6
Dylan rushed through his morning routine, having slept through the alarm. He had spent his day off from work going out on his brother’s fishing boat. An activity he liked to do, but yesterday felt compelled considering a few of his brother’s crew were sick. All day long on the water, he’d been busy but relaxed. Unfortunately, the boat had mechanical problems near the end of the day, and he’d stayed to help David with repairs. Now, he was functioning on a couple of hours of sleep.
After a quick shower, he reached into his closet. As Chief, it was up to him to determine his department’s uniform, and once he observed what Mitch allowed for the Baytown officers, he adopted the same style, khaki pants, and a dark blue polo with the Seaside Police Department logo stitched over the breast pocket. His pants were pressed, but not his shirts. “Fuck!” He’d meant to drop them by the laundry the previous day, but that flew out of his mind after getting the call from David to help on the boat.
Grabbing one from the hamper, he gave it a shake and a sniff test. “Not too bad.” Running his hands over the material to stretch out a couple of wrinkles, he determined it would have to do.
Ten minutes later, he turned onto the main street of Seaside. The town had less than four hundred residents, all he knew by name. Having been raised in a home just outside the town limits, he was well familiar with every nook and cranny. The town consisted of one main road that ran past the fishing harbor. Considering that Seaside was one of the few harbors on the Eastern Shore, especially on the ocean side, and fishing was the town’s main business, it was not surprising that the area around the harbor stayed busy. The Wharf Restaurant sat on one end of the harbor, boasting lunch and dinner of fresh seafood. During the vacation seasons, it offered Sunday brunch as well.
Several businesses located in old brick buildings nearby contained supplies for professional as well as tourist fishermen. More interested in their wares than the aesthetics of their business, the glass windows were rarely clean and the floors barely swept out. But it didn’t matter to the customers as they tramped in and out daily.
Side streets offered a few more eateries, a new Dollar General store, a 7-Eleven with gas pumps, and other businesses. To most, he knew Seaside was a tiny dot on the map. The kind of place that you’d miss if you blinked while driving past. But to him, it was home.
He waved to several townspeople before pulling into the parking lot of the one-story building that housed the police department in the front and town council meeting rooms toward the back. Seaside was so small that the Mayor and Town Council received a small stipend and only worked part-time. The city treasurer and town manager were full time, along with his department, consisting of a police sergeant, three officers, and the receptionist. The receptionist handled the non-emergency calls, while the 9-1-1 system for North Heron County was tied into their dispatch system.
“Hey, Barbara,” he called, walking through reception. The building was old, and the reception area was not fancy, although it had been upgraded for security. That was one of the first changes he had made when he took over. It was easy to think that a small town didn’t need a secure police station, but he’d seen too many situations get out of control quickly when he was stationed overseas with the military police and wasn’t going to take any chances.
Barbara sat on a tall chair behind a long counter that was separated from the public area with shatter-proof glass. At first, she’d balked at the changes but now liked having a bit of privacy as well as security.
“Sorry I’m late,” he added.
“Late date last night?” she asked, her smile wide as she looked him up and down. Like so many in Seaside, she’d been there since childhood and held the receptionist job since she’d graduated from high school over thirty years earlier.
“Nah, helping my brother.” He was almost to his office when he asked, “Anything I need to know about?”
Shaking her head, she replied, “No. Carl and Tom have been patrolling the harbor while Lynette has handled anything else.”
Carl Winters was his sergeant, and his three officers were Lynette Barber, Joe Montrose, and Tom Binion.
“Has there been anything else?”
“Marjorie Sanders is complaining about the noise the motorcyclists make when they drive through town on their way to The Wharf.”
“Then I’m glad Lynette’s got that. She’ll be able to take care of Marjorie.” He walked into his office and sat down. Marjorie Sanders had seemed ancient when he was a child, and now that he was in his thirties, she was still cracking the whip. Pushing almost ninety and deaf as a post, he knew she could barely hear the sound of the motorcycles but was convinced a gang of ruffians was going to take over the town.
