Waiting for You

by Kasey Croshaw

  Dave gave me a wolf whistle when I walked into the kitchen to pour myself an insulated mug of hot coffee. “You look hot in your uniform, Nick,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows in approval.

  We heard the crunching of tires in the gravel driveway. I pulled Dave into my arms for a goodbye kiss for the day. “I love you, Dave,” I said.

  “I love you too, Nick,” he responded.

  Grabbing my coat and gloves and my coffee mug, I was out the door and climbing into Luker’s patrol vehicle in a flash. He drove a white Chevy Tahoe, automatic four-wheel-drive, complete with a secure transport cage in the back seat. During the day, we would be driving over to Sinclair so I could pick up my vehicle and my assigned laptop. Most of the deputies worked from their home as a base in this far-flung county. That was the good part. On days I wasn’t on patrol or in court, I could keep Amber with me at home and work on case files and paperwork.

  Driving North up Highway 30 to the Idaho State line, and back down Highway 30 to 89 and the Utah State line, we had about 60 miles to patrol. We only had one community to patrol, and that was our hometown of Onyx. That Monday morning, there wasn’t much snow on the ground from the storm, but the roads were slick, and we were checking for slide-offs. Being stranded out here in winter could be a death sentence. Luker drove, and I rode shotgun as he gave me instructions on how things operated in Sheriff Lassiter’s department.

  I told him about running into Jessica Deets at the Gas-N-Go and her reaction when I told her I was a deputy now.

  “Have you seen or heard anything from the State Crime Lab about the case?” I asked Josh.

  “No, as a matter of fact, I haven’t heard a word. We should stop in at Sheriff Jim’s office and see if he will assign the case to you,” Josh said.

  “Do you think he would give me the case?” I asked.

  “Sure, it doesn’t look like DCI is interested in the case we opened,” Josh said. “It’s a county case to prosecute, so yes, ask him.”

  The two of us stopped at the El Dorado for lunch. It was busy, but Georgia took the time to hug me and compliment me on how handsome I looked in my uniform. Amber was particularly taken the fact that I was wearing a Sheriff’s Deputy badge.

  “Wow, you are a depady now, just like Josh,” she said, laughing and kissing me on the cheek as I held her in my arm.

  I carried Amber with me as I walked back through the swinging doors into the kitchen. I kissed Dave on the back of his neck as he stood facing the grill, “I love you,” I whispered.

  “I love you, too,” Dave whispered back as he turned his head to give me a long, deep kiss. “Do you and Josh want some lunch?”

  “Yes, please, I’ll have a double cheeseburger and fries,” I said. “Luker, what do you want for lunch?”

  “I’ll have whatever you’re having,” he yelled back. He was conversing with some of the guys out front.

  I took Amber back out to our booth and got drinks and tableware for us. Luker sat across the table from Amber and me.

  “Did you catch any bad guys?” Amber asked.

  “Not yet. I think you’re safe,” Luker told her. That seemed to satisfy her, and she went back to her coloring book.

  A short wait later and Georgia brought out two plates, both the same. A turkey sandwich on whole wheat and a salad with light dressing for both Josh and me.

  “Hey, I ordered a burger and fries,” I yelled back to the kitchen.

  “You’ll eat what I fix for you, and I don’t want to hear any grumbling,” Dave yelled back.

  “The service here is terrible, Georgia,” I said.

  “Don’t talk to me about it. He’s your problem now,” she said with a smile, placing our check on the table.

  I guess I was happy that he was looking out for me and keeping me eating healthy. Luker picked up the check when we were done, and I snuck back into the kitchen to steal a kiss from Dave before we left. I took over the driving, heading south on Highway 30. The day was overcast and cold, and after eating, I needed some conversation to keep me awake.

  “Any prospects on the dating scene?” I asked Luker.

  “Not really. I was seeing a guy from Salt Lake this spring. You know those Mormon boys love to fuck, but then he went on a mission. He told me that it was over and he would be getting married when he came home,” Luker said as he stared out the side window.

  “You’ll meet somebody. You’re a good-looking dude with a lot to offer,” I told him.

