Our Time (Baytown Boys Book 11)

by Maryann Jordan

  Keeping her voice low, she glanced toward Jack. “There’s something about him, Belle. He’s smart and educated. Hard-working and caring. Let’s face it, I’m just a small-town girl who’s got little to offer and a lot of my own responsibilities.”

  “Are you talking about Jack?”

  Whispering, she said, “I would never in a million years call my son baggage because he is not that. Jack is my world. And because of that, there’s not a lot of men that I would let in to get close. But from what I’ve seen, Sheriff Hudson is one that I would. But then, that’s also scary.”

  Belle nodded her understanding, reaching out and placing her hand on Carrie’s. “I don’t know a lot about him either, but I know Hunter has nothing but respect for him. I also get the feeling, though, when I see Colt, that he’s very lonely. I mean, think about it…as sheriff, everyone wants a piece of him. But I think what he needs is someone who’s giving, not taking. I think you and Jack fit that perfectly.”

  Before she had a chance to respond, Hunter walked in. Carrie watched as Belle twisted on her stool, watched her husband walking toward her, and beamed her smile upon him. Hunter was muscular, his hair hanging to his collar. She watched as the two greeted each other, as though the entire world fell away and it was only Belle and Hunter in the center of their universe. Her heart was glad that Belle had that and was slightly envious at the same time.

  “Hey, Coach Simmons!” Jack called out, barely swallowing his bite of ice cream before greeting Hunter exuberantly. “It’s my last day of elementary school. I’m now officially a middle schooler.”

  Hunter walked over and congratulated Jack before moving down the counter and sitting next to Belle.

  Carrie observed as he kissed his wife lightly, having no difficulty imagining that he would have liked to have taken it much deeper. When he looked back at her, she asked, “What can I get you, Hunter?”

  “Just a cup of coffee and maybe a piece of Mavis’ pie. I knew I might be working late tonight, so I wanted to have a chance to see Belle.”

  As she set the slice of pie in front of Hunter, she jolted when Belle said, “I was just telling Carrie that I thought she and Colt would be perfect together.”

  The coffee cup in Carrie’s hand rattled as she set it down harder than she meant. Eyes wide, she said, “Belle!”

  Hunter chuckled. “You have to forgive my wife, Carrie. I think she’s on a mission to pair up all of our single friends.”

  Belle pretend-huffed, then smiled sweetly. “Don’t you think they would be good together, honey?”

  Carrie felt the heat of blush on her cheeks and had no problem imagining that her face was as red as BettyJo’s fingernails.

  Hunter held her gaze and said, “I’ve only known Colt for less than a year. But in that year, I can tell you that he throws himself into his work, partially because he’s dedicated and firmly believes in what he’s doing.”

  Carrie’s gaze did not leave Hunter as she listened to what he was saying, having the feeling that Hunter was giving her more than she was understanding. Biting her lip, she waited to see if he would say more.

  “I said partially,” Hunter repeated. “You can think about a reason why a man would throw himself into his job, besides just the job.”

  Hunter turned his attention back to his pie, quickly scraping the saucer clean. Looking toward Belle, he said, “I’ve got to get back to work. Colt and I are going out to do more investigation into the pawn shop robbery. You can walk me out, babe?”

  Belle nodded, and Hunter threw his arm around her, waved toward Carrie, and they walked out together. She watched the two of them go, wondering if she would ever see the day when Colt would throw his arm around her.

  Thinking back to Hunter’s cryptic words, she thought, If there’s nothing else in your life, then you throw yourself into your job. Sucking her lips between her teeth, she thought about everything she had heard and knew about Colt, and she realized she had never heard much about his personal life.

  Blinking out of her musings, she looked over at Jack, and saw the bowl was almost empty. “All right, kiddo, finish that up, and I’ll clock out. No working late today.”

