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The Sheriff's Second Chance

Page 5

by Tanya Agler


  “My babysitter, Emily, just finished having some test done to her car. Something that sounded like missions but wasn’t.” Rachel laid her book on the counter and reached into her pink purse. “Are you Georgie?”

  “I am.” Georgie wrinkled her brows. What purpose could a kid have with her?

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the girl said with a big grin on her face. She held out her hand to Georgie, who accepted her handshake. “My grandma always says it’s much easier to get people to do your bidding if you butter them up first.”

  “Smart woman.” Georgie moved until her back collided with the edge of the counter. “Oomph.” She drank in the sight of this precocious girl, who liked to use big words and wasn’t afraid to quote her family members. A scary combination, but likeable nonetheless. “Why do you think you have to butter me up? Do you have something hidden in your trunk that shouldn’t be there?”

  Rachel giggled for a full minute.

  “How may I be of service, Miss Rachel?” Georgie dipped her head and tried to make Rachel feel like she was the most important customer ever to grace Max’s Auto Repair. For the moment, she was.

  “I want to hire you.” She opened her purse and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. Then she plunked a plastic baggie of change onto the counter. “I have twenty-three dollars and fourteen cents. Is that enough?”

  Georgie coughed away her laugh. At the memory of Mrs. Whittle, the laugh died, period. The way Mrs. Whittle patted Georgie’s cheek, the overbearing scent of her cloying perfume hurting Georgie’s nose, still elicited a shiver. Mrs. Whittle had dismissed her, insisting a child didn’t know anything. Condescension at its worst. Georgie hated it then. She still hated it.

  “For what?” Georgie folded her arms over her chest. Why wasn’t Rachel’s babysitter watching this woman in a girl’s body?

  “I want to hire you to fix my father.”

  Laughter exploded out of Georgie. Little pools of water condensed at the corners of her eyes. She dared to glance at Rachel, whose frown helped Georgie regain her composure.

  “Rachel,” Georgie said and cleared her throat. “You’ve come to the wrong place for that. I’m a mechanic. I fix cars, not people.”

  And, for the most part, twenty-three dollars and some change wouldn’t be enough to start fixing any man.

  Rachel shook her head and crinkled her eyebrows. “My father’s car is what I meant.”

  “Oh-hh-hh.” Georgie drawled out the word, glad Rachel was starting to make some sense. What kind of father, though, hired a babysitter who didn’t watch this child like a hawk? What kind of father depended on his young daughter to go around arranging repairs he should be in charge of?

  Even though her own father died in a racing accident before she was born, Georgie was sure Stephen George Bennett wouldn’t have been that type of derelict father.

  “The car’s in awful bad shape, and we can’t go on car rides anymore. With his birthday coming up, I thought...” Rachel glanced at the stack of money. Her bottom lip jutted out. “That’s not enough money, is it?”

  Georgie’s heart melted at Rachel’s story. Even Georgie’s throat was constricting the teensiest bit, not that she’d admit it.

  “Lucky for you, we’re running a special this afternoon.” Georgie unfolded her arms and scooped Rachel’s money into the bright pink purse, handing it back to its owner. “One free house call per customer. Only redeemable if your birthday is coming up. Parts and labor costs to be assessed at the scene.”

  “Huh? What’s assessed?” Rachel narrowed her eyes while pushing her purse strap to the top of her shoulder.

  “It means figuring out how much something will cost or how much something is worth. For instance, my assessment is you’re priceless. Hope your father appreciates what you’re doing for him.”

  “He does. Do you have a piece of paper?” Rachel glanced at the desk and latched onto the pen attached to the counter with a silver link chain.

  Georgie handed her some scratch paper and waited.

  “My father gets off work at seven. Is tonight good for you?”

  Georgie nodded, admiring how Rachel was straight to the point, a girl after her own heart.

  “You’ll be a great surprise.”

  Somehow, Georgie doubted that.

  As soon as Rachel had finished writing, she turned on her heel and headed for the door.

