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With a grunt, Grant Anderson slid the last window shutter into place, and then wiped the dripping water out of his eyes. Another storm band was coming through and being pelted with wind and rain wasn’t his idea of fun. He’d be glad to get inside where it was warm and dry, riding out the impending hurricane in safety and comfort.
“I don’t know what I would do without you,” Evelyn said. “There was no way I could have managed that on my own.”
Grant didn’t know Evelyn’s exact age, but she was at least seventy-five and possibly even older. She’d had a stroke a few years ago, and she didn’t get around as easily as she used to. There was no way she could have climbed up on a ladder to put her hurricane shutters on.
She also didn’t have any family close by anymore. Her husband had passed on a few years ago and her son, who usually handled these matters, had taken a job in Colorado six months ago so she was on her own.
“Why don’t you come inside and get dry?” Evelyn suggested. “I’ll make some coffee, and I have some muffins, too. You’re soaked to the skin. I don’t want you to catch pneumonia.”
Normally, Grant would have happily visited with the woman, enjoying her baked goods. Evelyn made a mean chocolate chip muffin. Her cheesecake was to die for as well.
“I’d like to, but I still have to check the downtown area before the storm hits,” he replied. The rain slicker he was wearing wasn’t doing a damn thing to keep him dry. He felt like a duck, and not in a good way. “I need to make sure everything is all buttoned up and everyone is ready. The weather is rapidly getting worse.”
“Your sheriff duties are never done, I suppose. If someone is out in this mess they need their head examined. You shouldn’t risk your life to save them if they’ve done something stupid.”
“Sadly, it doesn’t work like that. Although once it gets really bad, I won’t answer any emergency calls until the storm passes. It would be far too dangerous to even try.”
For the most part, the town was aware that while the hurricane was right on top of them, any emergency services couldn’t be deployed. But there was always a baby that would decide to be born in the middle of it all. Grant’s mom had said it had something to do with the barometric pressure, but he didn’t know all of the details. They’d send an ambulance out when the storm cleared so that the new family could get to the hospital to be checked out. So far, there hadn’t been any tragedies. He hoped that continued.
“You headed over to the resort to ride it out?”
His family owned a resort and land on the beach, overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. His brothers ran the place, but Grant had decided to go another way - law enforcement. Most of the time he had no regrets. He simply wasn’t the type to sit at a desk, take a meeting, or push paper all day. As sheriff of this little beach community, Grant had more than a job. He was doing something he loved and making a difference doing it.
“Probably. I want to be close if my brothers need any help.”
The resort had generators for when the power would inevitably go out. That made it a desirable place for people up and down the coastal area where the storm would hit. The windows were also hurricane-rated, and the building was sturdy as hell. They’d ridden out several storms in the past without major damage.
There were always downed trees and power lines. Often flooded areas and damaged roofs. That was the nature of the beast, and Grant had grown up here. So far, they’d been lucky. That catastrophic Category Five hurricane hadn’t paid them a visit yet. If that happened…well…all bets were off. They’d probably have to evacuate the entire town.
This storm wasn’t going to be that intense. This was a strong Category One which wasn’t nearly as bad, but it would certainly cause some havoc. Most grizzled, veteran Floridians would simply scoff at a Cat One, and then invite the neighbors over for a hurricane party. It was Grant’s job to make sure that no one did anything asinine and ended up in the morgue once the weather cleared.
“Please stay safe. And thank you again for coming to help me. If you hadn’t, I’m not sure what I would have done.”
“Happy to help,” Grant replied, wiping his wet face with a handkerchief that wasn’t all that dry. “Hunker down and stay inside until it’s all over.”
“I will. I’m too old to be out in this. Samson and I will just watch some television. I also have some lanterns and a good book if the power goes out.”
Samson was Evelyn’s gigantic orange cat who hated everyone except her. Grant made a point to stay far away from the feline. The last time he’d gotten too close he’d almost had a nasty set of claw marks for his trouble.
He waved goodbye to Evelyn and climbed into his SUV before heading towards the center of town. There were already some limbs down in the streets, and he stopped a few times to pick them up and get them out of the way before moving on. The weather was deteriorating rapidly, and everyone needed to be inside for the night. In the morning, the worst of it would be over.
He didn’t know why the storms were worse at night, but it always seemed to be that way.
The windshield wipers made a squeaky noise with every swish, and it reminded him that the vehicle was due for its maintenance appointment. The inside of the truck was warm and dry, however, and he shed his poncho, draping it over the back of the passenger seat. He was soaked to the skin but with any luck he’d be inside and in a hot shower in less than hour.
Driving slowly through the downtown area, he made sure that the windows were boarded up and any object that could turn into heavy flying debris was secured. When he was satisfied that he’d done all he could, he turned the SUV toward the resort area. He could have stayed in his own home, but he wanted to help his brothers if they needed it.
He was only about ten minutes from the resort when he saw a car on the shoulder of the road. There were no hazard lights, and he wasn’t sure if anyone was in the sedan. Parking there wasn’t the safest place, and it needed to be moved to a better location.
Turning on his official lights, he pulled behind the car and reached for his already sodden plastic poncho. It looked like that hot shower might be delayed slightly. If no one was in the car, he’d put a tag on it that it needed to be moved off the shoulder as soon as it was safe to do so. In the meantime, it would have to sit here until tomorrow.
Traffic stops were always a dicey situation. He didn’t do them often as he had deputies who handled the lion’s share, but he never knew what he’d be walking into. Were they drunk? Asleep? Fleeing from a crime? Would they be cooperative or belligerent? Were they armed?
He could barely make out her license plate on the back of the car, but he managed to get it typed into the laptop computer on the passenger side. It immediately spit out the information he needed.
Mia Elizabeth Gamble. Thirty years old. Her home address was Savannah, Georgia.
