McCall

by Patricia Evans Jordan

  “What about the others?” Sara turned over on her back and looked up at Sam’s face.

  “They’re going to be fine,” Sam said, smoothing the wet hair off Sara’s forehead, “But they’re already on the way to the hospital just to make sure.”

  A shout went up behind Sam, then screams and clapping that steadily increased in volume, which Sara finally recognized as relief.

  “It looks like she’s back,” Sam said, turning to look back at Sara. “Thanks to you.”

  Sara looked past Sam’s shoulder to see the blond hair that she’d wrapped around her fist lying limp on the dock, but she also saw the girl was moving, so that had to be a good sign. EMTs rushed her onto a stretcher and carried her off the dock into a waiting ambulance, squeezing what looked like a clear plastic football above a mask on her face. Then someone tried to lower a mask onto Sara’s face as she watched the ambulance doors close.

  “Get off me,” Sara said, waving off the burly EMT hovering above her. “I’m fine.”

  He retreated, laughing, and squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “You’ve got your hands full with that one, Captain. She should be fine, but watch her tonight, and bring her in if she’s having any trouble.”

  “I will,” Sam said. “Thanks, Peter.”

  The noise slowly died down as the last ambulance left and Sara tried to sit up. Sam wrapped her arms around her and pulled her gently to a sitting position.

  “Captain!” Someone shouted from the beach, “I’m sending your boat and the last rig out. Are you going to be okay on Carter’s patrol boat?”

  Sam nodded and waved him on. Sara realized then she was half-naked in a soaked T-shirt and underwear. Sam seemed to notice at the same time and waved one of the patrol guys over with a blanket. She wrapped it around Sara as she stood up, and guided her toward the boat waiting on the far end of the remaining dock. Two patrol officers tried to help her step into the boat, but Sara gave them a look and took a shaky step toward the edge. Sam swept her up in her arms in one quick motion and handed her off to the officer in the boat, who put her down and told her to stay seated. The boat took off when Sam was safely in the boat, and one of the officers handed Sara a life jacket.

  Sara looked up at Sam. “Seriously?”

  Sam smiled. “I’ve got her.” She looked at the lifejacket he was still holding out to Sara. “And just FYI, she may hit you with that unless you take it away.”

  The officer driving leaned over and caught Sam’s eye. “Where to, Captain?”

  “My house,” said Sam, ignoring the looks that ricocheted like pinballs between her officers.

  Sara half heard them discussing the details of what happened. Apparently, the kids intended it to be a practical joke in which they disconnected the far end of the dock after they drove the car onto it, setting it loose to float out into the lake.

  The foaming water whizzed by the side of the boat and Sara suddenly felt dizzy. She closed her eyes until she felt Sam kneeling in front of her, hands on her shoulders.

  “Are you okay?” She said, “Do you feel like you’re going to pass out?”

  Sara shook her head, feeling the driver shift down and the boat slow underneath her. “I’m fine,” she said, shaking her head. “I promise.”

  Sara eventually felt the boat drift to a stop against a dock.

  “Do you want one of us to help you get her up to the house, Captain?” The officer still holding the life jacket looked up at Sam, concern on his face.

  “No,” Sara interjected. “I can walk.”

  “How about you guys just hang out until you see us get in the door,” Sam said to them as they got up to leave. They nodded, and Sam and Sara stepped up onto a polished wood dock that led to carved wood stairs set in a curved path up the hill.

  “Wait,” Sara said, looking back, “My bag. It has my phone in it and I should call Jen.”

  Sam signaled the boat and one of the officers walked up and handed her Sara’s bag. She guided her up the stairs to the deck of a three-story log cabin. Floor to ceiling windows overlooked the lake and a polished wood deck spanned the entire backside of the cabin, with a cedar hot tub tucked into an alcove upstairs.

  “Okay, we’re good,” Sam called toward the boat from the door, punching a code into a keypad.

