Officer in Pursuit

by Ranae Rose

  “I won’t.”

  “I’ll stay on the phone with you if you want to go see who it is.”

  “I—” She what? She didn’t want to go to the door, even to look. But… “My closest neighbor is pushing 80. His wife passed away last year. Something might be wrong – I’d better check, just in case it’s him.”

  If she didn’t see who was knocking, she’d never stop wondering, would be left to imagine the worst.

  “I’ll stay on the line.”

  She didn’t argue, was incapable of pretending to be tough and turning him down. The sound of his voice was a comfort, and gave her the courage to unlock her bedroom door and make her way across the living room. It was a small space, but crossing it took forever.

  When she reached the door, she hesitated. Reaching out to actually touch it felt like sticking her foot out over the edge of her mattress had when she’d been young: like she was putting herself at risk. Like something might reach out of the darkness and grab her.

  Of course, nothing did. And when she rocked up onto her tiptoes, straining to get at eye level with the peep hole, the sight on the other side was anything but scary.

  “It’s Jeremy!”

  “Jeremy?”

  “Yes. He’s in uniform, and his squad car is in my driveway.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “Yeah. I’d better see what he wants. Thank you for staying on the phone with me.”

  “Any time. Let me know what Jeremy says.”

  “Okay. See you Sunday.”

  She had trouble turning the doorknob, thanks to her sweaty palms. Eventually she got it though, and opened the door to face the only officer of the Riley County Sheriff’s Department she knew on a first name basis. She was so relieved to see a familiar, benevolent face that she could’ve hugged him.

  “Kerry.” He flashed her a tight smile, meeting her eyes before his gaze darted beyond her, into her house. “Everything all right? Dispatcher got a 911 call from this address.”

  Instantly, her cheeks were on fire. “Everything’s fine. I accidentally dialed 911, like an idiot. I thought I explained to the dispatcher. Sorry.”

  “The dispatcher said she could hardly keep you on the phone for five seconds. Said you sounded distressed. Thought somebody had better stop by and check in, just in case.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to have wasted your time. I hope you’re having a slow night – I feel bad.”

  He shrugged. “Matter of fact, it has been a slow night. Just like it should be.” He flashed her a grin – an expression she’d seldom seen on his face. “I reckon things are back to normal around here and I can go back to meddling in people’s domestic disputes and tracking down kids who don’t get home by curfew.”

  “After this summer, that must be a relief.”

  “You’re telling me. I booked so much overtime I’m expecting the Guinness Book of World Records to come knocking on my door any day now.”

  “Since you’re not too busy, can I get you something to drink – water or coffee?”

  “I appreciate it, but my daughter got me one of those giant travel mugs last Christmas. It was supposed to be a joke, but I’ve been using it ever since. Got half a pot of coffee out in the cruiser.”

  “Okay. Sorry again about the false alarm.”

  “We’ve had a lot of those over the past few months. People around here are still feeling cautious, and that’s a good thing. I’m just glad everything’s all right.”

  Kerry relocked the door and retreated to the window, where she watched the cruiser’s taillights until they were nothing more than ruby red pinpricks at the end of the road. She turned away before they could disappear.

  Cautious. That was one way to put it. Afraid was another way, but Kerry couldn’t blame other people for feeling that way. She could, however, blame herself.

  She was supposed to be stronger than this. It was what she’d been working all these years for. She wasn’t supposed to be living in fear anymore. Problem was, she didn’t know how to stop.

  She felt better now that she’d spoken to Jeremy, though – the presence of another human being had put her fears into perspective. Everything was fine. The problem was with her, not with this night or this town, or even the anonymous car that had turned around in her driveway.

  She pulled out her phone to text Grey, like she’d said she would. As she brought up their message history, she realized that she’d never clarified whether or not their breakfast on Sunday morning would be just the two of them.