  “Goodbye, Rachel. Very nice meeting you.”

  Rachel stopped, turned around and looked right at Georgie. “You won’t forget. Tonight. After seven.”

  Georgie nodded and waved before the door closed. Beau barked, and Georgie pivoted toward Max’s office. She stopped cold. She’d have to bring Beau along. It wouldn’t be a long house call anyway. Most men didn’t expect a mechanic as a birthday gift.

  Then again, Rachel wasn’t an ordinary girl. Maybe her father would be anything but ordinary, too. She shook her head. Most of the time, a house that came with an unusual father and daughter also came with an unusual mother.

  Besides, the one man she’d have liked to spend time with while she stayed in Hollydale believed she was a common thief.

  * * *

  THE SIDEWALKS BUSTLED with people and activity this afternoon. More and more tourists were arriving in town for the display of color Hollydale was famous for. Mike nodded at a mother pushing a stroller, her husband behind her with a young girl riding on his shoulders. From the glee on the girl’s face, there was no doubt where they were heading. A peek inside Miss Louise’s Ice Cream Parlor showed they were in for a wait as a long line twisted around the iron tables and chairs. As much as he’d like to detour from his destination, Donahue and Officer Edwards were already almost finished processing the scene at Timber River Outfitters, the latest business targeted in the string of burglaries.

  Mike entered the shop, his eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. Walls filled with kayaks and shelves with outdoor gear greeted him. While some came to Hollydale for a burst of color and relaxation, others took advantage of the wonders of the Timber River, with its hiking trails and Pine Falls promising adventure.

  For Mike the burglaries themselves and Georgie’s return were all he could handle at the moment.

  The owner of the shop, a tall man in his thirties with thick brown hair, headed toward Mike, his hand extended. After a quick shake, Jeremy pointed to the back. “The sheriff and Officer Edwards are already in there, waiting for you.”

  Mike nodded. “Edwards filled me in. If you have a list of serial numbers, we’ll need them to run a check on them. Also, we’ll alert the local stores and the like.”

  Mike was about to move when Jeremy’s voice stopped him. “Have a second?”

  “Sure.”

  Jeremy went to a display of camping lanterns and picked one up. “These are our latest. One of these would be perfect for Rachel. Light enough for her to carry at night.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, but I need to be with Donahue and Edwards.”

  Stepping closer to Mike, Jeremy cleared his throat. “That’s not the real reason I wanted to talk to you.” He lowered his voice and glanced around. “Word on the street is you’re going to run for sheriff.”

  Mike froze. “I’d prefer if the word on the street had the name of the perp responsible for these burglaries.”

  “You’d be a great asset to this county. The deadline to register is coming up. Give it some thought. Sheriff Harrison has a great ring to it.” Jeremy replaced the lantern on the shelf.

  “I’ll keep you apprised of any developments.” Mike stifled a groan. That came out more ambiguous than he’d meant.

  Rushing toward the door marked for employees only, Mike entered the back and found Donahue and Edwards hovered over a desk.

  “We were examining the lock once more.” Sam Edwards rose and shrugged. “This time it wasn’t forced.”

&nbs
p; “Same as the MO at Max’s Garage.” Donahue took his time getting to his feet, his gaze going to the security camera. “Harrison, you’re in charge of getting ahold of the footage and reviewing it back at the station.” He met Mike’s gaze. “What about the company? What did you find out about them?”

  “No red flags.” Mike joined them and tapped the desk. “They’ve been doing this for years, but they’ve had some glitches around the time of the first burglaries that they insist are now worked out. They want us to catch the thieves so nothing else happens on their watch.”

  Donahue scrubbed his face. “Keep an eye out. Edwards, every spare moment I want you combing thrift stores and garage sales for the missing electronics, although they’re probably selling them online. Don’t want to close these cases without an arrest. Staff meeting on Friday to detail more overtime shifts and how we’re dealing being two officers short. Might have a lead on a new hire. You’ll be pulling a double today, Mike.”

