Sam said nothing. She merely shifted her gaze at Halie.
"Sam, I love you."
"I love you too. Don't worry, I'll be careful." She reached for the top drawer of the nightstand, opened it, and pulled out the handgun she'd tucked away deep in the back, the one she kept for safety reasons, never expecting to have to use in her own home.
She and Jake headed down the stairs. When they reached the bottom step, Jake ran over to the living room window, barked once, then glanced in Sam's direction. Sam held her gun in her left hand. With her back to the wall, she fumbled for the living room light switch. When she found it, she flicked the lights on. She was surprised by what she saw. One of the tall picture windows revealed a gaping hole. Shattered glass lay strewn across the tile floor. A large rock lay on the floor on top of glass shards. "Jake! Come here and sit," Sam yelled, afraid he'd cut his paws.
Jake did as he was told. "You stay here, okay?" she said, before walking around the rest of the downstairs making sure no doors or windows were broken into. She flicked on the switch for the outdoor floodlights and peered into the yard but saw no one. Jake watched with his head tilted. "Good boy, you stay." Once she determined the house was safe, she yelled upstairs to Halie that it was okay for her to come downstairs.
Sam stood next to Jake in disbelief, trying to comprehend who would have done this to them and for what purpose. Two strange occurrences in one day struck Sam as far too coincidental. They didn't have any enemies, at least none she was aware of.
Halie joined her a few moments later. "I can't believe this. What's going on?"
"I don't know, I was asking myself the same question. Until this point I've felt safe living here, but I'm beginning to wonder how safe the area is. I don't know why anyone would do something like this."
"I'll go get a dust pan and clean this up," Halie said.
"No, leave it for now. I think we should call the sheriff's office first. Let's make sure we keep Jake away from the glass. Why don't you take him in the kitchen and make a pot of coffee and I'll call the sheriff's office. I think we're going to be up for a while."
"Coffee's a good idea," Halie said. She leaned in and kissed Sam on the cheek. Then she hugged her. They held onto each other for a full minute before separating.
Shortly before one o'clock, a deputy sheriff arrived at the house. He didn't need to knock. Sam was waiting at the front door for him and led him into the foyer.
"Evening, ladies," he said, "I'm Deputy Jenkins. I got here as soon as I could."
"We appreciate that, Deputy, and we're sorry we had to call you out here tonight," Sam said.
"It's not a problem. I'm going to have a look around, if you don't mind," he said.
"Of course, whatever you need. As you can see, someone threw a rock through the window," Sam said, pointing to the left wall of the living room. "We haven't touched anything."
The living room was a large open space with high ceilings and pine beams traversing it from one end to the other. The floor was made of large square pieces of Arizona mud red Spanish tile. The tile floor extended beyond the foyer and into the dining room. In the center of the living room wall, between the two large ceiling-to-floor windows, was a fireplace. A southwestern style rug with orange, brown, yellow, red, and turquoise designs lay on the floor in the middle of the room. A rectangular, rustic wooden table stood on the rug, as well as two comfortable leather sofas on opposite sides. Above the fireplace hung a sensual picture of a Native American Indian woman, and colorful Indian pottery and artifacts were set all about the room. On the matching rustic wooden end tables stood lamps made of antlers, and on one end table also sat a pewter framed photograph of Sam and Halie. Much of the living room contained pieces Sam owned when living in the cabin she rented from the park her first five years living as a resident there. Framed photographs Halie captured during their time together which Sam favored, also adorned the walls.
The deputy took a few steps into the living room. As he stepped closer to the damaged window, pieces of glass crunched under his boots. Sam watched as he reached down and lifted up the rock, weighing it with his hand. The tile was cracked underneath where the rock landed. He scanned the remainder of the nearby floor before he made his way over to Halie.
"I made some coffee," Halie said. "Would you like some?"
"No thank you ma'am, but I appreciate the offer. The rock cracked your tile floor."
Sam walked into the dining room and met the deputy before the entrance into the kitchen. "I can fix that. What I can't fix so easily is restoring the sense of security we thought we possessed."
"I understand. I'll need to take down some general information and then document anything you might have heard or seen tonight, or anything you saw or felt was suspicious prior to tonight. I'm guessing nothing was stolen? No one made entry into the house?"
