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When I got into high school, I realized my rule following was a pretty good indication I should go into law enforcement. Plus, my dad was the police chief, and I've never wanted to be anything other than exactly like him.
I pull into my garage, jump out of my truck, and walk into the laundry room that leads into the kitchen. Piper, my fifty-pound mutt, comes bounding into the room to say hello. She's a mix of German Shepherd, lab, and pitbull, and she's my best friend.
I like to think she picked me to be her buddy because one day, I was sitting on my back porch and all of a sudden, this little tan puppy came barreling out of nowhere and started biting my shoe laces.
I took her to the vet to make sure she was healthy and to check if her owner was looking for her. Come to find out, she was a stray the shelter had been trying to catch for months, so I took her in, and she's been my best friend ever since.
That was four years ago, but it seems like it was just last week she bounded into my life.
I sit down on the bench in my laundry room to take off my boots and hang up my tactical belt. Walking into my kitchen, I grab a water bottle from the fridge and let Piper out into the backyard to run around. Most of the time my Friday nights are spent hanging with Piper, but with all the stress over these last few weeks, I'm needing more of a distraction to keep from constantly thinking about the job. I let Piper back in and head upstairs to shower. Throwing on a pair of jeans, a shirt, and my boots, I’m ready to go out.
Driving towards Donna's, I do my best to clear my mind off work so I can have a good night. It's tough with all of the unknowns right now but I do my best.
I pull into the gravel parking lot and see a ton of cars already parked. It shouldn’t be surprising since there’s nowhere else to hang out on the weekend.
I walk in and immediately look for Todd and Megan. It’s not the easiest task because it’s loud and feels like everyone is stacked on top of each other since it’s so crowded, but I finally find them standing at the bar with their heads bent together. They've been together since high school, and even after all this time, they're still just as in love as they were when they were seventeen.
Of course, they also still look exactly the same as they did at seventeen too. Todd's black hair is wavy and he keeps it long on the top and short on the sides. He's tall, standing well over six feet, and is all muscle. His dark brown eyes and sharp features give off a menacing look when in reality, he's the nicest guy. Megan is Todd's opposite in almost every way. She's petite with a soft face, blonde hair, and blue eyes. She's every bit as nice as she looks, and they're the perfect pair.
I've been the third wheel of our group since they first got together and, even though most of the time I don't mind, I do have moments where I wish I had someone to bring along with me when we go out. Unfortunately, living in the same town your whole life gives you limited options on partners. Don't get me wrong, I've dated and had my share of fun, it just gets harder when you only have so many women in your age range to date.
Todd looks up and sees me walking towards them and gives me a wave. "Hey guys," I say as Megan leans in to give me a hug.
"Hi, Cooper. How are you doing with everything? You guys have had a long couple of weeks," she says with a measuring look like she's trying to read my mind and make sure I'm okay.
"It's definitely been one for the books," I say.
"Let’s get him a drink before we pepper him with questions," Todd says, motioning for the bartender to come over while Megan sticks her tongue out at Todd, making me chuckle.
"What can I get ya, Chief?" Cheryl, who's been the bartender at Donna's since we were in high school, asks me. Despite not being in uniform, the town still typically addresses me as my title no matter what I wear or how many times I've asked them not to when I'm not on duty.
"Whatever you have on tap tonight would be great, Cheryl. Thanks." She grabs a glass and pours my drink. As soon as she slides it across the bar, Megan asks, "Anything new on the B and Es?"
Megan's been part of our team since Todd and I graduated from the academy. At this point, she should be deputized which we joke about doing every now and then. She says she'd rather step on nails than do the fitness routine Todd and I go through to stay in shape.
"No, unfortunately, and Westlake's chief is already wound up about needing the extra hands, so they aren't interested in our help solving the cases," I say.
"Well, then it's their problem if they don't want our help," Todd says, shrugging his shoulders.
"Yeah, I guess. It's frustrating because the perp has started escalating. Half the house was smashed with this most recent one. I’m worried they’ll come here when they run out of houses in Westlake.”
"If he does, then we’ll do the jobs we were born to do and hope to God he doesn’t escalate past breaking into empty houses,” Todd says with the strength and conviction I've relied upon for a long time. He's always been the steady rock I can count on no matter what situation we're in.
"Okay, let's talk about something else so we can start enjoying our Friday night," Megan says with a pointed look at both me and Todd.
"Good idea, babe." Todd looks at her with a dopey smile on his face.
"Did you hear someone moved into Dan and Carla Johnson's old house?"
"Oh really? Do you know who it is?" Todd has to lean in so Megan can hear his question over the noise of the bar.
"Their granddaughter, I think, but I don't know what her name is. I was going to stop by this week and see if she needed anything."
"When did she move in?" I ask.
"Sometime on Monday. I saw the moving truck in the driveway, and Mrs. Holliday said she was buying furniture at Matthew's with another woman." Mrs. Holliday is the town’s busy body. If it’s worth knowing, she will have already heard about it and shared it with every person she knows.
"Well, when you go see her, make sure she knows we're around if she needs anything," I say, knowing Megan would've done that whether I told her to or not.