  “I know. I just get lonely sometimes and get feeling sorry for myself. You and Dave were lucky to find each other,” he said sadly.

  “It's not like it was a storybook romance, Luker. I fucking ran away before we even started anything. I guess I was scared to admit that I was in love with him. I can be hard-headed sometimes, but Dave keeps me grounded. Just like at lunch, when he made us eat turkey sandwiches instead of burgers. God, I love that guy,” I said with a big smile.

  As we came up over the short rise before the junction of 89 and 30, I spotted a black car run the stop sign. Luker saw it too. I sped up and was only a few hundred yards behind the Dodge Charger. I hit the horn and lights. The Dodge sped up, but I kept in close proximity while Luker ran a check on the Arizona tags. Finally, the driver must have figured he wasn’t going to outrun me and slowed to pull to the shoulder.

  Unbelting, I checked my weapon and Luker did the same. We exited the vehicle at the same time. I was making my way slowly up toward the driver’s door and touched the back fender panel with my full palm to plant a good print if needed. The windows were tinted darker than code allowed and I could make out two figures. One in the driver’s seat and one in the passenger seat. Luker stood back on the passenger side of the vehicle with his hand on his revolver’s handle. We were on high alert. I had been through this drill in Mosel, Iraq. We both knew the dangers of surprise.

  I stood back from the driver’s window as it was lowered. I leaned forward a bit and looked inside. It was a white male and a Hispanic passenger. “Afternoon sir, may I see your driver’s license, registration, and proof of insurance, please.”

  The guy started to reach in his pocket. “Slowly, let me watch as you get your wallet,” I said calmly. He lifted his behind and pulled his wallet from his back pocket and took out his license. He was making no sudden moves. I figured he had been through this maneuver before. His hand reached for the visor and retrieved the registration and insurance card.

  “You two stay put while I run your license. Do either of you have any outstanding warrants?” I asked. They both shook their heads in the negative.

  The two men weren’t nervous, and they didn’t say a word. Usually, people get nervous when they are stopped and chatter like chipmunks, but not these two. This wasn’t their first rodeo.

  I went back to the patrol vehicle and typed in the information. The driver was Daniel Phillips, but the vehicle was registered to Ivy Yakamoto, and the insurance was current. The driver didn’t have any outstanding warrants, but he did have a record in Arizona, mostly misdemeanor drug and paraphernalia convictions. Highway 89 was a known alternate route for drug runners, and I now believed we had two men doing exactly that. Getting back out into the brisk wind, I nodded to Luker. He moved up against the right-hand side of the car and planted himself there, ready for a gunner or a runner. I was betting the passenger would be a runner.

  The driver’s window lowered, and the driver held out his hand for me to return his license. “Sir, this vehicle is not registered to you. Whose vehicle is this,” I said, bending to look across at the passenger.

  “It’s my cousin’s car,” the passenger said.

  “What is your cousin’s name?” I asked.

  “I don’t remember,” the passenger answered.

  “Fine. Step out of the car, sir,” I ordered the passenger.

  The driver moved to open his door. I blocked it with my body to keep it from opening. “Keep your hands on the steering wheel, Mr. Phillips.”

  Luker took over with the
passenger. “Hands on your head, step out slowly.” As soon as the passenger was out of the car, he made a beeline for the sagebrush-covered flatlands.

  Just like I predicted, a runner. “Might as well come back, there isn’t anything out that way. The coyotes will be picking your bones clean by morning,” Luker yelled out. Josh didn’t move much and didn’t even draw his weapon. The guy had stopped about 50 yards away, out of breath, he was resting his hands on his knees, with his head down. “Come on man, just walk back to the car. If I have come out after you, I’ll end up taking you to the ground, you’ll get hurt, and I’ll get muddy.”

  The guy walked slowly back to where Luker was standing. He knew the drill, turning and placing his hands at his back to be cuffed. Luker got the guy secured in the transport cage in the back of the patrol vehicle, and then, returned to where he had been standing, drew his revolver and held it pointing at the driver from the passenger side of the vehicle.