"No, and it's a good thing, because I don't think our dog would have taken too kindly to them," Sam replied. "Nor would I." Over the next several minutes she provided him the remaining information he'd asked for, and told him about Coco's abduction. All the while, she sensed the deputy was withholding information from them. She soon found out her intuition was right.
"Do you have any enemies that you know of, or know of anyone who doesn't like either one of you?" Jenkins asked.
"No to both questions, as far as we're aware of," Sam said. "That is, if you don't count the people I've arrested in Grand Teton over the years, but that's my job. You certainly know how that is."
Jenkins nodded in agreement and jotted down a few more notes. "Have either of you two ladies been outside the house this evening?"
Sam answered. "Not since we got back from dinner, but after I heard the noise, I scanned the yard and didn't see anything. Why? What's going on?"
"I think you should both come with me."
Sam and Halie exchanged worried glances. They grabbed light coats from the front closet and followed the deputy along the brick walkway toward the garage. The night was quiet and otherwise perfect, Sam thought, befuddled by the act of cowardice against them, until it became crystal clear what the deputy withheld from them inside.
The headlights from his vehicle and the flashing red and blue lights on the patrol car highlighted the spray-painted words on their garage door "GO BACK HOME! DYKES NOT WELCOME!"
Sam and Halie stood side by side with their arms around each other's waists. Sam felt like the air had been sucked from her and merely stood in disbelief. Neither one spoke. Halie withdrew her arm from Sam and stole a glance over her shoulder, even though no one was around.
"I'm sorry," Jenkins said. "I know how you both must feel."
Halie shook. "I'm sorry, but I don't think you do."
"You feel violated. It's normal. It'll pass." Jenkins tucked his note pad and pen into his jacket pocket. "I've called for backup so we can inspect the yard and see what evidence we can uncover. Tomorrow, we'll interview your neighbors. I'll have extra guys patrolling for the next few days as well. Do you have somewhere you can stay until this window is fixed?"
"We could stay with friends of ours, but I'd rather not leave," Sam said. "Especially with the dog. Our friends have a cat and I'm not sure they'll get along."
"I don't recommend staying, but if you do, you'll need to secure that window tonight then, from the inside so you don't disturb the grounds."
"I understand. I've got plywood in the garage large enough to nail over the damage, and as fellow law enforcement, I'm equipped to take care of us should there be a need," Sam said.
"Noted. Look, we'll do our best to find out who did this. I promise."
"Thanks," Halie said. "We appreciate your help."
"Again, it's no problem. As I said, we'll put extra patrol in the area and call immediately if you hear anything unusual. You ladies take care."
Chapter Four
SAM AND HALIE ate breakfast early on Sunday. Neither slept much after the incident. "Are you sure you're up to going to the gallery today?" Sam asked.<
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"I'm sure. There's not much I can do here. Besides, I still have a lot to do to prepare for the opening and hopefully I'll be busy enough to keep my mind off this."
"I'm going to give April a call and see if I might be able to board Coco and Sugar at the ranch where she works, if the owner approves, until all this blows over. I don't trust leaving the horses at Charlie's right now. Whoever took Coco could do something worse the next time around. I'm not giving them that chance." Sam's best friend April managed a private American Quarter Horse ranch. "If not, I'll have to check out a few other places."
"It's a good idea. Charlie won't like it, but I'm sure he'll understand. Plus, it won't be forever. I should go." Halie stopped dead in her tracks and stared out the front windows. "Oh no, I don't believe this. I wonder who called them."
Sam followed her line of sight. "Great, just what we needed."
"I think you better handle this, don't you? After all, didn't you tell me you acquired some public relations experience working at the park at least once during your career? This should be a cake walk for you."
"Sure, take off and leave me with the sharks."
"Hey, wait a minute. I used to be one of those sharks if you recall," Halie said.
"I know, I'm kidding around. I realize they're only doing their job. I'm surprised they're out so early on a Sunday though. Are you sure you don't want to stay and help me muddle through this?" Sam said.
