The officer nodded and adjusted his collar. He was gorgeous. Why didn't she recognize him?
He held her gaze, neither speaking.
Shale cleared his throat. "We're back in town for a classmate's funeral."
"Officer Turner." The officer's handsome face clouded over.
Freya nodded. "We were both friends with Chase."
"A good man." He rubbed his facial hair. "I'm speaking at the service. Just need a coffee to get my mind off the speech."
"Nervous?"
He chuckled. "Public speaking. It scares most people more than death."
"Nico," called the barista, holding up a coffee.
The officer smiled. "That's me. I'll see you over there."
Freya nodded. "Definitely." She watched as he turned around and got his coffee.
"Come on," Shale urged. "You can flirt with him later."
"Flirt? You call that flirting?"
Shale rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Let's go before Shelley decides she needs to talk with us again."
Freya shuddered. "Yeah. Let's go." She glanced over her shoulder. Nico.
Two
Nico Valentin sat on the pew, careful to sit tall, despite the temptation to slouch. He had a growing lump in his throat and his heart still raced after giving the speech. Of course he was honored to talk about Chase Turner—he had been one of the best officers on the force. One that Nico could rely on, day or night for anything. And that was why he'd been the one to give his life the other night.
Telling everyone what a fine officer he'd been at the man's funeral was the least he could do. An honor, really. But it didn't do anything for his fear of public speaking. He could talk a man from a ledge, literally. He could face someone shoving the barrel of a gun at him without breaking into a sweat. Keep himself together after losing a friend, even. But talking in front a crowd? That was a different beast, altogether.
Especially with that gorgeous brunette with the killer smile from earlier. He hadn't even caught her name. While at the podium, he tried not to look at her, but his gaze kept wandering her direction. It didn't help that she nodded him on, giving him looks of encouragement. Probably because he'd let his mouth run and had admitted his fear to her.
Nico always did his best to hide anything resembling weakness. The youngest in his force to be hired as Sergeant—one of the few brought in from out of state. They'd been considering two other Detectives from within the county, but with Nico's credentials, he'd gotten the job. For that, he was glad. The competition was fierce back home. He'd have been lucky to rank Sergeant by the age of forty. But now he was thirty and had been in the position for nearly a year.
The rest of the funeral went by in a blur. Nico's breathing had finally returned to normal by the closing prayer. People lined up at the open casket to honor the fallen officer. That, too, was easier than speaking in front of a crowd. The force followed the immediate family. When it was Nico's turn, he paused, looked down at his friend, and saluted.
He turned around, went over to the family, and gave his heart-felt condolences. Turner had been a good man, and it was a shame he'd passed away so young. He was younger than Nico's brother by just a little, and that hit home. He spoke with Turner's father for a few minutes and then wandered around the room.
Nico thanked all the officers for coming. It was expected, of course, but he liked to express appreciation for those under him. He found it boosted the morale of the entire department. It felt more like a team than a battlefield, and that's how it was meant to be. Not like the vicious political scene back home where everyone backstabbed one another in hopes of making the next rank first. He could do without ever being in a cutthroat environment like that again.
The pretty brunette came over to him. She flipped some of her long, thick dark hair behind her shoulders and gave him a mind-numbing smile. Nico smiled back, momentarily at a loss for words. He held out his hand.
She shook it. "That was a moving speech. You brought a tear to my eyes."
He flicked a nod. "Thank you."
"I mean it. I don't know what you were nervous about. You did great."
Nico looked away. "They've got the food ready in the next room. Want to get something?" He should sit with his colleagues, but if she said yes, they would understand.
"Certainly." They headed over to the reception hall. "How long have you been in Enchantment Bay?"
"A couple years. I really like it."
"It beats New York."
They got in line and Nico indicated for her to stand in front of him. "You recognize my accent?"
"Yeah, but that's also where I live."
Disappointment washed through him, but he didn't let his demeanor change. "Oh? You're not here to stay?"
"If they could offer the kind of jobs here that New York does, I'd be here in a heartbeat." She picked up a plate, put on a salad without dressing, and a couple grapes.
"What kind of jobs?" He grabbed a plate and started making a sandwich. He was starving after having not been able to eat before giving the eulogy.
"Modeling."
That wasn't surprising. "I can imagine. The big apple is definitely the place for that type of thing. How long have you been doing that?"
"A few years. My parents were pretty mad at me for dropping out of college, but at least I don't have school loans. All paid off."
"Smart. I know too many people with degrees they can't use and loans they can't pay."
They found a table and sat. "Like my brother. He got married his second year of college—we're both good at upsetting our parents—and he's a firefighter. He finished school, but has so much debt. How do you like being an officer?"
Nico tugged on his collar. Usually, he wore street clothes, but for something official like an officer's funeral, he had to wear the blue uniform. "Sergeant, actually. I love it."
She nodded, having just eaten a grape.
"I like making a difference. There's nothing like the feeling of putting away a bad guy."
"Wow. That makes my job seem so lame."
He laughed. "It's not like that. Besides, people gotta wear clothes. You give them vision, am I right?"
