As he pulled up to the accident scene and turned off the siren, Matt once again glanced at the time and hit the button for the radio. “16Bravo4.”
“16Bravo4,” the dispatcher echoed.
“I’m at the scene now. Two cars blocking the intersection, I see people arguing and exchanging information. I’ll investigate and advise.”
Matt breathed a sigh of relief when he discovered that two of the three vehicles involved were equipped with airbags, and the third car, which wasn’t, sustained only minor damage. No ambulance had been called, and he didn’t need to call one. This type of MVA, he didn’t mind attending.
By the time he finished taking the statements, the other member arrived, which allowed them to direct traffic around the accident. After the tow truck arrived and the debris was cleared, it was time to quit for the day.
“16Bravo4. I’m out of service and on the way in. ETA twenty minutes.”
“16Bravo4 copy,” the dispatcher’s voice echoed back.
After a trip to the works yard to fill up the gas tank, Matt headed for the station. On his way into the building, he waved at a few of the other members from different zones as they were on their way out to the cars. For the next twelve hours, someone else would be 16Bravo4.
He stopped to chat with Ty for a few minutes, then continued on into the general duty area to one of the workstations to finish a few reports that he hadn’t completed on the road. Since one of them was needed for a bail hearing the next day, he had to take a little longer than usual, making sure he had all the details accurate. He didn’t want some cranky Crown Counselor throwing out his Prosecutors Informant Report as evidence because his handwriting was too sloppy. Or worse, he didn’t want to be called at home to come back to redo it because he’d not worded himself clearly.
When all was done, he meandered into the locker room to change. He took the clip out of his gun and stored it in the top drawer, locked it, and slid his revolver into the second drawer, and locked it as well. After he was back in his civvies, he stowed his belt and accessories, then held up his uniform for inspection. Unfortunately, he’d picked up some mud at the last MVA, requiring a trip to the dry cleaners.
He closed his locker and set the lock, and, finally, Matt was on his way home.
The first thing he did when he stepped in the door of his townhouse was check his answering machine. The flashing red light showed two calls. He waited impatiently through the first message, which was from the worship leader asking to schedule a date when he could play guitar for a solo, then suggesting a number of possibilities. Matt held his breath while he waited for the machine to start on the second call. Part of him hoped it was Sarah, yet at the same time, he dreaded the possibility. If she called, the only reason would be that something bad had happened.
Instead of Sarah’s sweet, melodic voice, all he heard was a click, followed by dial tone.
As Matt sighed, the deep intake of breath was all it took to induce a massive yawn. Being alone, he didn’t bother to stifle it or cover his mouth. He hit the rewind button, picked up the remote, and turned on the television. He knew he’d missed the news, but having the television on would be background noise while he wound down to get ready for bed. The second day shift was always better than the first. Even though he had to get up at 5:30 a.m. to be at the station for the 6:30 debriefing, he was so tired, he knew that once his head hit the pillow, he’d sleep like a log.
Tomorrow would be another day. For this rotation, his first night shift was Friday night. It bugged him when he didn’t have time to take breaks on Friday night shifts, but this time, he didn’t care. Sarah didn’t work Friday nights, so if he didn’t make it to the donut shop, it was no big deal.
❧
Every time the glass door opened, Sarah struggled not to look like she was checking to see who had just entered. Of course, she knew she wouldn’t see Matt. It was a new week and a new rotation. Matt would be in bed sleeping, having finished his first day shift. A couple of officers had come in earlier, this time a man and a woman. Sarah always liked the police to come in, because, except for the Ronsky clan, their presence usually kept the riffraff out. Over the past year since she’d started working at the donut shop, she’d probably met every single member of the local RCMP detachment.
After the two officers left, Donnie’s cell phone beeped its unique song.
Sarah’s stomach lurched. While not every call Donnie got on his cell phone would be ominous, she’d already seen that when it rang minutes after the police left, it usually meant only one thing, especially in the middle of the night.
Donnie unclipped the phone from his belt and hit the button. He checked his watch, nodded, and said only the word “yes.” He disappeared into his office with the phone still next to his ear and closed the door. Five minutes later, he reappeared, but he didn’t go into the kitchen or take over at the front counter to give Kristie or herself a break. Instead, Donnie began fiddling with the latté machine, which Sarah knew was recently filled because she’d done it herself less than an hour ago.
Not even five minutes passed before the door opened, and the man named Blair walked in. Sarah made a mental note that the time was 3:48 a.m. Because Matt needed a description of this man, Sarah quickly looked into his face. While counting to five, so she wouldn’t be caught looking too long, she tried to memorize everything she could about him before she turned around.
Trying to appear discreet, Sarah dropped a napkin and some crumbs onto the floor. She turned around and forced herself to walk slowly to the closet. Since Kristie was busy at the counter trying to help the Ronsky clan decide what variety of chocolate donuts they wanted, Sarah was able to slip into the closet without being seen. Without turning on the light, she shut the door quietly behind her.
In an instant, she dropped to her knees and crawled as close as she could to the vent.