"Nope, they're all yours. Besides, maybe it's not such a bad thing if this gets out to the media. Better they put a face and story behind what happened rather than let idle gossip abound. I better go. Love ya. Bye." Halie left after she planted a quick peck on Sam's cheek.
"Okay, bye. Be careful."
"I will," Halie said. Then she closed the door to her Jeep and pulled out of the driveway seconds before the media vans pulled in.
THE MORNING AIR at the start of the new workweek was exceptionally chilly. Walter Pipp slunk up the driveway in a pair of worn, fuzzy slippers, long flannel pajama bottoms, a grey T-shirt with a tear near the top right shoulder, and a cigarette draped from his mouth. Smoking added ten years to his appearance. Covering his nightwear was a blue terry robe that hung open over his skeletal frame. Rays of sunshine made their way through the leaf canopy overhead, illuminating orange lilies, which glowed in sunlight that filtered through. He was too busy catching his breath to pay attention to the flowers as he made his way toward the morning paper. Before bending down to pick the paper up, he temporarily removed his cigarette, then hacked once and spit out a ball of phlegm before reinserting his smoke.
The paper wasn't bundled or wrapped in the thin, cheap plastic it usually came in. Instead, it appeared only to have been rolled up and thrown haphazardly from a car window, having unrolled and scattered when it hit the pavement. Part of one section landed in a puddle. "God damn kids these days," Walter hollered as his cigarette bobbed between his thin lips. "They don't have a clue what they're doing, some of "˜em. Take no pride in nothing. No pride in nothing. Not like in the old days."
Taking two deep puffs, he bent over, reassembled the paper, then straightened and headed back to the house. Walter entered the kitchen through the back door. "I'm back Nitro," he said. Nitro was Walter's pet rat. Walter kept him in a crate that occupied over half the kitchen table. He kept Nitro in the kitchen because that's where Walter spent most of his time. The kitchen and bathroom were the only two neat and clean rooms in the entire house. The rest contained year's worth of accumulated junk. Walter wasn't what one would consider a hoarder, but he wasn't far from becoming one either. His one love, besides Nitro, was his business, which he kept impeccably neat, clean, and well organized. It was a complete contrast to most of his home. His business gave him a reason to live, and he ran it well. His "work" was everything to him, and he'd do almost anything to keep it thriving.
After taking a sip from his cup of coffee, Walter let Nitro out of his cage. The pure white rat scrambled across the table, up the arm of Walter's robe, and settled on his shoulder. Nitro fiddled with Walter's ear. Walter craned his neck and gave him a kiss. "You're the best, you know that?" he said. He handed Nitro one of the rat's favorite, homemade, dried fruit treats, then read the paper like he did every morning while Nitro darted off to enjoy his prize. A few pages in, Walter couldn't believe what he read. He leaned back with a satisfied glint in his eyes and grin on his face. "Well I'll be damned," he exclaimed. "Maybe there is light at the end of this tunnel."
HALIE MEANDERED INTO the kitchen. It was Monday morning. Hair tussled, she breathed in the luscious smell of fresh brewing coffee. Sam stood in her pajama shorts and sleeveless nightshirt, putting toast into the toaster oven. Halie allowed her eyes to dance over Sam's hundred and forty pound muscled body for a brief moment. Part of her wanted to run her fingers through Sam's long dark hair and kiss her deeply, but the other part felt like sitting down. The lethargy she felt was not something she was used to. On her way to the chair, she found compromise and kissed Sam on the cheek. "Morning," she said, then sat.
"Morning. What? No hug?"
"I'm sorry. I'm tired I guess. I didn't sleep well the last couple of nights. You should let Jake in though before his barking wakes up the neighborhood," Halie said.
"Not many people to wake up," Sam replied. Only their one neighbor down the street was close enough to be within earshot.
Halie followed Sam over to the sliding glass door to the backyard and gave her a hug. "I'm sorry. Don't mind me. How come you're still here and not at work?"
"I called the chief in the afternoon yesterday and told him what happened. I asked for the day off so I can grout around the new tile I replaced, finish painting the garage door, and call a few window places to see who can fix this window the quickest."
"Good idea. I can still see the writing through the primer you put on the garage door yesterday. It'll be nice when I can't see what's under there anymore, although I'll still know what's been written."
