Page 31 of Abandoned

“Yes.” She gripped his elbow. “Thanks for getting the rolling pin out of her hand.”

He chuckled. “Just glad it didn’t hit me in the process.”

“Me too.” The sparkle in her eyes almost undid him.

But he kept himself together and professional. “I’ll take care of her if you want to get back to patrols.”

“I think I’ll stick around here a little longer. At least walk the neighborhood before I leave.”

“If you insist, but be careful.”

“I will.”

With reluctance, he left her behind and took Rainie to lockup.

Zara’s lungs hurt from the coughing fit, but she didn’t want to tell Will how much. The inhaler helped tremendously. She walked down the road, which was barely wide enough for two cars to pass without hitting one another. It wound its way through the trailer park.

She approached the mobile home where Miley and Corbin lived. Keeping her distance, she kept an eye out to see if Brett was home. If he was, she would avoid the home for now, but if he wasn’t, maybe she’d check in with Miley and see how they were doing.

The door opened, and Miley stepped out.

Zara waved.

Miley smiled and returned the wave. “Hey!”

Zara crossed the road and strode over to the porch. “How are you doing?”

“We’re well. Would you like a glass of lemonade?”

“Sure. It is crazy hot out here.”

“Especially with all that gear y’all wear. Come on in.” Miley motioned for Zara to join her inside.

Zara climbed the stairs and entered the small home.

Corbin played on the floor with a bin of Matchbox cars. When he spotted Zara, his face lit up.

“Hey, bud.” Zara knelt beside the boy, and he handed her a little Mustang. “This is such a great car. Which one is your favorite?”

He held up a red Chevy.

“That’s a good one too.”

Miley poured two glasses of lemonade, brought them into the living room, and handed one to Zara.

“Thank you so much. So how has Brett been since his night at the station last week?”

“Fine.” Miley set the glass down and covered Corbin’s ears. “He hasn’t hit me again.” She let go of her son, who wiggled away.

“I’m glad to hear that. Be sure you call if he does. Or if you need anything at all.”

“I’m sure it was a fluke. He’s such a nice guy otherwise. He’s been good to Corbin. Bought him these cars. Gets him one a week if he’s good.”

“How old are you, Corbin?”

The boy looked up. “Four.” He held four little fingers in the air, his thumb tucked down, not quite touching his palm.

Old enough to remember hiding in his closet for the rest of his life. Her first memory of hiding in the closet was when she was only three.