Donnie was sitting at his desk. He punched some numbers into his calculator, then turned it so Blair, who was standing in front of him, could see the total. When Donnie spoke, his voice was so hushed Sarah had to strain to hear. “This is what I’m expecting from this batch.”
Blair hit a few numbers and turned the calculator back to Donnie. “Less your purchase, of course.”
“Of course.”
“How much time do you need? I told Lennie a week.”
“A week is fine. Can I count this?”
“Count it if you want. I’ve got all the time in the world.”
“I’ll just make a quick check while you’re here.” As Donnie reached into the open briefcase, Sarah’s heart stopped, then started up in double time. Finally, she would learn the answer to the mystery of the contents, so valuable the briefcase was locked into the safe every time it appeared.
Donnie lifted out a small bundle. He flipped through it, nodded, and laid it on the desk. “Everything appears to be in order.”
Sarah held her breath.
Money. And lots of it. She could see from the colors that the denominations were high.
She didn’t need to hear the rest of the conversation. She shuffled backward instead of rising to her feet in order to make the least amount of noise. When she came to the door, she rose, grabbed the broom and dustpan, wrapped her hand around the doorknob and froze.
If either Blair or Donnie saw her with the broom, they would know she had been in the closet.
She didn’t know if Donnie knew his office was so accessible from the closet, but she couldn’t take the chance.
Sarah tucked the broom and dustpan back into place, opened the door a crack, and peeked out. Not seeing Kristie, she slipped out and gently pressed the door closed behind her.
The urge to run back into the restaurant area was so strong she had to force herself to walk in a leisurely pace. Kristie was still not so patiently serving one of the Ronskys, so Sarah avoided making eye contact while she opened the gate between the counter and the restaurant. As quickly as she could without running, Sarah returned to the table she�
��d been cleaning when Blair walked in and resumed her chore.
She purposely kept her back to the door of Donnie’s office, but the click of the lock and the whoosh of the door opening gonged like a cymbal in her head. In order to keep her back turned, she returned the plates to the table and crouched down to pick up the napkin she’d dropped earlier. When she heard the main door open and close again, she scooped everything up, kicked the crumbs under the table, and returned to the kitchen.
She noticed that Donnie’s door was again closed.
Matt’s words about Donnie usually leaving his door ajar a few inches echoed in her head.
She knew why the door was closed. She didn’t even doubt that the door was locked.
The king was in his counting house, counting all his money.
Sarah shook her head. She’d never been so scared in her life, and she was about to start reciting nursery rhymes.
She had no idea of the amount of money involved, but she’d heard the sound of the one full briefcase as it landed on the desk. The dull thud confirmed that it was close to full, meaning the amount of money it contained would likely be staggering.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she checked her watch. She had to phone Matt. He told her to wake him up if something happened. However, this was not a call she could make on the company phone. Either Kristie or Donnie could pick up the line at any time and hear her conversation. She couldn’t take the risk.
She thought of borrowing Kristie’s cell phone, but she didn’t know where in the small building she could go to make a private call. Even if she went into the staff room and closed the door, she couldn’t be assured no one would walk in or overhear. Besides, it was too odd for her to be making a phone call in the middle of the night. She’d never made a personal call on company time. No one she knew was awake at such hours. She couldn’t make a personal call without raising Donnie’s interest.
Fortunately, the morning rush was starting, which gave Sarah something else to think about. Still, the problem never left her mind as she tried to sort it out enough to tell Matt.
At the end of her shift, Sarah usually went straight to the university for her first class. Today, she made a detour into the police station. By this time, Matt had started his shift and would be out on the road. Even so, she thought he’d get the message sooner than if she left a message on his answering machine at home.
She barely made it to the university in time to find a parking spot and run into her class before the bell rang.
All morning she was distracted and struggled to concentrate on the learning curves for different ages, instead of trying to calculate how much money could possibly have been in the briefcase.
She’d worked herself into a tizzy by the time she arrived at her apartment. She didn’t know what she was going to do until after 7:00 p.m., the end of Matt’s shift. The only thing she did know was that she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Sleep was hard enough on a normal day when the world and all her neighbors were busy and living their lives. She usually went to bed mid-afternoon in order to get enough sleep to last her through the night shift, although it was harder to sleep some days than others.
She had made herself a pot of tea and just settled down at the table when the buzzer for the downstairs’ door sounded.
Sarah’s heart caught in her throat. Everyone she knew except Gwen was at work. Gwen would never come over without phoning first, especially at this hour. Gwen respected that Sarah would normally be starting to get ready for bed even though it was the middle of the day. Besides, Gwen had her baby to take care of. Therefore it wouldn’t be Gwen.
She wasn’t expecting a delivery.
She wasn’t expecting anyone or anything.
A sinking feeling of dread flowed though Sarah, making her knees weak. If Donnie knew that she’d seen something, he wouldn’t confront her at the donut shop in front of Kristie. He would talk to her when no one was watching. He could easily get her address from her personnel file.