  A part of her hoped it would be. The rest of her was still tingling with the pins and needles her adrenaline rush had left behind. Still, beyond the haze of useless energy, she could feel the beginnings of regret. Even if she had breakfast alone with Grey at the Sea Glass Café, it would be a farce, a borrowed hour from someone else’s life. There would never be anything substantial between them, only pointless fantasies and borrowed time.

  The hard reality of that fact left her feeling profoundly alone – which she was. Alone with her secrets, her fragile sense of safety. Deep down, she always would be.

  CHAPTER 2

  Grey dunked a sugar cookie shark into his coffee, plunging it in to the dorsal fin. The royal icing sent an oily sheen spiraling over the coffee’s surface, a dark brew so black it was like liquid, starless night. When he popped the shark’s soggy head into his mouth, he was in heaven.

  He had no idea what they put in these cookies. Something illegal, maybe. He didn’t care. They were obscenely good, even with the weird sharky grey icing. They were also only a dollar fifty a piece, so he’d bought three. One for him. One for Kerry. And another one for him he planned to finish eating before she arrived.

  She caught him in the act. He still held the tail between his fingers when she walked in, looking like a tiny, trim goddess in a navy blue dress and a sunhat.

  Like him, she was in her late twenties – the only woman that age he knew who actually wore sunhats. Somehow, she looked good in it. When she took it off and turned in his direction, she looked even better.

  She smiled a little as she approached him, her skirt swinging around her knees. Her dresses always seemed a little longer than most. Maybe they fit her like that because she was so petite, or maybe she just liked them that way. He wasn’t sure. She always dressed modestly, but conservative clothing couldn’t hide her amazing figure.

  Her limbs were slim and tight with lean muscle. She looked like she could star in one of those exercise videos, the yoga kind where she’d have to wear stretchy leggings and demonstrate a bunch of bendy poses. It was fun to imagine.

  “Hi Grey.” She slid into the booth, across from him.

  “Morning. I got you a coffee and a cookie to start off with. Hope that’s okay.”

  “Sure.” She looked down at the plate beside her mug of steaming coffee. “I don’t usually eat stuff like this… Are they good?”

  “You’ve never had one? And you’ve lived here for how many years?”

  “Three. And no, I haven’t.”

  “What I have to say won’t do it justice. The shark has to speak for itself – go ahead, try it.”

  Her cookie shed a few crumbs as she lifted it, looking at it like it was a real fish instead of a gift from the bakery gods. “Okay.”

  “Hold on.” He nearly reached out to stop her as she lifted it to her perfect, pale pink lips. “It would be wrong of me not to inform you that you have to dip it in your coffee first. Just trust me.”

  She did it, then bit off the end of the shark’s nose.

  “It’s pretty good,” she admitted a few moments later. “Better than I thought it would be.”

  “Just ‘pretty good’? Not the best damn shark cookie you’ve ever had?”

  Her lips quirked, hinting at a smile. “It’s the only shark cookie I’ve ever had. So yeah, you could say that. I was expecting it to be all dry and hard, like a Christmas cookie a week after the holidays have passed.”

  “Oh ye of little faith.�
�� He picked up his second cookie.

  “So, are we expecting anyone else, or is it just you and me?”

  He dropped his cookie into his coffee and barely managed to fish it out before it got hopelessly soggy. “It’s just you and me. I thought you knew.”

  Damn. He’d thought he’d finally wrangled her into a date of sorts. He was an idiot.

  “I thought it might be just the two of us, but I wasn’t sure. I guess I was a little distracted when I spoke to you last.”

  “Right.” He searched her eyes for any signs of why she’d sounded so weird on the phone the other day. Her irises were almost as dark as her black coffee, incredibly hard to read. With those eyes, she could’ve kept a thousand secrets from him.

  Sometimes, he got the sense that she was.

  A few borderline-endless seconds crept by, and then a waitress descended on them with a note pad. “What can I get for you two? Or do you need a few more minutes to make up your minds?”

  They ordered right away – scrambled eggs and steak tips for Grey, and an omelet with tomatoes and mushrooms, plus fresh fruit on the side, for Kerry.

