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He pushed the button on his radio. “Hey Margo, it’s Cross. What do we have?”
“Mr. Salvatore just called. He caught a couple of shoplifters trying to make it out the door with a cart full of beer.”
Jared chuckled. “Typical Friday night shenanigans. Does he want me to come down there and scare the snot out of them?”
“Actually, he wanted to give you a heads up. One of the kids is Casey. Thought you’d want to handle it.”
Jared’s jaw hardened. “Thanks, Margo. I got it.”
“Ten-four.”
Jared released a heavy sigh as he twisted the key in the ignition. Over the years, his foster parents had taken in dozens of kids. Some, like him, aged out, but still considered the Jeffries' ranch house their home. Others had gone back to their biological parents or been removed from the Jeffries for various reasons. Casey Harlow was the Jeffries' last foster child. They’d had him for five years and, although he’d been a good kid for the most part, Casey’s attitude took a massive turn several months ago. This was the third time Jared had gotten a call to bail him out of a jam. The first time, he’d been caught smoking pot after school. The last time, he’d gone paintballing houses and cars around town. Now, stealing from the local grocery store? Jared tried to keep things under wraps for Karen, but maybe it was time to loop his mom in on everything.
In all honesty, he’d wanted to save her the headache as much as shelter Casey from the trouble. Social Services placed Jared with the Jeffries when he was eight years old and they’d been his only foster home. Most kids went through at least five of them, but Karen was an old hat with traumatized kids. Her husband, Mike, owned a trucking company and drove an eighteen-wheeler, so he wasn’t home much but when he was, he’d always been willing to toss a ball around or play video games. Other families would have called Mike the fun parent.
Jared didn’t remember much about his birth mother, and the memories he did have were better left alone.
Karen tried to be everything Jared needed after his mom left him at a neighbor's and never returned. He’d been a challenge at first, but Karen hadn’t given up on him or backed down. Even when the principal called her in because he’d gotten into another fight, she’d ask Jared what happened as though she might actually believe him when he told her the truth. Jared never started the fights, but he wasn’t afraid to finish them. It was comforting when most adults, upon hearing the words “foster kid” automatically thought you were the cause of trouble, to have someone give you the benefit of the doubt.
Of course, at twelve he’d gone through a rebellious stage. He never wanted a haircut. He loved this old coat he’d found at a yard sale that was two sizes too big and had a hole in the side. And he shot up several inches that winter, outgrowing all his new clothes by December.
If he hadn’t been such a pain in the ass during that winter, he’d have never met Anna Beth that day at the clothing exchange.
He’d never been friends with a girl before, besides his sisters, but Anna Beth’s sweet personality combined with her smart mouth drew him in. His behavior even improved once they started hanging out. Probably why Karen liked Anna Beth so much.
Karen and Mike offered to adopt him but, by the time they’d jumped through every hoop to make him legally available, he’d been fourteen. He’d convinced them that if he stayed in the system, they’d continue getting state money and he’d be able to take advantage of special grants and education programs. Besides, he hadn’t needed a piece of paper to know who his family was.
On his high school graduation night, Karen presented him with a savings account she’d been depositing the state checks into and letting the interest accrue to pay for his education. She taught him to budget while he was in college, then invest what money remained. While most adults his age were drowning in debt, he wasn’t, thanks to everything she taught him.
He owed Karen so much for being a selfless and amazing mother. She’d been dealing with a lot because of Mike’s prostate cancer scare this year and, although he was out of the woods now, they’d been through hell the last few months. Knocking some sense into his punk ass little brother seemed like the least he could do.
Jared parked right next to a cherry red classic Chrysler.
Son of a bitch.
Anna Beth. She was inside the market. What would he say? The likelihood of avoiding her in such a small space? Minuscule.
“Hi, A.B., how've you been? Sorry about being a douche on your wedding day and not talking to you for five years. Mint?”
God, he wasn’t ready for this.
Despite the thirty-degree weather outside, he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants before slipping on his winter gloves. He couldn’t avoid her forever, especially if she was back in town for good. He grabbed his jacket and climbed out, locking the car behind him. He shrugged into the black police coat as he crossed the parking lot and stepped through the electric doors of Snowy Springs Market and Deli. His gaze scanned the front lobby, but there was no Anna Beth.
Maybe he’d actually make it out of here without having to face her yet.
He caught sight of Henry Salvatore ringing up groceries for Tammy Cain. Tammy waved at him as he approached, her jingle bell necklace ringing when she moved. Tammy was what people called "extra." In her early forties
, she never passed up a piece of jewelry or an article of clothing if it sparkled. From the top of her glittery blonde mohawk to her silver snow boots, Tammy’s outfits were always eye-catching and it worked for her.
“Hey, Jared. Whatchu up to?”
Jared winked. “Got a complaint about someone being too fabulous and you’re my prime suspect.”
Tammy’s blue eyes twinkled and she held her wrists out to him. “Oh, does that mean you’re going to use the cuffs on me?”
“If you give me any trouble, you bet.”
In a southern accent, Tammy said, “I do declare, Officer Cross, you’ve made me blush.”
