Page 2 of Blue-Eyed Hero


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“I know, but I think the citizens of Willow Cove will thank me for it later.”

“Very funny.”

“Besides, don’t you have a meeting with the mayor today?”

“I do.” He would be going over his budget and trying to find a way to kindly ask her for an increase.

“Then consider this a good luck cookie.”

He took the bag and held it up. “Thanks.”

“Anytime. Now you better run. She looks distracted at the moment.” Cami nodded toward the boardwalk.

Without a glance in Allison’s direction, Reid hurried out of the coffee shop and straight to his cruiser. He put the cookie on the seat beside him, took a sip of his coffee, then headed for the station.

Ten minutes later, he was in his office, going through incident reports and trying to determine if he had the budget to up the patrols along the boardwalk. Curiosity tugged at his gut, though, so despite his resolve, he clicked on the local news.

Sonny St. Clair, the local weather guy, pointed to a map, declaring clear skies for the next few days.

Great. Most people loved clear skies and sunshine, but for Reid, it meant the perfect weather for people to do stupid things. “Back to you, Sandra.”

The forty-year veteran smiled at the camera. Her hair and makeup were perfect as always. At sixty-three, the woman still had the spark that most likely got her in that chair in the first place. “Thank you, Sonny. We’re going to go to the boardwalk where Allison Winters is reporting live. Allison?”

Reid finished his coffee, tossing the cup into the garbage beside his desk. Allison came onto the screen, her eyes locked onto the camera as if they were staring into his soul. Her lips parted, and his mind drifted to the boardwalk, reminding him of the scent of coconut. He wondered if she’d taste as good as she smelled.

“Fucking hell.” He thrust his hand through his hair.

“Thank you, Sandra,” Allison’s voice grabbed his attention. “I am here on the main boardwalk of Willow Cove after an altercation broke out in the early morning hours, involving two men who were under the influence. I was assured by our local sheriff there were no injuries, but it still begs the question. How safe is our boardwalk for the children?”

Reid’s eyes widened, and he jumped from his chair, slamming his hand on the desk. Pain radiated through his arm, but it had nothing on the fury rushing through his blood in a heated rage.

“With the first official weekend of summer only a week away, how can we guarantee the safety of the community when the bars close and the police are nowhere to be found? Must we not forget it was less than two months ago when I was held at gunpoint at one of our local hangouts. And not even a month since one of our locals had her car vandalized by angry trolls.”

Reid jabbed his hand toward the TV, ramming his finger into the off button, before throwing the remote across the small space. “I’m going to kill her!”

Judy, one of his deputies, poked her head into his office. “Everything okay, boss?” It was a nickname she started calling him when he told her not to call him sheriff or worse, by his last name.

His jaw tightened, and he attempted to take a calming breath. “If you get a call later about me committing murder, it’s not a prank.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, and he knew she was thinking of a witty reply, but he’d clearly caught her off guard. “Want me to disinfect the cell in anticipation for your arrival?”

“That’d be nice. Thanks.” He grabbed his keys and stormed toward the door.

“Hey boss,” Judy called.

“Yeah?” He stopped and turned toward the three-year deputy who still had stars in her blue eyes. “Don’t kill anyone.”

“No promises,” he said and headed straight for his cruiser.

Chapter 2

Back at the studio, Allison sat at her desk and flipped through the stack of fan mail. Usually it was older women trying to set her up with their sons, grandsons, or whoever they had in their family, but still, she got a kick out of them and always made sure to send a handwritten note with a thanks but no thanks. Without her fans, she’d be a nobody, and she knew that. Though, there were also the heartless souls who ripped her to shreds on social media, pointing out every blemish, split end, and whatever else they could pick apart. Those lovely people also gave her the despised nickname of “the babbler” since she apparently over talked in interviews. Whatever. She was just making the interviewee comfortable, and it worked.

She ignored the naysayers for the most part, but she couldn’t help but check her social media, searching those comments out. Sometimes she liked to heart the comment or leave a simple thank you just to show them no matter what they said, they wouldn’t break her spirit.

Deciding against social media, she stuck with the envelopes, opening the first one on top and laughing when Marla from Crescent Lane invited her to a Memorial Day cookout to meet her nephew. She put the letter aside into the need-to-respond pile. Next was a letter from some creep telling her how hot she was. That letter went into the do-not-respond pile—aka the garbage.

The next envelope didn’t have a return address. She turned it over and slid her envelope opener under the flap. The white paper was ripped into a small square. The words were typed which wasn’t completely uncommon, but not her norm.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com