  The patrol boat took off and accelerated toward the center of the lake. Sam opened the door, noticing the wet blanket Sara was still clutching around her. Sara looked around her at a rustic living room that seemed straight out of a design magazine.

  “I’m going to try to find some clothes that might have an off chance of fitting you,” Sam said, guiding her toward the leather couch in the center of the room.

  “Do you mind if I take a shower while you do that?”

  “Of course.” Sam pointed down the hall off the great room. “It’s down that hall to the left. Just leave the door unlocked and I’ll put some clothes on the counter for you. I’ll knock, I promise.”

  “Okay,” Sara said, trying to take in her surroundings as Sam went to find clothes.

  The cabin was built in Aspen style, all three floors open to the endless floor to ceiling windows looking out onto the water. An antler chandelier hung in the middle of the great room, and a main sitting area centered around an enormous fireplace made her want to collapse on the cozy couch on the way to the shower.

  Eventually, she found the bathroom and started to turn on the water but Sara was suddenly too tired to move. She sat on the counter, thinking about the girl that she’d tried to pull from the car, her blond hair splayed out on the dock while they worked on bringing her back to life. She wondered how she was, if there was any lasting damage, or if she’d even continued to breathe. She shook the thoughts from her head, folding the patrol blanket wrapped around her neatly into a square on the counter. The shower itself was at the end of a curved corridor made of natural stone that led to a rainfall shower at the far end, forming its own separate room. There was no curtain or shower door, just a feeling she was under a quiet waterfall deep in the woods.

  “I’m putting some clothes on the counter, Sara,” Sam called, her voice muffled by the water. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m good,” Sara said, “I’ll be out in a minute, but can you call Jen from my phone? Just leave her a message and let her know I’m okay.”

  Sara heard the door shut and she rinsed the shampoo from her hair, adding a bit of conditioner to the ends, then walked out into the bathroom and toweled off. Sam had set some sweatpants and a hoodie on the counter. Sara rolled the legs of the sweats up so she didn’t trip on them and wandered back into the great room to see Sam in the kitchen.

  She sank down into the couch and held up her arms, the sleeves of the hoodie Sam had given her dangling past her fingertips.

  “How tall are you, anyway?”

  “Taller than Tom Cruise, apparently,” Sam said. “I’m five-ten.”

  “Thank you for the clothes; they’re perfect.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “I can’t imagine eating anything,” Sara said, “My throat is still burning for some reason.”

  “That’s probably a combination of water irritation and the forced air when we were trying to get you to start breathing again.”

  Sam brought some tea to the couch, and wrapped Sara in a blanket from a basket beside it. She’d dimmed the chandelier, lamps spilled out gold light into the corners of the room, and a fire crackled in the stone hearth. Sam got up to get a bottle of scotch and two glasses from the kitchen just as Sara’s phone rang. Sam picked it up and held it out to her.

  “It’s Jen.”

  “Will you talk to her?” Sara whispered, shaking her head. “My throat is killing me.”

  “Hey Jen,” Sam said, holding the phone to her ear and walking toward the couch with the scotch. She then held the phone away from her ear, as Sara heard the familiar sound of Jen running ten questions together at once.

  “Give her to me,” Sara said, holding her hand out for the phone. �
�She’s not in the mood to miss out on the details, clearly.”

  Sam handed her the phone.

  “Jen?”

  “What the fuck happened?” Jen screeched. “Sam left me a message about an accident and said you were fine, but then someone at Moxie Java told me you almost died trying to save someone and they had to resuscitate you.”

  “I didn’t almost die.” Sara rolled her eyes. “I ran out of breath but Sam got me out of the water. It was at that camp with the blue waterslide, Montauk, and Sam got called out because her boat was the closest to it when it happened. Some teenage campers thought it would be funny to drive their counselor’s car out the end of the dock, then unhook that section so it would float away.”

  She paused, pushing the sleeves of the hoodie back up her arms. “So the short version is, the dock broke, the car sank, and it was a tense few minutes before everyone was out.”

