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Max stopped at the hostess stand. “You can be our contact at the station. If we have issues, we come to you.”
His suggestion had the added benefit of being in line with what my boss wanted. “I can do that.”
Max sobered. “I can’t thank you enough for taking this seriously.”
I nodded. “It’s my job.”
Max shook his head. “You go above and beyond. You take your job seriously and are attentive to the community’s needs.”
“I do my best.” Compliments made me uncomfortable. Saying good-bye, I stepped out into the warm evening.
My job was my life. I felt a sense of purpose being a police officer. It was an attempt to fill the hollow in my gut. The one that represented my past transgressions.
Off duty, I drove home, parking my squad car next to my truck in the driveway. I moved out of town to a place with land and no neighbors so I’d have peace and quiet. I worked hard, but when I was home, I wanted solitude.
Unlocking my front door, I heard the sound of nails on wood as Scout scrambled across the wood floors.
Opening the door, I patted his head and followed him to the back door, where I let him out. He ran to the fence line, sniffing for a squirrel or something. He was the one who greeted me when I came home.
I didn’t need anyone else.
