The Sheriff of Wickham Falls

by Rochelle Alers

  Seth shook the proffered hand. “No problem.” And it wasn’t a problem whenever he diffused a situation with a conversation rather than physical force or an arrest.

  “Are you marching in the Memorial Day parade?” Harold asked.

  “It all depends on my schedule, but I’ll certainly be there. I’d like to stay and chat but I have to go to work.”

  “Be careful out there, Deputy.”

  Seth smiled and waved as he turned on his heel and walked around the corner to his house. His vacation was over and now it was time to fulfill his oath to protect and serve the residents of Wickham Falls. His steps slowed when he saw Natalia sitting on her porch reading.

  “How’s it going, Natalia?”

  Natalia’s head popped up. “It’s all good. I’m going inside in a few minutes to begin cooking, and if you have time you’re more than welcome to join me.”

  He rested a foot on the first step. “I would if I didn’t have to go to work. My shift begins at two and I’m not off until ten tonight.”

  Pushing off the rocker, she came to her feet. “Is that your regular hours?”

  Seth stared at her bare face silently admiring the flawlessness of her brown complexion. To say Natalia was a natural beauty was an understatement. He had always preferred women who were comfortable in their own skin.

  “Yes, it is.” There had been a time before his hire where the deputies had worked twelve straight hours.

  “How many days do you get off each week?”

  He angled his head, wondering what she was hatching in her beautiful head. “Two. Why?”

  “I was trying to figure out when we’d go fishing. I still have to work out my schedule with Dr. Franklin before you and I can get together.”

  “You’re really serious about fishing, aren’t you?”

  Natalia took a step and rested a hip against the porch column. “Yes, I am,” she said, smiling. “I was reading up on recreation in the region and fishing, hunting, hiking and white-water rafting were at the top of the list. I don’t hunt and I’ve never gone rafting but I am open to fishing and hiking.”

  “You’ll need a fishing license. You can apply for one at the town hall who’ll file it with the Johnson County clerk. It’ll take about a week before you’ll get the license in the mail and it will it be valid until the end of the year.”

  Natalia nodded. “I’ll definitely apply for one.”

  “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have to change.” It was the beginning of May and that meant he didn’t have to wear the fall and winter regulation wool-blend gray uniform with a matching wide-brimmed felt hat. He preferred lightweight khaki and the dark brown straw hat even during the winter months.

  “Stay safe.”

  Smiling, Seth nodded. “Thanks. I will.” Seth gave her mock salute. “See you around.”

  Natalia returned his salute. “See you around,” she repeated.

  * * *

  Seth parked the pickup in his assigned spot at the rear of the sheriff’s office. It felt strange to return to work after being off for two weeks. In the past, he’d taken his fifteen-day accrued vacation time a week at a time. Swiping his ID card, he waited for the light to change from red to green and then pushed open the door. The sheriff’s office and jail were connected with a passageway to the courthouse to minimize attention during the transfer of a prisoner from lockup to the courtroom. Most of the crimes in The Falls were misdemeanors that were quickly adjudicated by the local judge. Those charged with a felony were incarcerated until the judge signed off for them to be picked up by Johnson County law enforcement personnel.

  The sheriff was in his office, feet propped on the corner of the desk, as he talked on the phone. Seth waved to him as he made his way over to his desk where he found a pile of folders. Before leaving for vacation he had cleared up all of his pending paperwork. He smothered a curse under his breath, and knew without a doubt the cases belonged to assistant deputy sheriff Andy Thomas. Andy had become the assistant deputy because of longevity, not skill or dedication. Although he was extremely popular with the residents Andy had been warned about his dereliction of duty, and Seth knew Sheriff Jensen would’ve fired Andy if he’d been able to replace him.

