“I hope you too, ma’am.”
“Good. Then we understand each other quite well. I looked forward to a long and happy working relationship here at Highland School.” She smiled and looked at her watch. “If you’ll excuse me, I have several meetings this afternoon. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask.”
The principal left me standing in the middle of the hallway. I turned around for a moment and caught sight of my reflection in the wall-sized trophy case. My crisp, powerhouse uniform was gone, replaced by navy uniform pants and a grey polo shirt with the school’s logo embroidered over the heart. I still looked very business-like, but I would cringe if anyone from my days at the academy saw me working here.
Even my dad had broken his vow of silence to get a dig in: So, just got your reference request… you’re gonna be a kindergarten cop? That suits you.
I hadn’t bothered to reply because, really… what could I say? I’d given up trying to be a police officer rather than let someone else control what I do and whom I do it with. I’d play hall monitor any day if it meant freedom to choose what I did.
“Oh look, boys and girls!” a sweet, high-pitched voice called out. “Officer Miller is in the hallway. How do we greet someone we know and still use our inside voices?” a teacher asked her class of tiny students, most of whom were barely as tall as my belt buckle.
“Hello, Officer Miller,” the class said in unison, leaning around each other and looking at me as though I were a creature they’d never seen before.
“Hello, students,” I replied with what I hoped was a friendly smile. I must have nailed it because their teacher nodded approvingly.
“Officer Miller works here at the school to keep everyone safe,” the teacher continued, and almost immediately two different hands shot up from the line of students.
“Yes, Mikayla?” the teacher asked.
“My uncle is an officer and he has a gun,” a little girl said, stepping around the line of students to get a better look at me. “Does Officer Miller have a gun?”
The teacher looked to me for a moment and I gave a tiny nod. She turned back to her class and said, “Everyone who does a job has to use the right tools for their work. Yes, Jason?”
“Can we see the gun?” Jason asked, prompting even more kids to lean out until their line resembled a very pregnant snake.
The teacher looked at me again, her eyes even wider this time. I shook my head no just barely. She turned back to her students and said, “We don’t take out guns or look at them just for fun. They’re important tools for safety, but they are not toys.”
Twenty hands went up at once, and I thought we were going to be there all day. Fortunately, the teacher had some sixth sense about her students’ questions.
“If your hand is up because you want to talk about your toys, please put your hands down and we’ll talk about your toys at sharing time,” she said. Almost immediately, every hand went down. “Okay, then we’re ready to move along.”
The teacher looked at me and said thank you, then turned back to her students.
“Remember, we keep our hands to ourselves in the hallways, but if any of my friends would like to offer Officer Miller a high-five as we head to the library, then you may do so,” she said before turning around and leading the students away.
I watched with a fixed smile as one by one the little wide-eyed children walked past me in awe, each one holding up their tiny hand for me to pat with my own. I had never experienced that kind of admiration before, and to think that I had it from these kids just for being a grown-up who wanted to protect them was almost enough to bring a tear to my eye.
I knew right then I would do anything I had to in order to keep these kids safe.
***
By the time Friday afternoon rolled around, I was ready for the weekend. This job certainly wasn’t what I’d been expecting, that was for certain. And Mrs. Pennington hadn’t been wrong about the need for a compassionate voice of reason when it came to dealing with these kids.
In the space of my first week, I’d been called on to break up three fights among fourth or fifth graders, manhandle one non-custodial dad who’d shown up in the office drunk and screaming for his kids, calmed down one parent whose child had to translate for her since she thought the records request she’d been given was something from the immigration office, and remove a snake that had wandered inside. While it was refreshing to know that I wouldn’t be driving out on patrol on a Friday night, I still desperately needed some down time.
Beth had other plans.
“Come on, it’s been ages since we’ve gone out,” she whined into the phone. “You don’t have any time for fun anymore!”
“Well, the hour commute each way could have something to do with that,” I reminded her pointedly. “I leave my house at 5:00am to get to work now. I’ve been up for eleven hours, and you want me to go clubbing?”
“Yup! Come on, just for a little while,” Beth pleaded, and I totally caved.
“But just remember what happened last time… I ended up disgracing myself by helping a guy cheat on another woman. Let’s not have a repeat, hmm?” I said before hanging up and pulling out of the parking lot of the school.
All the way home, I thought about Beth’s invite. The first few miles were filled with dread, with me kicking myself for agreeing to this. Then after a good ten minutes of thought, I began to actually warm up to the idea. After all, Finn had clearly moved on only hours after we’d gone our separate ways—so why couldn’t I? We must not have had anything that serious between us, so I was free to move on as well.
By the time I was home, showered, dressed, and ready for her to come by, I was actually looking forward to getting out and doing something fun. She was usually right about these things, so I don’t know why I fight her invitations so much. Being out and having a good time were exactly what I needed.
“You all ready to go?” Beth asked when I opened the door to her knock.
“Count me in,” I said, stepping outside and locking the door behind me. I held up my keys and said, “You driving, or should I?”
