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Glancing down, I can tell he’s part bloodhound from his long ears and droopy cheeks. He’s black and tan, and he looks like a good dog. I give his head a pat.
Town offices are technically closed on Sundays, but I always come in to be sure everything’s calm. Holly Newton, our dispatcher, must’ve called Doug about the sign, because he normally goes to church. I pretty much let all that God stuff go the way of fairy tales and magic when my wife died. Finding that stack of love letters further solidified my position on the matter.
“I didn’t intend to come to the office today.” Britt’s voice carries through the empty space. “I'd have dressed differently.”
“I didn’t even know you were joining the team.” Doug’s shoulders bounce with his laugh. “I guess it’s classified information.”
Returning to the main office, I level my gaze on them. “Edna thought we could use some extra hands with all that’s been happening lately. She was supposed to let me know your ETA.”
Britt gives me another cautious smile. “They made it sound like an emergency, so I put in a request for leave.”
“In that case, you can start tomorrow, eight a.m.” My tone is clipped. “After that, you and Doug can sort out your days off. I’m here every day, but if nothing’s happening, I don’t expect you to work more than five days a week.”
“I like my Sundays off.” Doug shrugs. “Otherwise, I’m flexible.”
“What if you take Sunday off, and I’ll take Saturday?” Her tone brightens.
They do a little high-five, and I clear my throat. “Just work the other day out a few weeks in advance, so I know what to expect.”
“Yes, sir, Sheriff.” Doug salutes, clearly feeling his oats with a pretty young woman in the office. He’s never so chipper.
“And Britt.” I nod briefly at her torso. “You’re one of us now. You’ll need to think about how you appear in public.”
Her face flames bright red, and she blinks quickly, which I’m picking up is something she does when she’s nervous or flustered.
Still, a touch of defiance is in her reply. “I know the proper dress code for my job.”
“Good.” She’s not made of glass, and I’m the boss. “I wasn’t sure what to think about your choices. The last time we spoke, you said you were never coming back to Eureka.”
Her shoulders straighten, and she puts her hands on her hips. “As I’m sure you know, Sheriff Stone, I wasaskedto come back to Eureka because your department couldn’t handle the workload. I’ll stay until my help is no longer needed.”
My smile tightens, and I cross my arms. “Are you making a comment about the quality of my team?”
She smiles sweetly, but the sass hasn’t left her tone. “Not at all. I’m here because the mayor, my grandmother, asked me for a favor, and I think as we get older, we realize the importance of family and making time for the people we love.”
“So you came back for your family?” I’m not liking the sound of this. I’d thought she was the sane one.
“Of course. It’s important to help our loved ones when they need us.”
My brow lowers. “Depending on the outcome.”
Silence descends on the room and Doug looks from Britt to me and back again. “Did anyone call Bud? We need to get that truck off the street before church lets out. We might even need to have the utility company check that pole.”
“Thanks, Doug. I’ll let you handle it. I’ve got to pick up Owen from Sunday school.” I turn and start for the door. “Call me if you need anything. And, Miss Bailey?”
“Yes, Sheriff?” Our eyes strike like flint, and even if I don’t like it, my stomach heats in response.
“I’ll see you in the morning, dressed to work a crime scene.”
“I’ll be ready.”
* * *
“Whose truck crashedinto the light pole?” Owen is on his knees looking out the window of my truck at Bud’s towing operation in progress.
His dark hair is brushed neatly, and he’s dressed in a light-blue, short-sleeved shirt with a clip-on tie and khakis. Even if I don’t attend, my mother taught me how to dress for church.
“It belongs to my new forensic photographer,” I grumble under my breath.