  There had been a time when the town had the sheriff and two deputies, which on occasion left the department shorthanded. However, when Roger Jensen had become aware of Seth’s return to Wickham Falls, he’d offered him the position. Roger went to the members of the town council and asked them to authorize the hire of an additional deputy. The fact that Seth was a native son coupled with his military police experience had the members fast-tracking the approval and the mayor swore Seth in as the town’s newest deputy.

  “What’s all of this, Georgina?” he asked the longtime day clerk who’d just come back from her break.

  Georgina Reeves had practically grown up in the position. Her father, who’d been sheriff before Roger was elected to the position, hired her directly out of high school to oversee the office. There was a lot of talk about nepotism although there was no regulation in the books that would prohibit family members from working in the same department. She was responsible for answering phones, fielding complaints and clerical work. There was a running joke among the townspeople that Georgina never married or had children because she was wedded to her job.

  She rolled her eyes upward. “Those are Andy’s end-of-the-month cases. He’s been out with back pain for the past three days. Roger wants you to review his reports to make certain his stats are accurate.”

  Seth slowly shook his head. “Did he go to the doctor?”

  Georgina made a sucking sound with her tongue and teeth. “Please, Seth, don’t start me lying. For the life of me I don’t know why Roger won’t give him the boot because he’s always complaining about either his legs or his back.”

  Seth smiled at the attractive middle-aged woman as Georgina patted the salt-and-pepper chignon on the nape of her long neck. With her dark hair and violet-hued eyes she’d earned the sobriquet of Wickham Falls’ Elizabeth Taylor. “The military calls it goldbricking.”

  “And I call it being lazy,” Georgina spat out.

  Seth knew talking about Andy would only delay getting the files completed before Georgina entered the statistics into the town’s database. He booted up the computer on his desk and pulled up the file on those who had been processed through their department. Infractions usually ranged from speeding tickets to disorderly conduct, domestic disturbances and possession with the intent to sell. He usually began with completing paperwork, and then went out on patrol. He scheduled his dinner break at six, continued patrols until the business district closed down, and then returned to the station house to await the deputy to relieve him.

  He’d just finished reviewing Andy’s arrest reports when Roger came over to sit on the swivel chair next to his desk. The springs groaned as if in pain when the sheriff settled into a more comfortable position.

  “I need a chair that doesn’t cry whenever someone sits in it,” Seth remarked.

  “Someone who isn’t carrying more weight than they need to,” Roger said under his breath. He ran a hand over his thinning gray hair. “Mrs. Jensen has been nagging me to either go on a diet or work out but we both know that’s not going to happen until I retire, and that’s not going to be for a while.”

  Seth stared at the man who’d been the town’s sheriff for more than thirty years. When first elected, Roger was at least fifty pounds lighter and claimed a full head of dark brown hair. He’d just celebrated his sixty-second birthday and judging from his perpetually florid complexion and labored breathing, Seth prayed the man would survive to seventy—the mandatory retirement age for municipal employees.

  “I’ve told you before that you’re welcome to come to my place and use my workout equipment.”

  Roger laced his fingers together over his belly. “I�
�ll probably take you up on your offer but only after I check with Dr. Franklin. The last time I saw him he told me not to begin an exercise program until I’ve had a complete physical.”

  “Just let me know when you’re ready. This is just a suggestion, but I think you should send a requisition to the town council for new office equipment,” Seth said when the chair creaked again, the sound resembling nails on a chalkboard. “We don’t need someone suing us when they fall off that chair.” The year before the council members had allocated funds to purchase new computer and telephone equipment, and to replace a police cruiser that had been totaled when it slipped off the road and crashed into a tree during an ice storm.

  Roger nodded. “I’ll have Georgina pull up the budget to see if we have enough to buy a couple of chairs.”

  “I’ve finished checking Andy’s files, so I’m going to head out now.”

  “I’m sorry that you had to go over Andy’s files.” Roger’s brow lowered in a frown. “I’d fire him like yesterday if I could find another deputy to replace him. I’ve asked around and posted the position but so far no takers. And I prefer someone with former military experience.”