  “Okay, Mr. Phillips, now it’s your turn. Don’t do anything stupid,” I said as I stepped back from the door and allowed him to open it. He placed his hands on top of his head stood up slowly. I locked one side of the cuff on his right wrist, and pulled that arm behind him, then reached up and pulled his left arm behind him and cuffed that wrist. Luker got Phillips secured in the transport security cage while I put an orange tow sticker in the back window. The stolen vehicle would be going to the garage for a search and then to impound.

  We had two solid arrests. Luker drove, and I notified dispatch that we were returning with two perps. With the men in booking, I headed to Sheriff Lassiter’s office.

  “Good job on your first day on patrol, Sloan,” the Sheriff said.

  “Thanks, but it was much easier having Luker there to help. I know that won’t always happen,” I said. “While I’m getting my laptop and service vehicle, I was wondering if I could take over the Lambert case.”

  “Absolutely, I was going to assign it to you anyway. The Department of Investigation in Cheyenne turned to back over to the county. It’s your baby now,” Sheriff Lassiter said.

  I collected my new laptop from the guys in IT, who showed me how to connect it to my WIFI at the trailer. That wouldn’t be a problem. Dave understood the techie stuff. I got the keys to my assigned service vehicle. It was exactly like Deputy Luker’s, a Chevy Tahoe. It would certainly be nicer than driving that POS Camry I’d had been driving. Walking out through booking, I met up with Luker.

  “The tow truck just brought in the stolen vehicle. Let’s take a look. One of the deputies is conducting the search,” he said. We both walked out into the big open garage where prisoners were brought in or transported out.

  It wasn’t much of a search. The deputy popped the trunk, and there it was. Twenty-five neatly wrapped one-pound bricks of pot. This would be a felony charge of possession with intent to distribute. That on top of the theft of the vehicle would put the two dimwits in prison for at least a few years.

  “You want to write up the report?” Luker asked.

  “Sure, it will give me a chance to remember what I learned in the Academy while it’s still fresh in my brain,” I said. “By the way, the Sheriff handed over the Lambert case for me to investigate. I might need your help.”

  “That would be great, man. We don’t have many homicides out here and having a chance at investigating this should be interesting,” Luker said as we left the Department, each in our own patrol vehicles. We headed west on Highway 30 toward home. It was a little after six, and I would hit the café just in time for dinner and then give Amber a ride home in my patrol vehicle.

  “Hey Dave,” I said coming in through the back door.

  “There’s my hard-working man. Did you catch lots of crooks on your first day?” he asked.

  I pulled him away from the grill and into my arms. “Yup, two felony arrests.”

  “Excellent. You have a seat at the counter, and I’ll bring you out a plate of spaghetti and meatballs. Oil and vinegar on your salad?” Dave asked.

  “Ranch, please,” I said as he kissed me and patted my butt to leave his kitchen.

  The dinner crowd was packed in, and Georgia was busy serving. Amber was sitting at the counter with one of her books open pretending like she was reading.

  “Uncle Nick,” she squealed when I picked her up and hugged her.

  “How’s my smart girl today? I see you are reading. That is awesome,” I said setting her back down and sitting on the barstool next to her.

  “I’m practicing my words like you showed me. Grandma has been helping me with the alphabet and my numbers. I can count to ten,” she said proudly.

  “That is awesome,” I told her. I think I was as proud of her as she was of herself. She was smart, and Dave and I could help her as she grew up.

  Georgia came by with an armload of dirty plates. “How was the first day, Deputy Sloan?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She just kissed the top of my military crew cut and kept working.

  A few minutes later, Dave came out with a small bowl of salad and a plate of spaghetti and meatballs. “Hey, I ordered ranch dressing,” I bemoaned my naked looking salad.

  “It’s mayonnaise-free ranch. It’s new,” Dave said in his smart-assed tone.

  “So I get vinegar and oil?” I asked curtly.

  “You got it, mister. Bad enough having that many carbs in the spaghetti,” Dave said as he walked back through the swinging doors.

  “You know what I like about him right now?” I whispered to Amber.

  “Nothing,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “You can say that again,” I said with a laugh.