  A long pause made Sara wonder if Jen was still there.

  “Are you positive you’re okay?” Jen said. “Do you want me to come get you? Where the hell does Sam even live?”

  Sara smiled. “I’m good here. I’m just going to crawl into bed here if Sam will let me and deal with everything in the morning.”

  Sara listened to Jen for a minute or two after, then crinkled her eyebrows together and looked up at Sam, the phone still to her ear.

  “Jennifer Brighton, what do you mean you bought a houseboat?”

  Jen hung up quickly after that, and Sara put her phone down on the table.

  “She bought a houseboat?” Sam asked.

  “Don’t even ask; I have no idea,” Sara said. “Although she did say Trevor actually paid for it, not that I think he has any clue yet.” Sara tilted her head, thinking. “Actually, that may have been a smart move.”

  “She’s a smart girl,” Sam said, pouring amber scotch over ice in her glass.

  Just then, Sam’s phone rang. Sara nodded for her to answer it, and she clicked the answer button and put it to her ear. She gave one-word answers to whatever the person was saying, then put the phone down after thanking them for getting in touch.

  “The girl you saved, Amy, made it through with no lasting damage. They’re releasing her tomorrow.”

  “Wow,” Sara said, sinking back into the leather couch, tucking her feet underneath her. “But you saved her. I think we both can agree that I ended up being just one more person to bring to the surface.”

  “Hey,” Sam said, refilling their glasses, “I never would have gone back down to that car. It was pitch black in there and I had no idea there was even another person in it. The truth is that you’re the only reason she didn’t end up a body at the bottom of the lake.”

  Sara leaned against her shoulder, her eyes suddenly very heavy.

  “I have a guest room,” Sam said, running her hands through Sara’s hair, “But I’d rather keep a closer eye on you. Do you mind sleeping in my bed?’

  As sleep threatened to wash over her, Sara realized she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

  Chapter Ten

  Well, thought Sam as she headed out to her truck in the morning, her hair still wet from her cold shower, that may have been the most sexually frustrating night I’ve ever had.

  And given Sam’s penchant for straight girls after she came out during her twenties, that was saying something. Sam had tucked Sara into bed after they’d finished the scotch, and as soon as she’d brushed her teeth and slid under the covers beside her, a sleeping Sara rolled into her arms, slipping her hand under Sam’s shirt. Her breathing was deep and even; it was obvious she was in a deep sleep, but as her hand traveled over Sam’s abs, then down to her hips, Sam wished she wasn’t. To make it even worse, she’d pulled off the sweatpants Sam had given her in her sleep, and since her underwear had been wet, she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. So despite a gorgeous blonde lying in Sam’s arms all night, soft, warm, and naked from the waist down, she’d somehow kept her hands to herself. Literally, in fact; Sam had to roll Sara off her body at some point and stroke herself to a quick orgasm just to fall asleep.

  Sam headed into the station, stopping at Moxie Java to get Beth her latte, nodding to Lily at the front desk, who watched her walk through the double doors and halfway down the hall. Sam felt her eyes on her back, making a mental note to decide what the hell to do about her. They’d been having sex for two months, and since then, it was rare for a day to go by without her fucking Lily on the desk in her office after hours or bending her over the table at her cottage on the weekends. Lily was twenty-three, and technically worked for the Boise temp company that sent her to McCall, not Sam, so it wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t technically right, either.

  She got to her desk and stacked her paperwork into some semblance of order before there was a knock at the door.

  “Come in.”

  Chief Davis stuck his head around the door. “I just wanted to come over and thank you for stepping in yesterday,” he said, then hesitated. “If you hadn’t been there, those kids would have died.”

  “I’m glad I was close enough to the camp to get there in time.”

  Chief Davis nodded. “The water pressure made the doors impossible to open, and the electrical system shorted out the window controls about the same time, so all those poor kids could do is watch the water rise around them.” The chief looked down and shook his head. Sam knew he had teenagers about the same age at home.