  More work and less time with Rachel. Those new hires couldn’t come soon enough.

  * * *

  MIKE OPENED THE refrigerator and groaned. Some father he was. Overtime was running him ragged, and it was only Wednesday night. Tomorrow he’d have to find time to go grocery shopping. He reached for the gallon of milk, removed the cap and sniffed. Only three days past the expiration date. It was still drinkable.

  “Daddy?” Rachel came up from behind, and she circled her arms around his waist. He smiled at how loving his daughter was, even though there were times he fell far short of deserving it.

  Rachel released him, and he faced her.

  Reaching for her waist, he picked her up and whirled her around the small kitchen. “Hey, kiddo. Spaghetti okay for dinner?”

  “Yum, yum. My favorite.” She giggled as he returned her to a standing position. “I have a question.”

  “And I’ll do my best to answer it, but I have to know what it is first.” He bent down and pulled the big pot out of the lower cabinet.

  As he walked to the pantry, she followed. He smiled at his little shadow. After Caitlyn left and filed for a quickie divorce, granting him full custody in the process, he’d worried something fierce about letting this little one down. Same as he did on nights like tonight when the refrigerator was rather bare and overtime kept him from spending as much time as he’d like with her. Thank goodness Rachel didn’t seem to share his fears but threw herself into everything with her lovable self.

  He had to sell the Thunderbird. As soon as he did so, he’d sign her up for those dance lessons, complete with an after-school program that would take care of the need for the occasional babysitter like this afternoon and free his mother for more time for herself, a rare luxury she hadn’t had since Caitlyn left and she started caring for Rachel frequently.

  “I was thinking...”

  “That’s a good thing to do, kiddo.” He smiled and ruffled her hair. “I encourage that to the fullest.” He filled the pot with water.

  She giggled, and he reached for a jar of sauce. Ginger wandered into the kitchen, entangling herself in his legs. He popped open the sauce with too much force, and a streak of red plopped onto his favorite gray Hollydale Police Department T-shirt. Rachel laughed, and he searched for the roll of paper towels.

  The doorbell rang. Could he catch a break ever? Or at least find the paper towels. He huffed. “Rachel, please get Ginger, while I go see who’s at the door.”

  Rachel picked up Ginger, who meowed her displeasure at not having the person she wanted paying attention to her.

  “Sorry, Ginge, you know I’ll spoil you rotten later.” He looked around for a dish towel, but the bell rang again. No time to clean up if somebody was that impatient.

  He strode to the entranceway, still chastising himself about the sauce on his shirt.

  “Daddy?” Rachel called out. Her “I did something wrong” voice gave him pause, but no time for that now. Not when he had to get rid of whoever was at the door and make dinner.

  “Tell me during dinner, okay, kiddo.”

  He threw open the door. His jaw slackened at Georgie’s presence. Georgie, even more beautiful in the glow of the porch light.

  Her green eyes widened for a millisecond before a small smile crossed her lovely face. “I’m your early birthday present. One mechanic here to check out your car.”

  What with pursuing leads on the burglaries and trying to arrange childcare for Rachel, he’d forgotten about his upcoming birthday. Rather obviously, though, his mother hadn’t, unless Ginger had found a new method to communicate, which he highly doubted.

  “My mother is so going to regret this,” Mike muttered under his breath. Rather than wait for him to contact Georgie, Mom had forged ahead and hired a mechanic. And did it have to be Georgie? He stood there, the cool night breeze coming in, along with the soft chirps of the crickets. Should he offer Georgie something to drink before he sent her on her way?

  “Is this a bad time? She assured me this was a good time.”

  Why was Georgie looking behind him?

  “Do you like her, Daddy?” Rachel clapped her hands, and he turned around. His daughter’s wide smile stood in stark contrast to Ginger’s discomfort.

  The cat wriggled out of Rachel’s hands and headed over to Georgie.

  Georgie scooped up Ginger before she could run out. “Glad I kept Beau in the car. I believe this is yours.”