His ass had barely hit the seat when Barbara called out, “Disturbance at the Bass Hotel. You gotta take it. Lynette’s still with Marjorie. Joe’s off today.”
Hefting himself from his chair, he jogged out to his vehicle and drove down the street to the hotel. Run by Steve Bass, its name also appealed to the visiting fishermen who hoped to catch Striped Bass in the bay. Pulling into the parking lot, he immediately spied the issue.
A man was standing in between two women on the sidewalk outside one of the rooms with his arms extended and his palms facing out, attempting to keep the women separated. Recognizing the man and one of the women, Dylan sighed. Their screaming and arguing continued, so as he pulled in next to them he blasted the siren, jolting the trio into silence as they snapped their mouths shut and turned wide eyes toward him.
Josiah Gambit was standing on the sidewalk with no shoes or socks. He had his pants on, but his T-shirt was inside out and not tucked in. His hair was a mess, standing on end, and Dylan was certain Josiah’s eyes were bloodshot. One of the women was a bottle blonde, her hair an equal mess, and looked as though someone had tried to rip it out by the roots. Smeared lipstick and raccoon eyes gave evidence that she had gone to bed without taking her makeup off first. She was also barefoot, dressed in a robe haphazardly tied about her waist. And the other woman was Ellie Gambit, spitting mad but at least dressed.
He climbed from the SUV and stalked over, focusing his glare on the man. “Josiah. You’re too damn old to be pulling the same shit.” Jerking his gaze toward the smaller woman, he said, “Ellie, I’ll say the same thing about you.”
“Me?” Ellie yelled. “I’m not the one who’s forgetting my marriage vows!”
“No, that’s true. But causing a scene and assaulting someone else when Josiah does the same thing every time he goes off on a bender doesn’t make any sense. Either accept that he isn’t going to change or dump his ass. Hell, you’re the one who’s working, and if I had to guess, the house is in your name.”
Ellie snapped her mouth shut, tilting her head as his words seemed to penetrate. Josiah, on the other hand, looked up toward Dylan, his mouth hanging open.
“Chief Hunt, what the hell are you telling my wife? You’re telling her to leave me? What kind of officer of the law are you?”
Legs apart and fists planted on his hips, he replied, “I’m the kind of officer of the law that’s sick and tired of seeing this scene repeated month after month… for years.” He let his gaze drop to the other woman, not recognizing her.
“Ma’am, I’m assuming you’re staying at this hotel. I’m also going to assume that you’re traveling through since I don’t recognize you. I’m also assuming that you probably met Josiah last night in the bar at The Wharf. Then I’m going to assume that you brought him back to your room. Your suggestion or his? Don’t know, don’t care. But you now understand that he’s married to a woman who can find him when he doesn’t come home.”
The woman tucked a wayward strand of bleached blonde hair behind her ear and stepped back away from Josiah and Ellie. “Your assumptions are all correct. I didn’t know he was married until this… woman showed up this morning, screaming and threatening me.”
“Well, we can handle this in two ways. All three of you will go down to the st
ation with me, give your statements, and decide who wants to press charges. If punches were thrown, then I can charge anyone who threw them with assault. Or this thing breaks up right now, and everyone goes their separate ways.” He slowly looked at all three, not surprised to see an uncomfortable silence settled over the trio. “Josiah, if I could charge you with just being stupid, I would. But unfortunately, I can’t.”
Josiah’s face fell, the wrinkles in his hound-dog appearance deepening. “Oh, dang it, Chief Hunt. Hell, even you’ve been known to party hard.”
Bristling, he snapped, “I’m not the one who’s married and can’t keep it in my pants. I’m also not the one who’s cattin’ about town, practically right under my wife’s nose. And I’m sure as hell not the one who’s standing outside a hotel getting into a screaming match with two women. So keep me the fuck out of this situation.”
“I know, I know, Chief. I’m sorry. I was out of line.”
Before Dylan had a chance to reply, Ellie snapped, “You’re always sorry, Josiah, and you’re always the one out of line.”