  Colt looked around the inside of Pearl’s Pawn Shop. It was not the first time he had been in the shop, but it had been a while. Of the several pawn shops in the area, they had never had a problem with Pearl’s before.

  Jonas Pearl came from the back, a small, wizened older man, unassuming in appearance but sharp as a tack. His white hair was thick, except for the very top where he was shiny bald.

  Jonas greeted, “Detective Simmons, Sheriff Hudson.”

  The front window had the metal blinds pulled down, the broken glass had been swept away, but the display cases were still in disarray. Colt knew that it had been dusted for fingerprints and initial statements taken as to what had been stolen.

  Hunter, cutting to the chase, asked, “Do you have any reason to suspect the new girl you hired as having done this on purpose?”

  Jonas rubbed his whiskers and chin. “As upset as she was, I can’t see it. I’m a pretty good judge of character, and she was really shaken.” Sighing, he said, “I got all over Tom for leaving her alone when he left last night.”

  Tom was Jonas’ son, had practically been raised in the pawn shop business, and Jonas was in the slow process of turning everything over to Tom as he prepared for retirement.

  “We’ve circulated the list of what was taken, but as you know, a lot of it can’t be traced,” Hunter said.

  Colt’s gaze moved over the room. “You’ve checked everything? There was nothing else missing except what was in the window display?” Jonas nodded, and Colt looked over as Tom walked in from the back.

  Walking up to the counter, Tom said, “I did an inventory this morning after the police came in and did their fingerprinting. Everything that was grabbed was right there in the front. Problem was, we have a lot of good stuff there.”

  “Did it seem like anything was picked through? Anything that was left behind?”

  Tom shook his head emphatically. “No.”

  Nodding, Hunter said, “We’ll keep you up on the investigation and may be back for some identification if we find things.”

  Colt and Hunter moved back to the SUV, climbed in, and headed back to the station. “I’m going to talk to Liam again about the Bloods gang that has shown up in Accawmacke. I know they have initiation rites that their new members have to go through. This kind of hit would be right up their alley.”

  Scrubbing his hand over his face, Hunter sighed. “God, I hope we don’t have to start dealing with that here.”

  Colt agreed but wondered how long the sleepy rural county would stay safe from the influxes of the much larger city’s problems.

  6

  Colt walked into the American Legion meeting, held in Baytown once a month, and greeted his friends and fellow legionnaires. Mitch had brought the charter to Baytown when he and several of his childhood friends came back to live on the Eastern Shore after having served in the military. Mitch served as the commander, and when he stepped down, Grant Wilder, another Baytown Police officer, took his place.

  The original Baytown Boys had gone to the same high school that Colt had gone to, and the title Baytown Boys was also used for their baseball team. Colt was a year older than Mitch but played sports with them until he graduated and left for the Army. Not raised in the town, outside of school he did not spend much time with them until he got his driver’s license, and they had bonded as teenagers.

  Aiden and Brogan McFarlane ran Finn’s Pub in Baytown, a popular place for locals and visitors alike. Brogan was married to Ginny, another police officer for Baytown. Colt had also worked with Zac Hamilton when Zac was the fire chief of Baytown, now the Rescue Captain. Another original Baytown Boy, Callan Ward, had served with the Coast Guard and now worked with the Virginia Marine Police.

  Colt may have been friends with them as teens, but now, with many of the men working as first responde
rs and all of them in the American Legion, they had formed adult friendships.

  The meeting hall was filled with men and women who had served in the military. As Colt looked around, he saw the diverse group of all ages and races brought together by their experiences. His gaze snagged on someone sitting next to Jason. A rough-looking man, Colt remembered seeing him volunteering with the Baytown Fire Department, and Zac had also mentioned he was working in the tattoo shop with Jason. Joseph…that was his name.

  His gaze continued to scan the room. There were a few of the older members that he did not see at this meeting, and he made a note to check on them the next day.