"Sure." She laughed.
Her brother came over. "Mind if I sit here? Some of our old classmates are driving me crazy."
"Shelley again?"
He nodded and set down a suitcase. "Shelley and her friends."
"Have a seat," Nico said. "We're just discussing the merits of modeling."
He arched a brow and then held out his hand. "Shale Hunter."
Nico shook his hand. Shale had a strong grip. "Sergeant Nico Valentin."
"Nice to meet you. I'm going to grab some food. I'm starving." He headed for the food tables.
"He's the firefighter?" Nico asked.
"Yeah. He's moving back to town. I don't suppose you know of any openings?"
"Oh, there are plenty," Nico said. "Most of the fire departments are short staffed. He'd have his pick, especially if he's already trained."
"He's the best."
"And I'm sure you're not biased."
She laughed. "No, not at all. In my eyes, he's perfect."
"So sweet." Nico wished his brother and he got along half as well as those two seemed to. They had barely spoken since Nico had moved to Oregon. Enzo thought he'd gone weak moving to the forest country.
Shale sat next to his sister and dug in without a word.
"You're looking for a fire department?" Nico asked.
He looked up from his plate and nodded. Then he shot his sister an annoyed glance before swallowing.
"If you want a referral, I'd be happy to help," Nico said. "And I can tell you which departments to avoid, and trust me, there are a few you'll want to."
"Thanks. I'll probably be searching soon."
"What's your experience?"
"I was acting Lieutenant. They thought I was too young to be an actual one."
Nico snorted. "I know all about that. Well, if you have Lieutena
nt experience, you'll have your pick of positions." He went onto tell Shale about some of the better departments which had some upper-level openings.
A blonde wearing a dress too short, too tight, and too low-cut for a funeral came over and stood by Shale. "There you are. We were wondering where you'd disappeared to." She waved over a group of similarly-dressed women. "Now, as I was saying—"
Shale's expression clouded over. "I can't do this." He picked up his half-eaten plate with one hand and the luggage with the other. He turned to Nico. "It was nice meeting you. Thanks for the tips." He stormed away, chucking his plate into the nearest garbage can.
The blonde looked at Shale's sister. "Did I do something wrong?"
She glared at him. "He just lost his wife, and you're acting like a stupid sorority girl."
Her mouth dropped open and she stomped away.
"I'm sorry. I need to make sure Shale's okay."
"Of course." Nico nodded.
She hurried out of the room.
"Wait," Nico said, too late. "I didn't even get your name."
He shook his head. She'd been so pretty and sweet—a wonderful, but all too rare combination—that he could hardly think straight around her. He'd introduced himself to all kinds of people, but not the one he wanted to get to know.
Well, with any luck, Shale would call him about a referral and Nico could ask about his sister.
His phone rang. The ring tone told him it was the station.
Nico accepted the call. "Valentin."
There was a dead body near the edge of town.
"Be right over." He scanned the room for his partner, Jackson. He nodded, indicating he was leaving, too.
Nico threw away his food, said goodbye to a few people, and got into his car.
His phone rang, this time the tone indicating a personal call. He put it on speaker and started the engine. "Hello?"
"Nico," came the all-too familiar chipper female voice.
"Morgan." He immediately regretted not checking the caller ID first. "I'm on my way to a crime scene."
"So, you have a minute? You're not there yet?" She practically squealed.
He clenched his teeth. "Technically."
"Good. So, when are you moving back?"
"Never."
"Oh, come on. We have a good thing."
"Had. It's over. Haven't you moved on?"
Morgan sighed dramatically. "Nico, we were high school sweethearts. Everyone still says we're perfect for each other. We'd have the most beautiful babies."
"I gotta go."
"Fine, I'll stop. But seriously, when are you going to leave Hicksville and come back where you belong?"
"Like I've told you a hundred times, I'm happy here. You declined my offer to move out here two years ago."
"Of course. This is my home."
"And this is mine."
"How could you choose a job over me?" she demanded.
"Look, I'm sorry that you're obviously in between boyfriends, but you know how important my work is to me. Since you're not willing to go with me where it takes me, we'll never work."
"You're so impossible! Just move back here. There are plenty of police openings."
"Oh? The Sergeant position opened up?"
"What does it matter which position?"
"This just proves you never listen to me, and you never have. Stop calling me. I'm at my crime scene."
"You don't know what you're missing."
Fortunately, he did. "Goodbye, Morgan."
"Fine. Just to show you how serious I am, I'm going to get some time off and head over there."
Nico's mouth dropped. He hadn't seen that one coming.
"Are you still there?" Morgan asked.
"Y-yeah. Look, you don't have to do that. We both know you won't be happy here. There's no nightlife and I work long hours. Speaking of which, I need to go."
"You know, I'm curious to see your cute little town. See you soon, handsome." The call ended.
He pulled up to the curb and groaned. Hopefully Morgan would meet a new guy before booking a flight.
Outside, other members of the force were gathered in a huddle. Someone was putting up the police tape while another ordered the gawkers back.