  I enjoyed my meal and told Georgia and Dave that I would take Amber home in my cruiser. Retrieving her booster seat from Dave’s truck, I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to attach it to the transport cage, but it fit just like it would in any other vehicle.

  “Come on Amber, let’s get your coat and hat,” I said. I carried her out to the cruiser, and she got the biggest smile on her face.

  “I get to ride in the police car?” she asked. “This is fun Uncle Nick.”

  She giggled on the short ride home pretending that she was one of the bad guys being arrested.

  I parked to the side of the carport out front. The carport was reserved for Dave’s truck. When Georgia and Dave showed up about an hour later, I told Georgia that Amber might as well stay for the night. Dave had cleaned up my old bedroom and was in the process of converting it to a bedroom for a little girl.

  “I have some reports to do in the morning. Luker and I will go on patrol after lunch. I’ll bring Amber to the café then if that’s okay,” I said.

  “Please Grandma, can I stay?” Amber pleaded.

  Georgia had a big grin on her face. She liked the fact that Amber was spending so much time with Dave and me. She was still a young woman and should have a life of her own. Georgia had already raised her kids, even though one of those kids had gone missing.

  “Sure, but you be on your best behavior, young lady,” Georgia said, bending to get a kiss from her granddaughter.

  Dave was exhausted, and I pulled off his boots and sat on the floor in front of him giving him a foot massage. We had started a movie on Netflix for Amber, and she was engrossed in Paddington Bear. Looking around the living room, I realized that this is what I had wanted. This home had been devoid of this kind of love for all of my growing up years. Dave and I made a family, and Amber was just the icing on the cake, even if she wasn’t technically our daughter.

  I sat back on the sofa next to Dave, and we cuddled. Dave was soon snoring in my lap, and I just held him as my mind wandered off to the Lambert case I had been handling. I didn’t have any facts to go on, just an idea. If he was Amber’s dad, and I was sure he was, where was Amber’s mom? I remembered the lead that Luker had given me. Cleetus Jones had said he was going to Wheeling, at least I assumed he meant Wheeling, to bring Natalie home now that her boyfriend was dead.

  Making a mental note, I needed to
interview Cleet, and I needed to contact law enforcement in Wheeling to see if they had anything on Natalie or Jared Lambert. I also knew that Jessica was probably married to Lambert and had a kid. Shit, that meant that Amber, maybe, had a half-brother. This was getting intense, and I need to get some sleep.

  “Dave,” I whisper as I kissed his whiskery cheek.

  “Huh? What?” he said, trying to awaken.

  “You go to bed, and I’ll put Amber to bed,” I whispered.

  I fell asleep as soon my head hit the pillow. The night must have passed in an instant because I was awakened by the soft, wet lips of my lover sucking my morning erection. It felt fantastic, and I squirmed my body around so that we could sixty-nine one another. Our sexual drive was in high gear as we drove our pounding rods toward orgasm. Dave filled my mouth with his hot cum, and I did the same to him. We finished our lust driven romp laughing as the alarm on Dave’s cell sounded.

  After a quick shave and shower, we kissed goodbye, and Dave left for the café. I let Amber continue to sleep, and I pulled out my laptop and logged into the Sheriff’s Department server. I saw that the two guys we arrested the previous day were in jail and it reminded me that I needed to get the report finished and sent to the prosecutor’s office. Hopefully, the two honyocks would just plead guilty, and I wouldn’t have to go to court for the trial.

  The clock in the kitchen showed 7:10 a.m. which would make it 9:10 a.m. Eastern time. I did a Google search for Wheeling, West Virginia Sheriff’s Office and dialed the phone number.

  “Ohio County Correctional Center, Deputy Callen,” the voice answered.

  “Good morning, this is Deputy Nick Sloan, Lincoln County Sheriff’s Department in Sinclair, Wyoming,” I responded.

  “Wyoming! What can I do for you this morning cowboy?” Deputy Callen said jokingly.

  “For starters, I’m not a cowboy,” I said with a laugh, “but I am investigating a homicide. Can you check records and see what you have on a Jared Lambert? He’s the vic.”