  “Anyway,” he said, looking Sam in the eye, “I hear everyone’s going to be just fine, so you got there just in the nick of time. Well done, Captain.” He turned to leave, then paused. “You did Gus proud.”

  Sam listened to his heels click back down the hall and turned her chair around to look out over the lake.

  ****

  “Can I help you?”

  The same pretty girl with ice blue eyes sat behind the receptionist’s desk, one eyebrow raised, waiting for Sara to answer.

  “I’m here to see Sam; is she in?”

  Lily reached for the buzzer to open the double doors, still looking at Sara. “You’ve really got to start calling her Captain Draper.”

  The doors buzzed, so Sara headed towards Sam’s office and knocked lightly on the last door in the corridor.

  “Come in.”

  Sam was looking out over the lake, her chair turned away slightly from the door.

  “Hey,” Sara said, “You were gone when I woke up; I didn’t get to say thank you for last night.”

  Sam turned her chair around and smiled. “You’re easy to take care of.”

  “Well,” Sara said, “You’re great at it.”

  “Except that begging me for sex in your sleep thing.”

  Sara rounded the corner of Sam’s desk and punched her arm for effect. “I can’t believe you just said that!” She smiled and ran a hand through her hair, twisting it up into a quick ponytail. “You were amazing at that camp, by the way.” Sara paused. “It was actually pretty sexy.”

  “That was my plan the whole time,” Sam said with a wink.

  Sara took a step closer, between Sam’s knees, and closed her eyes when she felt Sam’s hands move slowly up the back of her thighs.

  Just at that moment, Sam’s phone rang, and Sara stepped back.

  “I have to go anyway,” she said, “But I’m doing a tasting at the diner later if you want to come by.”

  “I’ll try,” Sam said, not meeting her eyes as she picked up the phone.

  ****

  Sara spent the afternoon in town, leaning over the prep table in the kitchen, trying to get a list of dishes together for the tasting. She’d decided to do a free tasting of the dishes she’d chosen for her menu that afternoon, just small bites that people could just walk by and sample. She hoped to get a general idea of whether her ideas were good, or if she needed to make any changes. She’d hired Mara, the sophomore who’d helped with the fundraising breakfast, just for the day. Sara let herself into the diner and got to work pulling several of the tables outside on the side
walk in front of the diner. They would place samples of each dish at each of the small tables, bistro style, along with a small sign explaining what the dish was and what was in it. Bottles of sparkling water were chilling in the walk-in, and she’d have small glasses ready at each table. Mara would run back and forth from the kitchen with additional samples if they ran low, and she’d be there to answer questions.

  Sara decided to serve the five dishes she was positive she’d end up putting on the menu, and some alternatives she was considering if time permitted. She prepped the food all morning, getting the actual cooking time and assembly down to the bare minimum so she’d be able to get the food out quickly and refill it when necessary. She’d decided to go with a spin on British roast beef pie, with a side of braised cabbage and wholegrain mustard, buckwheat noodles with prosciutto and truffle oil, micro greens with shaved cheeses and balsamic reduction, duck fat frites served with a lemon garlic aioli, and lavender mousse. Each sample was about half a regular serving, served in a kraft paper boat. Her menu would be more thematic and cohesive by the time she opened, but she hoped this would be a great gauge of what the locals thought of the food. Mara arrived right on time and helped Sara get the tables set and decorated, and put a chalkboard sign on an easel at each end of the sidewalk, telling them more about the menu and encouraging them to try each dish. She also provided notecards and pens for guests to leave comments.

  As soon as the first tray of samples went out, people came out of the woodwork, and the turnout did seem to be primarily locals rather than tourists, which Sara couldn’t decide was a good thing or not. Mary came over right away and took two of the roast beef plates back to the drugstore, “for research purposes,” and once Sara explained that the frites were basically just fries cooked in duck fat, several people reluctantly tried them. They were generally wary of the aioli however, and so many people asked where the ketchup was she actually considered just putting it out on the table.