  One of the responsibilities of the Sheriff’s Department was their senior outreach program. It gave seniors who were living in the county peace of mind. When a senior was enrolled in the program, they received a phone call each morning. If there was no answer, a deputy was dispatched to check on the person’s well-being. He could not remember if the older AL members were part of the outreach program but decided that was something he wanted to make sure happened.

  The meeting only lasted an hour, with the various subcommittees giving reports and information about the youth ball teams’ successful program being lauded in the community. Zac also mentioned the fishing contest from the Baytown pier that the AL was sponsoring with the Legion Auxiliary. “If you know of any kids who would like to participate, the cost for them is free,” Zac mentioned, and Jack ran through Colt’s mind.

  At the end, Grant, as the Commander, announced that it would soon be time for new officer elections. He asked the members who had put their names forward to please stand. Ginny was interested in becoming the Commander, and Colt wondered how she managed to be a police officer, mom of a newborn, and command the American Legion all at the same time. Hell, I feel like all I do is my job and that sucks up all my time. Observing her smiling face, he could not help but smile himself. If anyone can do it, Ginny could.

  Scott Redding stood up as a nominee for the Post Service Officer. Colt had only met Scott a few times but knew the former soldier was a good runner in spite of his prosthetic leg. In fact, Scott had proposed a 5K run as a fundraiser for the American Legion.

  Colt continued to nod as the other candidates stood, and by the time they voted everyone in, he was sure that the AL would be served by dedicated officers for the next year.

  At the end of the meeting, he walked several blocks to Finn’s Pub, a group of the members often gathering informally after an AL meeting.

  Walking out of the dark night into the warmly lit pub, he smiled. Aiden and Brogan had already moved behind the bar, beginning to pull beers. He made his way through the crowd to a group of tables near the back. At one time, most of the men had their women there. But in the last couple of years, several of his friends had had children, their lives and habits now changing.

  He grabbed his beer and slid into a seat, Belle and Hunter on one side, Mitch and Grant on the other side of Hunter. With a conversation about the robberies in the area between the four of them in law enforcement, he was surprised when Belle touched his arm softly. Turning to her, she smiled, leaning closer so that she could keep her voice low over the din of the crowd.

  “You know, I’ve had the chance to get to know Carrie Beaumont in the last year,” she began.

  He continued to stare, fascinated as a blush moved over her face.

  Shaking her head, she said, “I’m not very good at this, Colt.”

  “Not good at what, Belle?” His curiosity was piqued.

  She cleared her throat, her nerves obvious. “Trying to be coy. The truth of the matter, Colt, is that I think you should ask Carrie out. She’s such a nice woman and such a caring mom.”

  Nodding, he agreed. “I can’t argue with that at all. But what makes you think she’d want to go out with me?” He cringed as soon as the words left his mouth, feeling like he was in middle school, checking with the girl’s friend to see if he was going to get shot down if he asked her out. He started to back away when she turned her wide eyes up to him.

  “I think Carrie doesn’t realize what a wonderful catch she is,” Belle said.

  He leaned back in his seat, startled by Belle’s statement. Tilting his head to the side, he asked, “You’re kidding, right?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m not. But I think it’s going to take somebody very special, and somebody very strong, to let her know just how wonderful she is.”

  He wanted to ask more, no longer worried about sounding like an adolescent, but just then, Hunter turned around and said, “Hey, babe. Are you about ready to go home?”

  Belle’s pretty face went soft as she looked at Hunter. Nodding, she said, “Yeah, honey. I’m ready whenever you are.”

  Colt watched badass Hunter’s face, having seen that soft look on his other friends when they found the woman they loved. Hunter leaned forward and kissed Belle’s forehead, saying, “It’s been a long day, babe. Let me get you home.”

  Belle stood, saying her goodbyes to everyone, then turned and looked back down at Colt. Leaning down so that she did not have to shout over the noise, she said, “I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but I just hate seeing two wonderful people who could be so good for each other not give it a shot.”

