by Connie Dial
A few of the addicts were still hanging around the lot, and Josie saw a lone uniformed officer talking to two of them as she passed it. A couple more sleazy-looking men were standing close by. She drove around the block, planning to back him up just in case he needed assistance. As she parked her car, she noticed he had a sergeant’s rocker on his sleeve. She left her jacket in the car so the badge on her belt could be seen. He turned and nodded to let Josie know he saw her.
“Morning, Captain,” Sergeant Richards said, facing his suspect again.
“Poaching in my orchard again?” Josie said, surprised at how pleased she was to see him.
“Not really,” he said, finishing his field interview and warning the men they couldn’t loiter in the empty lot. “I’m a legal resident of your division as of this morning.”
It was a new deployment period and Sergeant Richards explained he had transferred into Hollywood.
“That’s great,” Josie said and meant it.
“You look really tired, but those cuts have healed nicely,” he said, getting close enough for her to smell his aftershave and added with that broad, handsome smile, “I can’t even see them. Is anybody waiting for you to get home or can I buy you breakfast?”
JOSIE HESITATED; home was pretty deserted and lonely these days. She was hungry for more than food and would’ve enjoyed his company, but she said, “I’m too tired to eat. Maybe, we can do it another time.”
He looked disappointed as they chatted a few more minutes before he left to answer a radio call.
She watched him drive away and wondered what made her say no to a whole new world of possibilities. As far as she could tell he was a good person, dedicated, forthright, brave . . . everything she admired in a man.
Thoughts of her family drifting aimlessly away from a life none of them seemed to want any longer were always on her mind, but Josie had a twenty-year commitment to two people she loved and wasn’t willing to abandon. Lately, David had been a pain in the ass and Jake kept finding new ways to make her crazy, but there was no denying they were irretrievably connected.
SHE DROVE onto her street and pulled to the curb in front of the house. She sat in the car with the engine running and couldn’t help smiling. The Porsche, covered in dew, was parked in the driveway.