“I dunno, who needs the vodka more, you or me?” Beth teased, looking me over like she was appraising my condition.
“Honestly—and this is going to sound weird—but I’m fine. Really,” I promised her. “I’ll gladly drive, this was your idea.”
“You sure? Playing security guard for other people’s crotch goblins all week didn’t drive you to drink?” she asked. I laughed, but shook my head.
“Nope. It was actually kinda nice. Most of the students are respectful, the little ones still look up to you, and the principal has her head on straight where law enforcement is concerned. She hates having cops patrolling her hallways almost as much as I hate the idea of cops having to patrol an elementary school.”
“So you might give up on being a cop to do this?” Beth asked with an air of uncertainty.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “But it has made me question if I really was as gung-ho about becoming a police officer as I thought.”
“Really? Gosh, V, that’s all you’ve talked about for the last two years! I can’t believe that wasn’t a real goal.”
“I don’t know, I’ve started to wonder this week if it was just about stepping up and taking Jacob’s place, you know?” I put on my turn signal and changed lanes, then said, “My family has been in law enforcement since our first ancestors got off the boat. I’m starting to wonder if I was just doing this for my dad, since it would all stop with him now that Jacob’s gone.”
Beth was silent, and I couldn’t blame her. This was some heavy stuff I’d just dumped in her lap, but it had been weighing on me all week. Why had I become a cop? I’d already finished university and had double majored in English and Spanish. I could work anywhere. But ever since losing Jacob, I’d been so sure that I wanted to become a cop that I never bothered to ask myself why… or if it was even true.
Now that it had been ripped
away, I wasn’t feeling the devastation I thought I’d have. Instead, I was just ready to move onto the next thing, whatever that would be.
“Hey, your purse is buzzing,” Beth said, pointing down at the floorboard where my handbag sat by her feet. “Want me to check it?”
“Nope. Probably some robot trying to sell me a car warranty,” I answered, tapping my fingers against the steering wheel. “Besides, you are the sum total of all the people on Earth who have my phone number and want to talk to me.”
We made it to our favorite club and I found a parking spot a few blocks away. We made our way past a few restaurants and bars with outdoor seating—soaking up a few comments from inebriated admirers along the way—then joined the line at the door to get in. Fortunately, Beth had an “in” with one of the bartenders; she sent him a text, and within only a few minutes, the bouncer came down the line and found us.
“Ladies, welcome this evening,” the enormous man said as he unclipped the end of the rope from its pole to let us pass.
“Thank you,” Beth said, and I smiled as he held the door open for us.
The noise inside was exactly the right level of deafening, just the kind of sound I needed to feel energized for whatever lay ahead. Beth and I steered our way to the bar where she ordered a drink and I was given my “Be nice to me, I’m the driver” wristband that would keep me in free soft drinks all evening. We hadn’t been at the bar for more than four seconds before two guys came up to us, one on either side of Beth and me.
“Hey there!” the one on my side said in my ear. “I’d buy you a drink but…” He tapped me wristband and grinned, a boyish smile that made him look both incredibly handsome and somewhat dangerous, like this could be the guy who was too perfect to be trusted.
I shook it off. That kind of judgment wasn’t why I’d gotten all dressed up this evening.
“If I get your number, I can buy you that drink next time, though,” he said, giving me a knowing grin. I had to laugh. His pickup move had actually worked.
“Fine,” I said, reaching into my bag to get out my phone and text him my number. Instead, I looked at the screen: four missed calls. Before I could even open the screen to see who they were from, the phone buzzed again with another incoming call: Dad.
“Some guy blowing up your phone while you’re out with your girl? That’s not cool,” the guy near me said, still smiling. “And he makes you call him Daddy?”
I shook my head, frowning. “No, it’s my actual Dad,” I explained before turning to tap Beth on the arm. I held up my phone and gestured to the door, telling her I had to take this. She nodded, then gestured to the bar to tell me she’d wait right here.
I made it out a side door to an open-air patio that was covered with rattan sofas, small tables, and lots of beautiful fire pots. People mingled out here where it was quiet, enjoying the view of the city and their own company.
“Hello?” I said, answering the phone and sounding a little bit irritated. What in the hell could be so important that my dad had to call four—make that five—times now? He knows how to text, especially when he’s pissed at me.
“V?” a man asked, and for a moment my head was reeling. Who was this?
“Yeah?” I said.
“It’s me, Finn.”
I paused for a moment, trying to figure out why Finn’s number would come up under my dad’s name in my phone. No wait, that was stupid. It wouldn’t. So Finn was calling from my dad’s phone?
“What’s going on?” I asked, growing alarmed.
“Your dad… he’s at the hospital,” Finn said slowly. “You need to get up here… now.”
I didn’t say anything for a long time, my mind spinning. My dad. He was sick or hurt or something—and he hadn’t called me? I had to hear it from Finn? That could only mean two things: either he didn’t want to see me and I really was dead to him, or he was so bad off that he couldn’t call me.
“V? You there?” Finn asked.