  He watched Belle and Hunter walk away, Hunter’s arm casually draped around his wife’s shoulders, noting how Hunter threw his hand out to keep anyone from bumping into her as they left the crowded bar. It was a simple gesture and one that he had certainly never seen his own father use. Where the thought of his father came from he did not know but had no desire to continue down that path of thought. Draining the last of his beer, he stood and began his round of goodbyes.

  Making his own way toward the front, he looked over and saw Mitch talking to one of the older men from the AL meeting. As the man turned slightly to the side, he recognized him. George… Hell, George somebody. Just then, Mitch caught his eye and waved him over.

  “George, Mitch,” he greeted. “Is everything okay?”

  “George got a ride here tonight with one of the men who lives near him, but he’s already left and forgot to take George with him.”

  “Dang fool. Stanley can’t remember a thing. I told him don’t forget me. In fact, that’s why I’m here, because he said he was going to come to the pub after the meeting. I told him that was fine with me. Then I get here, have myself a beer, start looking around, and someone said they saw him get in his car and drive off.”

  Colt’s lips twitched as he held back a smile at George’s tirade. “I’ll be more than happy to take you home, George.”

  George turned his blue eyes up toward him, and Colt could have sworn they twinkled.

  “Well now, Sheriff, that’s real neighborly of you. I hope it won’t be too much outta your way.”

  He did not know where George lived but was willing to take him wherever he needed to go. “Are you ready? I was just about to leave.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Mitch clapped George on the shoulder as he said goodbye, then turned and shook hands with Colt.

  Stepping out of the pub, the quiet of the night immediately descended over the pair as soon as the door shut behind them. “I’m parked just up the road.”

  He shortened his stride to match the older man’s, and they soon reached his SUV. Clicking the locks, he hesitated to see if George needed any assistance, but the wiry older man quickly climbed into the passenger seat.

  “Whoowee, I ain’t never ridden in a police car before. No, sir, not my whole life. Proud to say I’ve never been in trouble with the law.”

  Grinning, Colt walked around the front and settled behind the steering wheel. It only took a moment to leave Baytown behind and get back out to the main highway. “Where do you live, George?”

  “Head to the north a little ways, Sheriff. I live on Brush Road. Got me a sweet little duplex out there. Don’t own it. I rent it, but I’ve been there for years. Got nice neighbors, an
d we don’t have any problems. I like it like that. I’m too damn old for problems.”

  Chuckling again, he nodded his agreement but barely had a chance to respond with George keeping up a running monologue. It only took ten minutes to turn onto Brush Road, but in that time he had been made aware of George’s opinion of politics, religion, and even some of the history of North Heron.

  The rural road was dark, no streetlights for illumination. He had been on this road before, but it was several years earlier. As George mentioned, with nice neighbors he would not have been called to patrol here. As his headlights beamed, he could see that they passed several small but fairly neat houses before they came to a duplex. Even in the dark, when his headlights hit them, he could see that they were older but also neatly kept.

  “Right here. This is mine,” George called out, pointing the way. “I’m the one on the left.”

  Colt turned into the drive, his headlights now facing the duplex, and he was glad to see that the front porch lights were on. George turned toward him, sticking out his thin hand, and said, “I appreciate this, Sheriff. I guarantee you that I’m going to give Stanley a piece of my mind when I talk to him tomorrow!”

  Before he had a chance to let George know that the drive home had been no problem, the front door of the duplex on the right opened, and he was stunned to see Carrie step outside. She lifted up her hand and placed it over her eyes since his headlights were facing straight toward her.

  He shut the lights off quickly as George opened his door and hopped down from the SUV. He saw a head peek around from behind Carrie and realized that Jack was still awake.

  “George! Are you okay?” she called out, concern evident in her voice.

  “Stanley left me in town and forgot to bring me home.”

  She hurried down the front porch steps and placed her hand on George’s arm. “You could have called me. I would’ve come and gotten you.”