She nodded. It was true. Pulling over cars was one of the most dangerous things an officer could do. The reaction was always unpredictable and, statistically, more officers were killed and wounded during traffic stops. “Like that,” she agreed. “A window on reality, and maybe some personal experiences if you don’t mind. The class isn’t huge, just eighteen students, but many of them are talking about becoming officers in larger communities. A taste for excitement, I guess.”
He nodded. “I’ll make it clear, though, that most of my experience was with the military police. Depending on where you’re stationed, life can be too exciting.”
“I imagine.” Although she supposed she really couldn’t. Her war zone, such as it was, had been city streets. As part of the victims unit, she’d been too often embroiled in domestic disputes, which could become very ugly. She had been getting close to making detective, however, and being part of investigative work had been her love. Now here she was, teaching.
“So when do you want me?”
“The class is on Friday for three hours at two in the afternoon. You can pick your day, and you don’t have to spend the entire three hours. I’m looking for a window on reality from you, if you don’t mind, a window that won’t crush their dreams but that might bring them more in line with what it’s like. Especially in a larger jurisdiction.”
“You’d probably know more about busier jurisdictions, if we’re talking civilian only. This one is fairly quiet compared to a big city,” he agreed. “Although it seems to be getting less quiet. You should talk to our previous sheriff sometime. I hear that for the last thirty years he’s been swearing this county is going to hell in a handbasket.”
That drew a laugh from her. “When did he retire?”
“About fifteen years ago. Still likes to stick a finger in the pie from time to time, though. Good man.”
“I’d like to meet him.” Maybe. She wasn’t sure she was ready to get involved in any depth with the whole cop scene again. But that was for later.
He glanced at his watch. “It’s five-thirty. I just came off shift. Can I buy you dinner at the diner? We can talk more there without my stomach growling.”
She couldn’t drive so she’d have to walk. She’d been avoiding public places out of...what? Fear. Fear? She’d never been one to be afraid about much before. She couldn’t let it get in her way now. Steeling herself, she nodded. “Sure. I’d like that. I don’t drive, though, so I’ll walk there.”
He arched a brow but didn’t ask. “I’ll give you a lift. No problem.” He nodded to her service dog. “No problem for him, either.”
After being nervous about meeting this man, she’d been asked to have dinner with him. Just a cordial, friendly thing. Why did she keep avoiding the contact? Sheesh.
But it wasn’t really fear, she admitted. It was something more craven. She didn’t want to become embarrassed. Hell, she was going to have to learn to live with that. Absolutely no way around it.
“What’s your pal’s name?” he asked as they walked out to his official SUV. The parking lot was nearly empty at dinner hour, and evening classes hadn’t yet begun.
“Snowy.”
“Well, I know from experience that Maude will give him a burger on a paper plate, if that’s okay. I don’t know the rules with service dogs, just police dogs.”
“Pretty much the same. Don’t touch.”
He laughed. “Makes sense. But can he have a burger?”
“Sure, if I tell him it’s okay. And it will be.” Because she really wouldn’t need him once she was seated, and she knew from experience that Snowy loved burgers. Heck, if they passed a joint cooking them, his head would lift and he’d start sniffing loudly. He didn’t break stride, pull on his leash or anything, but it was clear he hoped she would stop and treat him. She did, too often, she supposed.
He opened the door of his police SUV, a tan color not much different from his uniform and probably a color that didn’t show dust much. Along its side the name of the department and the smaller words To Protect and Serve had been painted in a dark green. Beside it was blazoned a gold sheriff’s star.
Kerri climbed in and Snowy followed, taking the back seat as he had learned. “Good boy,” she praised him. He gave her his version of a smile.
* * *
Stuart watched the process play out before he closed the door as Kerri snapped her seat belt into place. Good dog. Apparently pleasant woman. Sure pretty enough. She was dressed, however, in black slacks and a black silky shirt. Not quite a uniform, but suggestive of one. Interesting.
Then he wondered if he should tell her that Snowy’s fur was redecorating her a bit. He decided that would be an unmannerly thing to do. She was probably aware of it.
As he climbed in behind the wheel and snapped his own seat belt into place, he glanced at her again. She was staring straight ahead as if a bit uncomfortable. Hell, she was just going to have a meal with another cop. She must have done that frequently.
Her eyes were striking, a brilliant green that he doubted he’d ever seen before, her hair a rusty red that fit her. It was cut short and businesslike but no less pretty. Her face was smooth, youthful, classic in its lines and sprinkled with cute freckles.
He turned his attention to driving because he’d realized at some point in adulthood that women didn’t really like being looked over by strange men. It made them uneasy.
Eyes front, he warned himself. He’d only just met her and assessing her physical attributes wouldn’t help their budding relationship any. But man, did she have some attributes! He smothered the smile that played around his mouth because he didn’t want to explain it.