  Seth successfully hid his shock behind an impassive expression. It was the first time he’d heard Roger talk about firing Andy who continually shirked his duties. He wasn’t certain whether the assistant deputy had been on the job so long that he’d become complacent. Seth had also noticed since his hire that the sheriff had also mellowed, becoming more laid-back and tolerant.

  “Who have you asked?”

  “Giles Wainwright.”

  Seth slumped lower in the chair. The year before, Giles Wainwright had married a local girl who lived in the house opposite his on Stewart Avenue. They’d bonded immediately because both had served in the Corps and had long conversations about their prior military service. Giles occasionally asked Seth to keep an eye on his house whenever he took his wife and daughter with him when they traveled to New York and the Bahamas to manage his family’s overseas real estate holdings.

  “What did he say?”

  “He was very gracious and thanked me for asking and said once he left the military, he didn’t want to pick up a firearm again.”

  Seth wanted to tell Roger that talking to Andy wasn’t going to solve his problem of supervising his assistant. After a verbal warning, then he would have to follow that up with a written reprimand, which would give him the documentation he’d need to fire the deputy. But as the newest hire and not a supervisor Seth decided to keep his advice to himself.

  Roger stretched out his legs at the same time the worn chair springs groaned under his bulk. “Can you do me a favor?”

  Seth eyed him with skepticism. When Roger asked for a favor it usually meant working extra hours. Even if he was compensated with accruing comp time or pay, Seth had begun to jealously guard his personal time. “What do you need?”

  “I need to go up to Charleston tomorrow for a few days to take care of some family business and I want you to take over for me while I’m away. If Andy wasn’t out with his back problems I would’ve asked him.”

  “Have you cleared this with Andy?” Seth didn’t want to usurp the assistant deputy’s responsibility in the chain of command.

  “I just spoke to him. Of course he wanted to come back, but I told him not until he gets a doctor’s note clearing him to return to duty. I also sent an email to the mayor apprising him of everything.”

  Roger wanting him to run the department until his return meant Seth’s work schedule would begin at six in the morning and end twelve hours later. “Okay.”

  The sheriff exhaled an audible sigh. “Thanks, Seth. You can go home now and rest up before you come in tomorrow morning.”

  “What about Connor?”

  “He’ll be here in a couple of hours. Now that his wife is pregnant again he can use the overtime.”

  Seth would’ve preferred Roger giving him this information before coming into the station house, but he wasn’t going to look the proverbial gift horse in the mouth now that he’d been granted an additional day off.

  * * *

  Natalia filled a large pot with water and set it on the stovetop. She had debated whether to bake a chicken or make a pasta dish with sausage, and the latter won out. She had gotten the recipe from her medical school roommate who in turn had inherited it from her Italian restauranteur uncles. And Natalia had Adrienne to thank for many of the recipes that had been passed down through generations of Caputos. Adrienne had taught her to make fresh pasta for ravioli, crepes for manicotti, marinara sauce from San Marzano tomatoes and bread from scratch.

  She’d just lowered the flame under the pot when the doorbell chimed, the sound startling her. Natalia wiped her hands on a towel as she walked out of the kitchen to answer the bell. Peering through the sidelight, she saw Seth standing on the porch and unlocked the inner door, and then the outer one, her smile matching his when he held up a bottle of red and a bottle of white wine in either hand.

  “Am I too early or too late for dinner?”

  Natalia noticed he wasn’t wearing his uniform; he had on a pair of black jeans with an untucked ice-blue banded collar shirt. “I thought you had to go to work.”

  “The boss changed my hours.”

  She opened the door wider. “Please come in. You’re just in time.”

  Seth wiped his booted feet on the thick straw rug and walked into the house. He lifted his head and sniffed the air. “Something smells good.”

  “I’m baking focaccia.”

  “I didn’t know the supermarket sold frozen focaccia bread.”