“Yeah,” I said, recovering. “I’m on my way. Where is he?”
“I’ll text you the name and address of the hospital,” he answered. I could hear the emotion in Finn’s voice—something that was never there before—when he said, “And V? Um… well, I’d hurry if I were you.”
That was all I needed to hear. I made my way back through the crowd until I found Beth in exactly the same spot where I’d left her—bless her faithful little heart—and told her what I knew. Her eyes went wide and she waved to the bartender to cancel her drink order.
“Come on, I’ll drive so you can tell me where to go,” she said, holding her hand out for my keys.
“No Beth, I think I should go by myself,” I said, already wondering what had made me say that. “I don’t know what’s going on up there.”
“Honey, are you sure? I mean, I can drop you at the door and go park the car…”
“No, it’s fine. I’m fine, I mean,” I said, shaking my head. “But I can drop you off on my way home.”
“No, don’t worry about me! I’ll follow you out and get an Uber,” Beth said, pulling me in for a tight hug. “Keep me updated, okay?”
“I will, you… um… be careful going home, okay?” I said, looking around like I was suddenly lost.
“I will. If you change your mind or if you need me to bring you anything, just text me and I’ll be right there,” she said, linking her arm through mine and leading the way through the crowd to the front door.
I made it to the hospital in a daze, focusing intently on the voice in my navigator app to tell me the way. I couldn’t let myself think about what Finn might have meant—“if I were you, I’d hurry.” That sounded bad. Worse than bad.
At the hospital, I had to wade through a maze of faces and questions before I could finally find out where they’d taken my dad. I started with the emergency room, then upstairs to radiology, then finally to the ICU. A nurse at the center station looked up when I stepped off the elevator.
“Hi, I’m looking for Henry Miller. I’m his daughter,” I said, looking around as though I might see him just sitting in a chair somewhere.
“Of course,” the nurse said, standing up and coming around the large, hexagonal desk. “Right this way.”
She led me through a route of open, glass-walled bays that held one bed each. I tried not to look as we passed patient after patient, not just because seeing them like this was so upsetting, but also for their own dignity and privacy.
“Here he is,” the nurse said as we reached my dad’s bay. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re here and she’ll be up in a minute to talk to you about your dad’s condition.”
She left me before I could ask any questions, which was just as well. If she was calling for the doctor to talk to me, she probably wasn’t allowed to tell me too much. I peered inside his bay and saw my dad, his eyes closed, tape covering his mouth where a tube was breathing for him.
“V?” someone said behind me, and I startled. I turned back to see Finn standing in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee.
“What happened?” I whispered, looking back at my dad and just staring at him.
“There’s only supposed to be one person at a time in here, so now that you’re here, I’m gonna leave. That way, you can stay with him,” Finn said. “Just… call if you need anything.”
“Finn, wait,” I said, and he stopped to look back at me. “Tell me what happened.”
“It’s not my place…” he began, but his voice trailed off.
“Well, he certainly isn’t telling me,” I said, pointing to my dad angrily.
Finn ran his free hand through his hair and looked down at his boots. I noticed for the first time that he was wearing old blue jeans and a flannel shirt with dust or dirt on the front.
“Your dad came by to see me this week, to clear the air, I guess,” Finn began, looking uncomfortable.
“So he forgave you, but not me? That’s great,” I said, fuming.
“No, he didn’t forgive me. He just wanted to say hi
s peace, and boy, did he let me have it.”
“That sounds like him,” I said. “But that’s not why he’s here.”
“I was getting to that. V, your dad has lung cancer.” Finn waited for me to process that, giving me space to let those words hang between us for a minute. “He was going to tell you while we were at the lake. He was going to tell both of us.”
I felt everything crumbling around me, and in my field of vision, it looked like everything on the fringes was moving in a downward spiral. I looked back at my dad, processing everything Finn had told me.
“He came by to talk to me, to let me know how angry he was but to make me promise I’d look after you when he...” Finn stopped when his words got choked, and I saw the tears in his eyes when I looked at him.
“So how’d he get here?” I asked, my voice shaking as I started to cry myself.
“I only know an ambulance brought him. They called the last contact he’d used on his phone, that was me when he called to tell me he was coming by to talk to me,” Finn explained. “But like I said, you’re here now, so I’ll get out of your way.”
Finn turned to go back to the elevators near the nurses’ station, and at the last minute, I called out to him.
“Finn? Thanks,” I said, my chin quivering. “Thanks for coming up here for him. And for calling me.”
“You’re welcome, V. Call me if you need anything,” he said, and then he was gone.
What Happens Next?
Don’t wait to find out what’s in store for Finn and Veronica! Get the next book in the series now!
Protect and Serve Series
Off Limits
In Good Hands
Guilty Pleasure
Line of Fire
Ten Four
Follow Me!
Want to stay up to date with me? Follow me to be one of the first to know when I have a new release, contest, giveaways, series sneak peeks, updates and teasers, cover reveals, and so much more! Pick your poison below!
Line of Fire (Protect and Serve Book 4) Page 3