Jake bolted through the door when Sam opened it. "I know, we can't change that, but at least I can make it less visible. That's why I'm staying home."
"I hate to admit this, but yesterday, on my way to the gallery, I couldn't help but think someone was watching me. It's strange. I don't know how to explain it. I feel different though, and not in a good way."
"I understand. It's normal. And like Jenkins said, it'll take some time. Once they catch whoever did this though, things will get back to normal, I promise." Sam handed Jake a cookie on his way back into the kitchen. Then she placed two slices of bread on each of their plates.
"Did you feel uneasy yesterday?" Halie asked.
"No, but I'm trained to deal with difficult situations like these and you're not," Sam replied. "I've been thinking though. We could install security cameras. Having them might make you feel better."
"It might, but then again, you can't cover everything, and they can't follow me everywhere. Plus, why should we have to live like that? I don't know why everything always has to be a struggle. Just when you think things are on track--bam--something else has to happen and set you back."
Sam appeared uncertain what to say and remained silent.
"That's life I guess. I forgot to ask you yesterday--did you check in with the detective to see what they found out after inspecting the yard?" Halie asked.
Sam held the coffee mug to her lips, took a sip, and sat next to Halie. She grabbed a knife. "He didn't indicate they'd found anything substantial, as far as I could tell, or if they did, they didn't tell me. Personally, I don't think they're taking this too seriously since no one was physically hurt," Sam said. She reached for the cream cheese and spread a knife-full onto her toast.
"That may be, but someone could have gotten hurt. And we are talking about significant property damage. What I never could understand is why people can't go about their own business and if they don't like something, they should stay away from it. I'm not asking everyone to love me, just to let me live my life the way
I let everyone else live theirs. I don't know. It's so frustrating sometimes. I don't even want to get started," Halie said. She bit hard into the toast. "What about the reporters? How did that go?"
"All right I guess. I'm not big on being in the eye of the media as you know."
"Yeah, I remember the chief telling me that he still hadn't figured out how you and Jake managed to slip inside the ranger station undetected last year, after the helicopter crash, while he got stuck answering all the reporter's questions."
Sam smiled at the memory. "That was pretty funny. Seeing him standing there, with that perplexed expression on his face, knowing he was cursing me out on the inside, gave me the first chance to relax that entire day. Toby and I reveled in a good laugh at his expense," Sam said. She watched Halie devour her last piece of toast. "We have more you know," Sam said, glad the incident hadn't suppressed Halie's eating habits.
Halie closed the top on the jelly jar and butter container and pushed her chair from the table. "Thanks, but no," she said. Her tone mirrored Sam's sarcasm. "I've put away plenty for now. I think I'll take a jog before I shower and go. I need to do something to boost my energy level and shake this humdrum feeling that seems to be hanging on me since yesterday. You want to join me?"
Sam stood and cleared the plates. "On the jog, or in the shower?"
"On the jog," Halie said, as she slapped Sam lightly on the butt.
"Well, a gal can ask, can't she?" Sam replied. "No, I've got a lot to do today. I think I'll do a short work out on the Universal and then shower."
"Okay. I'll take Jake with me then. The exercise will do him some good."
"It will, and he'll love you for it. Besides, I think he's been packing on a few pounds lately."
JAKE PRANCED ALONG at his usual pace. Halie had trouble keeping up with him. Each time he extended his lead by twenty yards or more, she experienced an overwhelming sense of unease and quickly called him back. Her mind whirled with crazy thoughts of Saturday night. She tried to figure out who would have a problem with them. Who found out they were gay? Who didn't already know? She wondered if the trespasser was one person or more than one, and if they'd be left alone now, or if the other night was the beginning of more to come. Had Jake scared them off? What if he hadn't? What if Sam had been away? Worse, what if Sam intervened and got seriously hurt or killed? Maybe security cameras wouldn't be a bad idea. As she tried to shake the negative thoughts taking hold, she checked behind her to make sure no one was following them. Her heart beat faster as the negative thoughts continued. Walking in a half dazed state, she jumped when a squirrel scampered through dry brush. "Damit," she said. "This is crazy."
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