Sarah’s stomach stared to roll. Donnie had a gun. She’d seen it. Very possibly, if Donnie were here, he’d have the gun in his pocket. . .
The buzzer sounded again.
Instead of picking up the phone, Sarah ran through the living room and onto her balcony. She peered down from the safety of the sixth floor, looking to see if Donnie’s car was in the visitor parking. If she saw his car, she could run down the stairs and out the back door.
The visitor parking spaces were empty.
But there was a police car parked in front of the building, in the no-parking zone.
Eight
Matt pushed the buzzer for Sarah’s apartment a third time then checked his watch. He had hoped to arrive early enough that she wouldn’t already be sleeping, but apparently, he’d been wrong. Still, even knowing she was sleeping, he didn’t have a choice. The only reason she would have left a message at the station for him to call would be because she’d seen something she considered important, even urgent.
The second he got her message, he’d sent a question out on the radio to ask what the word was on Kincaid and his current dealings. He’d received many private answers on the computer, plus he’d brought the topic up at a recent debriefing. He didn’t like the answer.
Not only was Kincaid out of jail, he was definitely back in active “duty” on the streets. Only this time, he’d gotten smarter. Short of a twenty-four-hour surveillance, they couldn’t determine exactly what he was doing or with whom he was dealing. They only knew that Blair Kincaid was up to no good because suddenly he had money and, as usual, no job to go with it.
Finally, Sarah’s voice blared through the speaker. “Matt! Come right up!” The buzzer sounded.
He opened his mouth, almost saying his usual “16Bravo4 copy” but he caught himself. He smiled and pulled the door open.
As he walked through the lobby to the elevator, a man and a woman appeared from the hallway. Their eyes widened, and they slowed their pace to watch Matt as he continued walking toward the elevator. Knowing they were watching, Matt reached up to touch the brim of his hat and gave them a smile and a brief nod. They gave him a nervous smile in return, then walked faster until they were behind Matt, and he couldn’t see them anymore.
Matt pushed the button for the elevator and waited, not turning around while the couple exited the building.
He’d been an RCMP member for eight years. After all that time he should have been used to people staring at him, but sometimes it still bothered him. He knew he was intruding on those people’s homes by being in their apartment block, but he wasn’t the bad guy. He was an officer of the law. It was his job to help people. He told himself the reason these people were staring was because, in their minds, seeing him inside their building could only mean that something was wrong.
In a way, they were right. Something was wrong. Blair Kincaid was back on the streets. Maybe not in their neighborhood, but he was definitely back. The key to getting him off the streets and back into jail, unfortunately, lay with Sarah.
Once inside the elevator, Matt watched the lights above the door change as he ascended to the sixth floor. As the door opened, Sarah became visible inch by inch. He had barely taken his first step out of the elevator, when she launched herself at him. Instinctively, his hand wrapped around the handle of his gun while Sarah’s arms wrapped around him.
“Matt! I’m so glad you’re here! I’m so scared!”
Matt didn’t move as the elevator door swooshed closed behind him. Very slowly, he relaxed his grip on the gun. Even more slowly, he moved his hands to Sarah’s back. Instead of relaxing once his arms were around her, she tightened her grip on him.
He couldn’t help himself. Even though he was on duty, and even though Sarah was a potential witness and informant, he moved his arms, shuffled his feet, and embraced her fully.
She fit just right in his arms, and it felt good to hold her. She was soft and warm, and the steadfastness of her grip around his back told him that she needed him.
It had been a long time since he felt needed by any one peson in particular. The force needed him, but he was just one of many uniforms following the strict code of law enforcement rules to preserve right versus wrong and help the good guy win once in a while.
But Sarah didn’t want just any officer. She wanted him. She could have told her story to anyone at the station; he’d even told her to do so if the shift work made seeing him difficult when something finally broke. Instead, she’d left the message only for him.
He had to admit that in the short time since they’d started talking he’d become quite fond of her. When they had parted in the parking lot of the restaurant after church on Sunday, he’d wanted to do exactly what he was doing right now, which was to hold her in his arms and not let go.
Matt squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to kiss her, but he couldn’t. For this moment, he was in uniform, on duty. He was to be Sarah’s protector, and nothing else.
In his early days as a cop, he had struggled with the power of the uniform. He was not unique. Just being a cop gave him the authority to make people obey whatever he said, whether he had earned the respect deserving of the uniform or not. In the locker room, the allure of the uniform to women in general was a hot topic of conversation, especially among the newer members of the force, unless, of course, those women were other officers.
But Sarah had been with him out of uniform, and as far as he could tell, she liked him anyway. Now that he was back in uniform and on duty, he was supposed to keep an impersonal distance. He certainly shouldn’t have been holding a witness, but he couldn’t help it.
Matt lowered his head and brushed his cheek against the hair on top of her head. In the back of his mind, he logged that since he was wearing his boots, and she was only in her socks, there was a greater height difference than normal. It made her feel smaller than she really was, which only magnified the feeling of protectiveness he felt toward her.
Donut A Day Page 6