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That was an understatement. If any of his science teachers had been as sexy as her, he may have ended up a Nobel Prize–winning biochemist. “You’re sure not like any of the ones I had.”
“To be fair, you’re not exactly how I’d pictured the chief of police of a remote island to look.”
“What would you expect?”
“Umm... A sixty-five-year-old with gray hair and a fishing pole?”
“You just described the guy I replaced,” he admitted. “But I don’t have the patience for fishing. I’m more of a pickup-basketball fan myself.”
“So, Kobe, is there a lot of call for police chiefing here on the island?”
“We have our fair share of crime, you know.”
“Hotbed of criminal activity, is it?”
“Some gang stuff going on.” Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. Chuckling, he added, “A gang of nine-year-olds went into the general store and swiped candy bars on a dare.”
“I take it they weren’t armed?”
“Only with loud whines and lots of crocodile tears when they got caught.”
“Did you arrest them?”
“Nah, I let them off with a warning. Their parents were so mad, I have no doubt those kids won’t do it again.”
“What about me? Are you going to let me off with a warning, or are you going to give me a ticket?”
“Trying to decide. Should I cite you for going the wrong way, stealing my gloves or telling an officer of the law to shut up?”
She must have recognized the teasing note in his voice, because a soft laugh gurgled from her mouth. “Sorry about that.”
“S’okay. You might have been trying to decipher your messy writing, but the truth is, the sign’s also a bit hidden by some overgrown bushes.” She glanced back again, and he did, too, barely making out the sign. He hadn’t been exaggerating. “I’ll get somebody from the town maintenance crew to come out and trim the bushes. I guess the crew’s not prepared for newcomers who don’t know their way around so early in the spring.”
“Thanks, though I should have seen it, even if the underbrush is a bit overgrown.”
“Let me hit the lights and siren and turn you around so you don’t get beaned by a truck while you get to the correct side of the loop. Then I’ll lead you to your new home.”
He wondered if she would argue, but she must have still been light-headed from her water voyage since she didn’t. That was good. Not only because the roads were twisty and, in some cases, made no sense, but also because of the possible condition of her cottage. He didn’t know Lindsey well, but he sure didn’t want to think about her walking in the door and getting a faceful of spiderweb or a lungful of dusty air.
Jogging back to his SUV, he switched on the siren and light again then swung around, watching as she did the same. He led her the short distance to the fork, turned down the correct side and easily found his way to her new place. He had only lived on Wild Boar for a few months, but he was already familiar with just about every inch of it. There weren’t very many inches, after all.
Pulling up in front of the old Wymer place, which was now empty since the elderly owner had moved in with her equally elderly, also-widowed sister in town, he drove around to the small cottage in the back of the property. The sisters clearly hadn’t given much thought to the condition of the place. Weeds choked the front garden, and the small fence lining the cobbled walkway sagged, as if on the verge of collapse. Paint was peeling off the cottage’s siding, and the front door was pitted and sorely in need of a coat of wood stain.
Lindsey pulled up next to him and got out of her car, her shoulders slumping as she eyed what would be her home for the next couple of months. “Well, it’s not exactly as I pictured it.”
“Couldn’t you stay at your friend’s house while she’s gone? Isn’t she staying somewhere near the hospital on the mainland close to her baby?”
“Yes, but her husband works here, and he’ll be at home most work nights. I barely know him. It would be really awkward.”
That did pose a problem.
“Maybe it’s not so bad inside,” she said.
He heard a note of optimism in her voice and didn’t have the heart to disagree. Hoping she was right, he pushed open the creaky gate and walked up onto the porch, the boards of which sank beneath his feet with every step. “Dry rot,” he said. “Be careful coming in and out of this place.”
She nodded. “Mrs. Wymer said the key is under the mat.”
“Let’s hope that part of the porch hasn’t collapsed and the mat’s not covering a giant hole,” he said, bending to check. Fortunately, the flooring was still intact and the key was in place. Retrieving it, he rose and unlocked the door. “Why don’t you let me go in first? I can’t say for sure there are wild animals in there, but I wouldn’t be surprised if a raccoon or some squirrels had made a home out of your cottage.”