  “The cat would have gone straight to my mother’s house, which is where I will be heading in a minute.” Why couldn’t she have bought him a tie for his birthday? Or a gift certificate for his favorite restaurant? Why did she have to play matchmaker at his age?

  He accepted the cat.

  Rachel yanked on his T-shirt. “Daddy?”

  “Not now, Rache. Our visitor won’t be staying. Once she leaves, I’ll get dinner started.” He held a wriggling cat in his arms. Walking purposely to the living room, he bent down and released Ginger before rushing back.

  “Georgie, I can give you a quick update about what we’ve gathered about the breaking and entering while I walk you to your car. As for the birthday nonsense...”

  “It’s not nonsense, Daddy,” Rachel interrupted. Mike flinched. His daughter knew better than to talk back like that. Dismissing it, he chalked it up to hunger.

  At that exact second his stomach growled in empathy. Then he froze, his police instinct trilling. Rachel had been trying to get his attention for several minutes now. He glanced at his beloved daughter, her brightest smile kicking those bells and whistles into high gear.

  “Rachel Diana Harrison, is there something you’d like to tell me?”

  Her smile widened even more, and he was afraid at what was coming.

  “I hired Miss Georgie. Great idea, huh? One free house call to customers who have birthdays coming up.” She jumped up and down. “That’s today’s special.”

  He met Georgie’s look. Eleven years was long enough to move past prom. At least it was enough time on his part. Once she glimpsed the Thunderbird, though? Any chance of true forgiveness would disappear. No doubt Georgie would blame him for the damage to Miss Brittany.

  He sighed and shrugged. “You obviously didn’t know I’m Rachel’s father.”

  Georgie shook her head and darted a glance toward the empty driveway. “Is your squad car acting up? I can take a quick look at it and tell you if you need to bring it into the shop tomorrow.”

  “It’s at my parents’ house. The squad car’s not the problem.”

  It suddenly dawned on him how much Georgie had missed over the past years. She had no idea about Grandpa Ted or anything else that had happened in his family. How would she? Beverly never even looked at him, let alone would she pass along details about his family.

  “Then what is?”

  He started at her husky voice. He’d missed it as soon as he’d given his sister Natalie t
he infamous note. He’d missed it more over the two years she stayed in Hollydale without speaking to him.

  “Beau’s waiting in the car, and I don’t want to find a hole in the back seat.”

  Now or never. He could either show her the Thunderbird or make a quick sale without Georgie ever knowing how he’d let the car slip into a state of disrepair.

  The latter was the easy choice. He glanced at his daughter. What sort of a role model would he be if he always traveled the easy road? Grandpa Ted hadn’t taken the safe roads, preferring the twisty turns of the mountain parkways that led to sweeping vistas of mountaintops and valleys. Mike had loved riding shotgun, the wind ruffling through his hair, longer then than the shorter style he favored now.

  “Why don’t you get Beau? Then we’ll all take a walk.”

  His stomach growled again, louder this time. Rachel giggled at the outburst. Even Georgie slipped her hand over her mouth. Their gazes connected, and Mike glimpsed laughter, and something else, in Georgie’s green eyes. Something sizzled. Georgie broke the connection first.

  She glanced around the yard. “Didn’t your parents used to live on this street?”

  “Still do.” Mike gave a slight push on Rachel’s shoulders. She skipped out onto the porch next to Georgie. He closed the door. “They live two houses down where my squad car is.”

  “You couldn’t pay me to live that close to my mother.” Georgie shuddered and started for the stairs.

  “Wait a minute. I thought you were living with her.” Mike furrowed his brows and laid an arm around Rachel’s shoulder.

  If Georgie had lied to him, what else might she have lied to him about at the repair shop yesterday?

  Georgie chuckled and continued along the path. “Temporarily. Only while she’s recovering, that’s all.”

  They arrived at her Prius. Georgie unraveled Beau’s leash from the bar on the back of the passenger seat. Beau jumped out and shook his whole body, presumably enjoying the freedom after being cramped in the back seat.

 

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