  “I didn’t buy it,” Natalia admitted.

  His eyebrows lifted. “You make your own bread?”

  Turning on her heel, Natalia headed back to the kitchen. “Yes, but only when I have the time.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I hope you like Italian food.”

  Seth smiled. “I like food.”

  Natalia laughed. “And I like to cook. I always make too much, so if you’re not too proud to accept handouts, then let me know if you’re willing to accept an extra portion.”

  Cooking, reading, listening to music and viewing her favorite movies had become her escape from the ongoing frenetic chaos in a big-city hospital’s underfunded and understaffed emergency room. She was never able to make plans to join friends or family members for a social gathering because she hadn’t known if she would be able to meet them at the predetermined time.

  “I accept but it must go both ways.”

  She stopped and met his eyes. “You’re going to cook for me?”

  He set the wine bottles on the countertop. “Why not? I’m no gourmet chef, but thanks to my grandmother’s recipes I can put a palatable meal on the table.”

  Natalia winked at Seth. “So, grandmamma taught her grandbaby boy how to cook,” she teased.

  Seth slowly shook his head. “No. She taught my mother, who in turn had inherited Grammie’s recipes. Even though Mom gave me the notebook I’ve rarely used it.”

  Natalia, curious as to what Seth would prepare, extended her hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  He shook her hand. “Deal it is.”

  She returned to the stove and removed the top from the Dutch oven. The aroma from fennel, onion, garlic and crumbled sweet sausage in a sauce made with dry white wine, heavy cream, half-and-half and tomato paste filled the kitchen.

  “It looks as if I really have to step up my game,” Seth drawled as he peered over Natalia’s shoulder. “That looks and smells delicious.”

  A slight shiver eddied over Natalia when the heat from his body and the sensual scent of Seth’s cologne washed over her. He had come up behind her so silently that she hadn’t detected his closeness until she felt his warm breath in her ear.

  “This is one of my favorite Italian recipes.”

 
“What other dishes do you make?” he asked.

  “Through a lot of trial and error I’ve managed to perfect manicotti, and spinach and mushroom ravioli.”

  “So, you’re a regular Martha Stewart.”

  Natalia stirred the pot with a wooden spoon to test whether the sauce was thickening. “Not quite.”

  “You’re being modest, Natalia. You’ve transformed a sterile kitchen you’d normally see in a showroom into one that looks functional and lived-in.”

  The day before, Natalia had driven to Beckley to browse in the shops where she’d purchased framed prints of flowers, painted glazed pots filled with fresh herbs and an assortment of candles in jars of varying shapes and sizes. Dried hydrangeas overflowed in a blue Depression glass vase on the kitchen tables, and the hutch was filled with bone china, crystal stemware and demitasse cups and saucers.

  “It’s all about one’s personality,” she said. “If I’m going to have white walls, then I want contrasting or monochromatic colors.” She put the top back on the Dutch oven. “Now that you’re here I think we should eat in the dining room.”

  “Is there anything I can help you with?” Seth asked.

  “Would you mind setting the table?”

  “Of course not,” he said.

  When Natalia had invited Seth to share the meal and he’d declined, she could not have contemplated he would change his mind. She had been more than content to cook, eat alone, and then retreat to the living room where she would binge-watch The Jewel in the Crown, a series she had inherited from her mother’s extensive DVD library.

  And she was looking forward to exchanging dishes with Seth. She had always admired men who didn’t have to depend on a woman to feed them, and she was also curious as to what he would prepare.

  As Natalia gathered the tablecloth, napkins, dishes, serving pieces and glassware Seth needed to set the table, she mused as to how different he was from Daryl, who from their initial meeting had felt the need to challenge, compete and engage in one-upmanship. It should’ve been a warning that she not agree to see him again, but it had been his selfless dedication to mentoring fatherless youth that allowed her to overlook his negative personality traits.