“Okay, so what’s it gonna be? Down to the station to give statements and face charges or walk away?”
“Well, for me, I plan on grabbing my suitcase and getting out of this podunk town. I must’ve been crazy for stopping here, but my friend told me The Wharf Restaurant was one of the best on the Eastern Shore.”
“Then maybe you should’ve stuck to what was on the menu!” Ellie snapped at the woman. She glared at Josiah and looked up at Dylan. “Chief, I agree. Josiah has dragged my good reputation as his long-suffering wife through the mud enough. I don’t want to go to the station and press charges. But I am going home. Alone!”
With that, the two women whirled in opposite directions. The blonde headed into the hotel room and slammed the door while Ellie stomped to her car, climbed in, and screeched the tires as she backed out of the parking space.
Josiah sighed heavily and shook his head. “Guess I really messed up this time, Chief.”
“No, not just this time, Josiah. Just because Ellie’s gotten tired of this and is kicking your ass out doesn’t mean that it’s only this time that you’ve messed up.”
“What am I going to do? I love her.”
“Those are just words, Josiah. Words are worthless if the deeds don’t back ‘em up. You work when you feel like it, but Ellie works full time. You may love her, but I think you married her because you felt like she’d take care of you. That makes you weak. A weak, pathetic man. And maybe part of Ellie thought that was love. Being able to take care of somebody. You going off, getting drunk, hooking up with some random person is not love. You know it. I know it. And Ellie knows it.”
The hotel door opened, and Josiah’s shoes and socks were tossed at his feet. The blonde woman, hair now combed, did not even look at the two men as she rolled her small suitcase out to a car, tossed it into the backseat, and shot out of the parking lot, much like Ellie had.
“Get your shoes and socks on, Josiah. I’ll drive you home, and you and Ellie can talk. But I’m telling you, it’s time you did some real soul-searching.”
They soon pulled up to a small brick house on one of the back streets of Seaside. Josiah climbed from the seat then turned and looked back at Dylan. “Thanks for the ride, Chief, and the talk. I am sorry I made that smart-ass remark about you. You’re a good man. I was just being a dick.”
Lifting his hand, he waved it dismissively. “Go on in if Ellie will let you in. If not, sit on the other side of the door and think about what you can say and do to fix your marriage.”
He sat in the driveway for a moment and watched as the front door opened, Ellie standing with her hands on her hips, glaring up at her wayward husband. She wasn’t saying anything, but he could see Josiah’s lips moving. After a moment, Ellie stepped back and let her husband in. Having no idea how their conversation would go or why it would be any different than the many they’d had over the years, Dylan shook his head.
Looking at the clock on the dashboard, he radioed to Barbara. “Took care of the disturbance. It’s time for me to head to Easton for the LEL meeting. I’ll be back in after lunch.”
He looked forward to the monthly meetings with the other police chiefs and sheriffs in the surrounding area, now all close friends.
And, of course, there was Hannah. He hadn’t seen her since the wedding a couple of weeks ago, and when they were together professionally, she was business. All business. He’d had female friends when in the military and knew they often had to work twice as hard for the respect afforded to a man. And Hannah was in the same position, so he couldn’t blame her, but he knew the minute he laid eyes on her, he’d battle the urge to hold her again. Yeah, that would go over brilliantly!
Josiah’s words came back to him. Even you’ve been known to party hard. His gramp’s words slammed into him as well. Boy, now that you’ve got a uniform, you think your shit don’t stink. But remember where you came from—you’re no one from a nowhere town like the rest of us.
Sighing, he pulled into the Easton Police Department parking lot and leaned over to peer into the rearview mirror. Seems like everyone has an opinion about who I am. Checking his reflection, he snorted as he swiped a hand through his hair in anticipation of seeing Hannah. Hers is the only opinion I care about.
Pearl had a large pot of strong coffee made, just like everyone liked it. Hannah pulled several mugs down from the cabinet. The meeting attendees would fix their own coffee, but she would have mugs, creamer, and sugar out.