She didn’t offer conversation as they drove to Maude’s diner and he wondered if being around him made her uncomfortable. Because he was a cop? Well, there was a service dog in the back seat, which meant she’d been through some kind of hell, and maybe it was the reason she was teaching instead of working a desk in her former department. He’d have to wait for her to tell him, if she wanted to. He could research her easily enough, but that would be an intrusion on her privacy. It was all up to her.
How had matters become so complicated so quickly? He’d only just met her, was planning to spend an hour or so with one of her classes, and that would be that, right?
Or maybe not. There had been a tentativeness when she walked with him to his vehicle, not the cop’s confident stride that was drilled into them from day one. Never show weakness. Always take charge.
Something had been cut out of her.
* * *
At the diner, after Stuart edged them into an angled parking spot, Kerri opened her own door and climbed out, reaching for Snowy’s leash as he followed her. While Stu helping her get in may have been simple gentlemanliness, she didn’t trust it. Damn, she didn’t want to be treated like an invalid, not even in small ways. Yeah, she had a problem, but it didn’t make it impossible for her to do most things, including climbing in and out of a car. She was jealous of her independence these days.
Stu opened the diner door for her, and they walked in with Snowy. Dinner hour was obviously beginning, but the diner wasn’t overly packed. Almost everybody took a look at her dog, though. He was striking, and would always draw attention, but she suspected most of them were interested in the vest he wore.
Service dog. Stamping her immediately with the word disabled. Which she was, much as she hated to admit it.
“I’m lucky,” she remarked to Stu as they settled at a table near the back. Snowy crawled in underneath, out of the way, but very close to her. On guard for her as always.
“How so?” he asked, passing her a plastic menu that was surprisingly not sticky. Most places like this served grease with the menu.
“Judging by the attention Snowy draws toward me, I’m fortunate I don’t have an obvious disability. I’m not in a wheelchair, I’m not missing a limb, my face isn�
��t half-destroyed. I’ve seen what those people go through.”
He nodded. “So have I. Not too long ago I had words with a woman in the market. She was audibly fuming about a young guy in an electric cart who was blocking her access to produce. Poor fellow looked so embarrassed, like he was doing something wrong.”
“What did you say?”
“‘Ma’am, you’re in his way, not the other way around.’” He flashed a smile. “Guess who looked embarrassed then?”
She smiled, liking this man. “Way to go, Sergeant Canady.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I prefer my people to be decent. Anyway, I can tell you from personal experience that everything on this menu is delicious, and most of it fattening if you’re worried about that. Maude, the owner, believes in down-home cooking. I can almost guarantee you’ll wind up with a good amount of take-home, probably enough for dinner tomorrow.”
She looked down at the plastic card in her hands. “Hey, there’s a chef salad on here.”
He laughed. “I said almost everything.”
She was hungry. Having to walk everywhere meant that she could only carry home a bag or two of groceries. She needed to get one of those metal folding carts and maybe she’d be able to carry more.
Lately, however, she delayed making that walk for longer than she should and let her cupboards grow bare. Not because she didn’t like to walk but because she honestly worried about what would happen if she dropped a sack of groceries, something like eggs, when she was having a seizure. Heck, just scattering the stuff all over the sidewalk would ensure that at least a few people came running to help her gather it all up.
She was perfectly capable of picking it all up herself when she emerged from oblivion, but by then someone would be doing it for her. While she appreciated the kindness, she also hated the feeling of dependency that came over her. The sense of indebtedness to total strangers.
She obviously had some issues to deal with.
As hungry as she was, she followed his example and chose the steak sandwich. When she’d been on duty as a cop, she’d been like many others, grabbing a burger from anywhere nearby because it was fast and easy and wouldn’t prevent her from answering a call quickly. It would have been simple to choose one now, but the steak sandwich sounded good, as did the choice of steamed broccoli or dinner salad. She went with the broccoli.
She also realized she was being too quiet. On the job, conversations with strangers were easy. She had a role and she knew how to fulfill it. There was no role now, not one that fully fit into the current situation.
Eventually, she dared a question, wondering if he was afraid to ask her any. The obvious question would have been about why she had Snowy, but he was probably avoiding that.
“You said you were a military MP,” she began. “For how long?”
“Too long,” he said lightly, then shook his head with a half smile. “Not really. Twelve years. Four years ago I resigned and came here looking for a little tranquility.”
“Did you find it?”
“Mostly.”
Food and coffee arrived just then, all delivered with a loud clatter. Then the mountainous woman with a frown asked, “You wanna feed that dog?”
Stu looked at Kerri. “How does he take his burger?”
She had to grin. “Just plain, no bun, medium.” The woman stomped away and she looked at Stu. “Is something wrong?”
“Not a thing. Maude is the orneriest woman in this town, I’ve gathered. Everyone’s used to it and it doesn’t seem to bother anyone. I’ve joined the crowd. You’ll notice, however, that she asked about feeding Snowy. There’s a good woman under that crust.”
“That’s good to know.” She glanced down and realized Snowy was facing outward, toward the edge of the table. Probably hoping for crumbs. “He’s such a good dog,” she remarked, then looked at him across plates holding a huge sandwich, enough home fries to feed a football team and a bowl of steaming broccoli.