  “So you uh, like to eat healthy and stuff?” It was a damned good thing she hadn’t expected this to be a real date, because his powers of seduction were rusty. Of course, they’d gotten that way over the summer – a summer he’d spent lusting after her, waiting for a chance to make a move that didn’t involve their mutual friends.

  She nodded, took a long sip of sugarless, cream-free coffee. Most other women Grey knew liked it sweet.

  “I can tell that you work out,” he said. Actually, it was one of the first things he’d ever noticed about her. Her figure was slight and spare, but she was toned … everywhere. Everywhere that he could see, anyway. He had no doubt that the rest of her looked great too.

  “Thanks.” She didn’t seem offended by his comment. Thank God. “I do yoga. And Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. I lift weights a little too, but I’m not a big fan of gyms. Mostly it’s the yoga and jiu-jitsu classes that keep me in shape.”

  “Jiu-jitsu – really?” He never would’ve guessed. He knew vaguely that Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu meant fighting on the ground. It was hard to imagine Kerry rolling around in combat with anyone.

  “Yeah. I just started a year ago, actually. It’s fun. They have an all-women class I go to on Thursdays, and I try to attend at least one other day a week too.”

  “Huh.” Actually, he could imagine her rolling around on mats with other women. He just wasn’t sure if it’d be smart to let his mind wander in that direction.

  “What about you – you obviously work out too.”

  He tried to look casual, like what she’d just said hadn’t sent a little extra blood rushing below his belt. He knew it was obvious that he lifted, but it was still the first time she’d ever paid him a compliment.

  “I have a home gym. A garage gym, actually. I lift.” Six days a week – it was a habit he’d established in his teens. A decade later, he’d gained some pretty serious results.

  “It must be nice to work out at home. I have a yoga mat, of course … but I can’t do jiu-jitsu in my living room. Even if I had the space, who would I roll with?”

  He bit his tongue in order to keep from volunteering. “Yeah. It’s nice. If you ever want to use my equipment, you’re welcome to it.”

  She met his eyes and he could see a glimmer there. A glimmer that made him rethink what he’d just said.

  “I mean…” Hell, he wanted her to use his equipment, all right. He wasn’t about to take it back – he’d just clarify a little, so he didn’t seem like a perv. “Feel free to swing by sometime if you want to lift.”

  “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  There was a mildly awkward silence that went uninterrupted. In a movie, a waitress would’ve swooped in and saved the day by delivering their food. Instead, Grey ate the rest of his cookie and thought way too long and hard about what to say next.

  It wasn’t something he usually did. But he wanted to say the right things – wanted to make Kerry comfortable. Happy. She’d caught his eye for obvious reasons the day he’d first met her, but his attraction had deepened over the past few months. Every minute he spent in her presence multiplied his desire exponentially.

  Kerry was smart, disciplined and liked things he liked too, like fitness. She didn’t play games and didn’t seem overly-concerned with what other people thought. She was just herself, and she was easy to like.

  Up until the fire – the culmination of a horror movie-style summer – he’d only spent time with her with their friends around. That day, he’d driven her to her house, had held her hand. When he’d left for his own home, his palms had been stained black, had left ash smudges on the steering wheel that’d lingered for days.

  It’d been different, being with her then – she hadn’t bothered to choose her words, her actions. She’d seemed glad to have him there. Now…

  She was the same Kerry he’d always known, the woman he’d become familiar with while Liam, Henry, Alicia and Sasha were around. It wasn’t like he wanted to see her covered in ash, tear trails carving through the dark dust. But he wondered what it would be like if she wasn’t so self-contained now. If she was willing to let him into her world when it wasn’t in shambles.

  Before he could think of anything brilliant to say, the waitress appeared.

  The smell of food snapped him out of his overworked thoughts. He wanted Kerry, more than he wanted anything… But at the moment, he’d settle for breakfast.