Nico hurried out of his car and pushed his way past the crowd, showing his badge. He went over to a couple of his detectives. "What's the status?"
"Looks like another drug deal gone bad."
"Not surprising." Nico stepped closer to the body. A bullet wound in the chest. Part of a tattoo showing on the victim's neck. "Has someone taken the pictures yet?"
"He just left."
"Let's get the body moved and start asking questions. We've got to find out who has been doing this."
"We don't have much to go on."
"Then we have our work cut out for us. But we have a lot of people watching us." Nico glanced over at all the onlookers behind the yellow tape. "Our killer is probably one of them with a crowd like that."
"They do often like to return to the scene of the crime."
"Let's find him this time."
Three
Freya put her hand on Shale's shoulder and glanced around the foyer. "I'll stop by Mom and Dad's to check on you after I leave the reception, okay?"
He shook his head. "I don't need—"
"I want to see them, anyway. If you're there, I'll say hi."
"Probably be sleeping."
"Okay. Just take it easy. Are you going to be all right?" Her heart ached seeing him in so much pain.
"Don't look at me like that. I'll be fine."
Freya frowned. "I hope so."
"I'm sure it'll do me good to be back here. As long as people like Shelley keep their distance."
"Call me—anytime."
"Thanks, Freya."
"I mean it."
"I know." He turned around, but then paused. "How are you going to get around?"
Freya shrugged. "I'll find someone to give me a ride to Mom and Dad's. How are you getting around?"
"My truck's being brought over along with all my other stuff. Until then, I'll travel by cab."
They waved a quick goodbye as Shale called for a taxi.
Freya went back into the reception hall, lugging her suitcase. At least she'd packed light.
She scanned the room for Nico, but didn't see him.
"Hey, look who's in town," came a familiar female voice on her left.
Freya turned to see Olivia, one of her old high school friends. "Had to pay my respects to Chase. He tutored me and kept me from failing several classes."
"Yeah, me, too. So, how have you been? Still modeling?"
She told Olivia about fashion shows, while glancing over the room, but it appeared Nico had taken off. Olivia asked her several questions and then talked about her job as a journalist. "It kind of sucks in some ways. Like when I'm told to get a story, and people act like I'm a vulture. Ordering me away. Threatening to call the cops. All when I'm doing everything legally. Makes me think that covering fashion might be more my thing."
Freya's eyes lit up. "Oh, you should look into that. You'd get to go to the shows and shoots. Designers and models love being interviewed."
Olivia twisted some of her dark hair around her finger, appearing deep in thought. "You know, you could be right. It would be a lot more fun than having to show up at bloody car scenes."
Freya shuddered. "You have do that?"
Olivia frowned. "It's part of the job."
"Then you definitely need to look into writing fashion stories. I can be your first interview." Freya winked.
"Tell me more. Please. If I'm going to do this, I have to know everything about the industry."
"How about I do that while you give me a ride to my parents' house?"
Olivia smiled wide. "Deal."
By the time they made it to Freya's parents' house, Olivia's eyes were practically shining. "For the first time in a really long time, I'm actually excited about going to work."
"Th
ere's plenty more I can tell you. We've barely scratched the surface."
"Can we get together for lunch on Monday?"
"I'll be headed back for New York then. Let me give you my number and we can chat. I'll probably be waiting for my plane then."
"Perfect."
They exchanged numbers and Freya climbed out of the car with her suitcase. "Talk to you soon."
"It was good to see you, Freya."
She went up the walkway and dug her old house key from her purse. Inside, she barely made it two feet before she was swallowed up by hugs. Freya dropped her luggage and hugged her parents back. "I love you guys, but I need some air."
They stepped back and looked at her.
"I believe you've gotten prettier," Dad said.
"Certainly more sophisticated," Mom said. "I hope you plan on staying a while, even though Enchantment Bay isn't nearly as interesting."
Freya thought back to Shelley and a few guys who had hit on her at the reception. "It's really not all that much different. People are people."
"If that's the case, maybe we can talk you into moving back to town." Her dad winked.
"I'm sure someday. It's hard being away from you guys. The whole family, really."
"You're staying with Dakota, right?" asked Mom.
Freya nodded. "Mind if we sit? The jet lag is hitting me."
"Are you hungry?" Mom asked. "Let me get you something to drink. Still love Shirley Temples?"
"Sure." She hadn't had one since the last time Mom had made her one.
"Do you want me to warm you up some casserole? I made a tasty chicken one last night."
"Sounds great. Thanks." Freya settled into her old spot at the large family dinner table. It seemed especially big with five kids all moved out. "Is Shale already laying down?"
Freya's parents exchanged a confused glance. Then her dad turned to her. "I thought he was still at the memorial service."
"My mistake." Freya forced a grin. "I must have left before him. Like I said, jet lag."
Her mom pulled out the soda and flavoring for the drink. "Gary, can you put some casserole on a plate for Freya?"
"Sure, Judy." He opened the fridge and dug around. "So, Freya, tell us about your recent modeling jobs. What big-name designer was honored to have you in their clothes last?"
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