“You like it here?” she asked him.
“Very much. Although I guess I should warn you about the grapevine. It works faster than phones and runs everywhere it seems. Great resource for us cops, maybe not so good for people who want privacy. What about you? This place seems out of the way.”
“I wanted a smaller college to...test the waters and see whether teaching is my thing. This was the best offer I got that matched what I was looking for, and I grabbed it.”
He picked up half his sandwich and held it while he spoke. The juice that dripped from the meat made her mouth water. “I wouldn’t have believed this was the best place. Other colleges have missed out.”
She felt her cheeks color. “You can’t know that.”
“I’m good at guessing,” he laughed.
“You came here,” she pointed out.
“And I have a hankering to own a nice piece of land where I can ride horses and maybe have some other livestock. Not sure yet, but I really like hiking around here in the mountains and I’ve always liked riding. Time will tell.”
“Oh, that sounds so nice,” she remarked. It did. Wide-open spaces, mountains, hiking. With Snowy, she could hike. Riding, though? Well, maybe. As far as she knew, she didn’t fall over or anything. She ought to try it sometime, expand her horizons even more.
She had a weakness when it came to fried potatoes. Not so much the fast-food variety, but real fried potatoes, so she reached for one of the large wedges. It was hot and every bit as savory as she could have hoped for. “I may pig out on the fries and take the rest home.”
“They are good,” he agreed, then took a large bite from his sandwich.
While he chewed and swallowed, she followed his lead, deciding the sandwich was probably better fresh, too, like the fries would have to be. As soon as it hit her palate, she was grateful she hadn’t succumbed to the standby burger. A quiet sound of pleasure escaped her.
Stu grinned. “Can’t get any better,” he told her after wiping his mouth with a paper napkin. “It all heats up well, too, except the fries. The sandwich is great cold, but the fries...” He shrugged one shoulder. “If you don’t mind them limp, they’re okay, too.”
Maude returned with a hamburger patty on a paper plate. Snowy’s head was up, his sniffer working overtime. Maude put the plate on the table. “Guess you ought to give it to him, being he’s a service dog and all.”
Kerri was touched that she cared enough to know. “Thank you so much.”
“Just don’t tell the health department.” She glared at Stu.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he assured her. “It just happened to fall on the floor and there just happened to be a paper plate lying there.”
Maude snorted and stomped away. Snowy showed small signs of struggling to behave himself, so Kerri wasted no time in placing the plate under his nose. “Snowy, okay.” That burger would be gone in two or three bites.
* * *
Stu was enjoying himself, watching her reactions to everything new, watching her interplay with her dog. He decided he liked her more than a little, and just wished there was some way to get her full story. One or two times he’d seen what he thought was sorrow flit across her face. Leaving her job, he guessed, hadn’t been easy for her. Now she was beginning a whole new life in a strange place with a service dog at her side. He gave her points for gumption.
“Whereabouts are you living?” he asked when the meal was nearly done. She was going to be taking home a whole lot of food with her.
“Apartment house on Tech Street.”
“Now there’s a story. But first, aren’t you uneasy? I mean, that place is practically deserted. In good shape, I hear, but not many folks around.”
“I’m not worried about it. It was within my budget. But the name Tech Street seems out of place in this town.”
“Oh, it is. Want the story, condensed version?”
&nbs
p; She nodded as Maude brought foam containers to the table.
“A number of years back a semiconductor plant opened up just outside of town. They brought in a lot of new people as well as a lot of jobs for locals. Hence the apartments. Anyway, the plant shuttered after a few years, most of the new people moved on and the college considered buying the apartment building for students. They didn’t, but even if they had, an awful lot of the student body are commuters and it probably would have been a loss. Sometimes the building has been nearly full, but lately it’s been mostly empty. I don’t need to explain to you why that’s a concern for law enforcement. Big empty buildings seem to breed trouble.”
“I know.” She shook her head a little as she moved food from her plate into the boxes. “I didn’t think about that when I rented, just that it was what I needed and the price was within my means. Is there a lot of trouble over there?”
He shook his head. “Nope.” He knew, after what he had said, that she wouldn’t be expecting that answer. Maybe his sense of humor needed some modifying.
She looked up sharply and he shrugged. “Look at this place, Kerri. If we have ever had a crack house, no one mentioned it to me. The current owners bought the building thinking to turn it into short-term rentals for skiers, from what I hear. Well, the ski resort hasn’t panned out yet.”
“That’s kind of sad.”
“In one way for certain. Younger folks keep moving away. The community college is like a launching pad for careers elsewhere.”
They finished filling their boxes with leftovers. Kerri picked up the paper plate that Snowy had nearly licked through and placed it on top of her empty crockery plate. She hoped that wasn’t a violation. Stu went to the counter and paid the bill.
She couldn’t help but follow him with her eyes. There might be something to say for coming out of her shell, after all.
“Let me drive you and Snowy home,” he said as they exited the diner. “You don’t want to walk carrying those containers.”
Colton's Killer Pursuit Page 23