“How exciting,” the woman said. “By the way, are you single? We have three daughters you might like.”
“I’m afraid that’s more than I can handle, ma’am.”
The woman persisted. “The oldest one is very pretty. I can show you a photo.”
“Sorry, I’m taken,” Blue said, wondering if that was still true.
By noon, Danice had what she wanted, and Blue had a headache. He returned to the station and handed over the microphone. He’d done his duty.
Now that his shift was over, he sat in his cruiser thinking about Jo.
She’d asked him straight out about their future. He’d choked on his words, not because he didn’t want to be together, but because he wanted their engagement to be special.
Romantic. An event to remember.
It sounded silly, even to him, but he wanted to do the asking, just as his father had proposed to his mother. Maybe that was old-fashioned, but that’s who he was. One day, he wanted to tell that story to his son—or his daughter—and have them be proud of him.
He couldn’t explain any of that without sounding like a caveman.
So he’d said the wrong thing, and Jo had walked out. And now, the woman he loved could barely tolerate him.
Worse, Rocky Bay was making his move.
Blue hit the steering wheel. How did he get himself into this mess?
More than a week had passed since the filming, and Blue still couldn’t get time with Jo unless he stopped by the diner. She was usually busy or called away by Candy. Blue figured Jo had set up a warning system for his arrival.
She was smart like that.
Today, Blue’s shift had just finished when his phone buzzed, and he glanced at it. An unknown Chicago area code appeared on the screen.
“Not now,” he muttered to himself, sending the call to voicemail.
He waited. When his phone dinged, he opened the message to play it.
It was Tyrone Jackson, his former lieutenant and now commander. Blue had once served under him. Ty had also been a childhood friend of his older brother Charles and had been one of his pallbearers.
His voice crackled to life on the recording.
“Blue, you old Hollywood sell-out. I saw a clip of you on a reality TV show ad. The island life looks good on you, but I could use you here in Chicago. I’ve got an opening for someone to work on high-profile cases, and I’m desperate to fill the spot. I can’t hire you as a lateral transfer, but I can pull some strings to get you a sweet deal. Call me so we can talk.”
High-profile cases. That’s what Charles had done.
When Blue lived in Chicago, he never thought he’d leave. He hadn’t planned to stay on Crown Island when he arrived. He only needed to clear his head. A year, maybe two, he thought, so he took a civilian position in the police department at first. Soon, the island began to feel like home, especially when he met Jo. He completed the entry requirement and started over as a rookie on the island police force.
He drove home to change for a run on the beach.
As he was about to walk out the door in his new running shoes, the phone rang again. This time, it was his mother. He picked up right away.
“Hi, Ma. Are you okay?”
She seemed bright and happy when she replied, but then she managed a small cough. “I’ll probably be okay, that is. This cough could be anything, you know.”
He wondered about that. “What’s up?”
“Tyrone’s wife told me about the television show, and she sent an ad for it to me. I couldn’t be prouder of you. My son, a TV star.”
“Chief’s orders. It’s one segment, and I’m not doing any more.”