“Good morning, Hannah.”
She smiled as Mitch walked into the room. Her father thought she was crazy for turning down a position with the FBI to become Police Chief of a tiny town and rolled his eyes in surprise at Mitch, who actually left a career with the FBI. Even several years later, her father still mentioned it whenever she went home for a visit.
“Good morning,” she replied. “How’s Tori?”
If anyone ever wondered what Mitch thought about marrying his childhood sweetheart and starting a family, they only had to look at his face. A wide smile curved his lips, and he immediately pulled his phone from his pocket, flipping through several photographs to show her. She admired Mitch. He seemed to be the kind of person who had it all. Support from his family, love of a good woman, a healthy child, and praises sang for the career he’d chosen and the job he did. She would begrudge him his good fortune if he wasn’t so damn likable.
“Your son will soon be ready to play ball with the American Legion group if he keeps growing the way he does!”
Mitch chuckled and shook his head. “He’s not ready yet, but if he wants to play in a couple of years, I think my parents will be cheering as loud as anybody to see him play.”
The clomp of heavy boots sounded in the hallway, and she looked up in time to see Colt, Liam, and Wyatt walk in together.
Colt greeted Hannah, dropping into the seat next to her. She couldn’t help but smile at the change in Colt’s demeanor now that he was married and had adopted Carrie’s son. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.
“Carrie’s arranging a party for all the preggers.”
“I heard. I’ll be there,” she assured. Carrie was hosting a baby celebration for their many friends who were expecting babies. At last count, Jillian, Belle, Rose, Lia, and Jade were all pregnant. Having little time off, she appreciated that they were having a joint shower. The Auxiliary was helping to host, and with many of the women bringing gently used items as well as new presents, the new moms would be well taken care of.
Liam headed straight to the coffee pot. “Morning, all.” Grabbing the biggest mug, he poured his coffee. “Thanks for this, Hannah. I desperately need the caffeine this morning.”
“Well, you know Pearl makes it strong,” she commented.
“Had some teenage boys decide to go four wheelin’ through old man Gunther’s pasture. He’d already warned them off, then decided taking potshots at ‘em would do the trick. Between him, the boys w
ho had too much to drink, and their parents threatening to sue everybody, I didn’t even get home until after midnight.”
The others chuckled at the thought of Liam having to chase down an old farmer and some drunk teenagers in a pasture, but Hannah knew they each could well imagine themselves doing the same thing.
He settled at the table with the others and took a healthy sip of the hot, strong brew. “I thought I’d be the last one.”
Just then, Pearl’s voice carried down the hall. “You look like something the cat dragged in. You must have had a late night!”
Hannah didn’t need to look up to see who Pearl was talking to. She hated the image of what a late night for Dylan would entail. Plastering a smile onto her face as Dylan walked in, she greeted him with the others and waited while he grabbed his cup of coffee, apologizing for being late.
“Sorry… spent my day off yesterday on my brother’s boat and half the night helping him repair it.” His eyes met hers, and she inwardly winced, having assumed the worst.
Sliding into the only available seat, he was directly across from her, and she dropped her gaze to the agenda sheet she’d provided. It didn’t help—she could still feel his eyes on her, and her nerves tingled with strange electricity moving throughout her body.
“Le…” She cleared her throat and began again. “Let’s get started.” Their monthly meetings were informal, something they found worked well to maintain the interdepartmental camaraderie. Their meetings generally started with each giving a quick rundown on any cases, open or closed, that they felt would have a bearing on the other localities.
“Thanks for the tip about the shoplifters in Baytown, Mitch,” Colt said. “I warned my people and we caught two of them at one of the little shopping centers in the county.”
“I was informed that the construction on the new hotel would start soon,” Dylan said. “I know the inns aren’t happy, but the Seaside Town Council thinks it will help tourism if we have more places for them to stay. The Wharf is thrilled, although the mayor is talking about getting another restaurant to come.”
Shielding You (Baytown Boys Book 13) Page 6