau. “It’s screeching something awful whenever I slow down for a red light. Good thing Hollydale only has three of them.” He rubbed his chin with one hand while gripping his cane with his other. “Bad smell, too, after I park the car. Like burnt eggs. Course, I can’t rightly tell if that’s the car or Beau. He likes his hot dogs with a healthy helping of chili on top.”
Beau’s ears perked up. Figured a dog the size of a kid’s bicycle would comprehend the words hot dog and chili.
“Mind if I take a look at it?” Fixing Mr. Reedy’s car would help steady her nerves, rather shot from discovering a burglary first thing on a Tuesday morning.
“Didn’t expect to see you back in these parts again. Especially with Mike Harrison settled down.”
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