  Afterward, though, he was determined to make this day one they’d remember – for once, not because anything had fallen apart, or nearly been torn away from them. But because things had changed, in a good way. Things might not be as easy for him as they had been for Liam and Grey, but that was all right. He didn’t expect winning over Kerry to be easy.

  But he did expect it to be worth it.

  * * * * *

  It was well past dawn, but Sunrise Beach was beautiful anyway. The late morning was cloudless and bright, full of sunlight that made the water gleam silver and the sand shimmer. It was pushing 80 already and it felt like a summer day in every sense except for that of the crowd – or lack thereof.

  The tourists that flooded Riley County annually had left with the previous season, and the arrival of fall had brought a marked decline in beachgoers. Lying stretched on a large blanket, Kerry finally felt like she could breathe.

  It wasn’t that she disliked tourists, or didn’t appreciate the fact that if it wasn’t for them, she wouldn’t have a job. But crowds were a blessing and a curse at the same time. On one hand, they offered something to blend into – a risky sort of sanctuary – but on the other, they could harbor anything. Anyone.

  Out here on the modestly peopled beach, she could keep an eye on everyone. Take note of any newcomers. Relax a little, not having to worry that someone from her past might step out of the crowd and bring her carefully-constructed world crashing down around her.

  “Hey Kerry.” Alicia stood, shaking her dark hair out of her face and pushing a pair of large sunglasses up onto the bridge of her nose. “I’m getting hot. Want to go for a swim?”

  “Sure.” Kerry’s dark blue tankini was absorbing the sun’s heat, making her sweat. The water looked inviting – perfect.

  “What about you, Sasha?” Alicia turned to their other friend, though the question was obviously more one of courtesy than a serious invitation.

  Predictably, Sasha shook her head. “I might do some wading in a little bit, but you know I’m not much of a swimmer.”

  Sasha always seemed to prefer the sun and the sand. Whenever anyone asked her why, she just said she liked it hot and laughed. Looking glamourous in her high-waisted, curve-showcasing red bikini, she reclined on a towel, not a single drop of sweat visible on her face.

  Henry seemed content to watch her show off – he stayed by her side, said he might get in later. One of his hands was closed around one of Sasha’s, and the diamon
d-studded curve of her engagement ring glittered from between their entwined fingers. Kerry’s gaze lingered on their hands, and she felt a pang of something.

  Several somethings, actually: happiness for her friends and a stab of wistfulness for herself – one that delved deep into memory, hitting her where it hurt, and polluted her feelings with an old sense of bitterness, edged with fear.

  It shouldn’t hurt to see a diamond shining on her best friend’s hand, but it did. Hurt because as wonderful as it was, it was also a reminder of her own foolish mistakes, of what she’d never have.

  She didn’t want to think about those things. She’d come to the North Carolina coast to get away from them. And so she pushed those feelings away – hard – as she strolled toward the water. When she walked into the waves, the cool water rushed around her, and she pretended to let it wash her past away.

  The imaginary baptism made her feel lighter – or maybe that was just the buoying effect of the seawater. She went deeper, let her feet rise above the sandy bottom. Floating, with saltwater weighing down her hair, she felt oddly free.

  “Watch out!” Alicia’s voice rose high and sharp above the waves, but it was too late – a spray of speeding water hit the side of Kerry’s face.

  “Aghgh!” She choked on the water that’d made it into her mouth, bobbed under briefly as she tried to blink the salt out of her eyes. When she came up again, she was staring straight at Grey.

  He looked horrified, except for the telltale twitch around one corner of his mouth. “Sorry! I was trying to hit Liam!” He jabbed a finger in his friend’s direction. “He ducked at the last second.”

  Liam looked vaguely guilty for a moment, then he raised a hand and hit the water, sending it arcing toward Grey.

  It was a devastatingly accurate splash. It hit Grey in the face and soaked his short, dark hair, making him stumble backward, swearing.

  “Consider yourself avenged, Kerry,” Liam said.