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Tara
“This is the third time in as many weeks that someone has taken Blakely’s truck for a joy ride, and each time it was found in a different part of town.” I wasn’t normally the person to run to the boss with every little problem, but Pilgrim was a small town and we had to tackle petty crime quickly, before it escalated. “So I checked, it’s not just Blakely.”
“Dammit.” Xander let out a low growl and raked a hand through his thick, movie star perfect hair. “That was my next question. Theories?”
I sighed, and pushed out of the stuffy station that had an air conditioner that worked, on its best day, at half power, and shook my head.
“I can’t tell if the teenagers are just acting up more because it’s getting warm and there’s nothing to do, or if there some new criminal element in town.” And it bothered me a lot that I didn’t know. Pilgrim was my town, and I hadn’t noticed any new or unfamiliar faces. Was that because they were hiding, or because I was too preoccupied with my life’s failures to notice?
“I’d put money on youngsters, but that worries me because Blakely won’t take it too kindly many more times before he breaks out the buckshot.”
“Exactly,” I nodded as I shielded my eyes from the bright midday sun.
“Thanks for bringing this to my attention, Tara. Stay diligent and take note of everything.”
“Always.”
“And maybe consider taking the detective’s exam next month. You’re ready. Aren’t you?”
“I am now.” My voice was filled with confidence, at least where my career was concerned. An afternoon spent with Sophie and Eva, trying to figure out my relationship likes and dislike hadn’t given me much confidence for my romantic future. Which meant I needed to focus on where I could succeed.
My career.
“Anything I can do?”
I shook my head. “Nah. I already gave myself the kick in the pants I needed, but thanks for the offer.”
“No problem,” he said looking more relieved than anything that I hadn’t decided to burden him with my problems. “Hey, I got a pink letter in the mail from Lila Jacobs. Said you were her favorite officer in town. Do I need to be jealous?”
I let out a short laugh and shrugged. “I would be if I were you, then again every other woman in town says you’re her favorite, so you have that on me.” Xander was charming and very good looking, a fact that made him catnip for all the single and divorced women of Pilgrim and beyond.
“Not every woman,” he said cryptically, and I wondered who’s face had come to mind to cause that tone. “Where are you headed?”
“The Bread Box for more coffee and probably a pastry. I was out at Blakely’s property through my lunch hour and I need sustenance. Want something?”
He looked like he might say something, but instead, Xander shook his head and sighed. “No, I’m good. I’ll see you at end of shift.”
I didn’t need to be told twice, and I hurried off in the opposite direction towards The Bread Box where the scent of brewing coffee, chocolate and butter mingled in the air, intoxicating me more than any cocktail ever could.
“Damn but that smell never gets old.”
Mara groaned and rolled her eyes at my words. “Don’t start with that again. Please. What’ll it be?”
I flashed a smile at Mara’s scowling face and leaned closer. “Don’t tell me you don’t love the smell of this place.”
Mara shrugged and shook her head. “Of course it smells amazing, I’m not an idiot. I just don’t go around waxing poetic about coffee and sugar. Weirdo.” She flashed a smile and waited in front of the display case while I browsed the pastry offerings.
“Banana bread cupcakes. Two. With nuts.”
“You bet,” she said with a smirk and turned her back to me to make my coffee.
“Ah, Tara. Just the law enforcement officer I was looking for.” Sophie’s voice was too breezy, and her smile too bright to be believable.
“Need to file a missing person’s report? Theft?”
“Funny,” she shot back in a bland tone. “No, I have something better than police work for you. Matches!”
“Oh, great.” My voice was less than enthusiastic, because I’d been dreading this moment since spending an hour, maybe an eternity, on Saturday in the TFL offices. “You could have just emailed them, you know?”
Sophie laughed, drawing a few stares from the midday group gathered at a few tables. “And give you a chance to ignore me? I’m no amateur.”
“Well thanks for letting me know,” I told her and reached for the envelope that I assumed held my matches. Alleged matches, the cynical part of my brain reminded me.
Sophie took a step back, a serious expression on her face. “You promise to look them all over?”
“Yes.”
“And make an informed decision about which date to accept first?”
