finding two schools that are all of two blocks apart in a town that’s, what? Three blocks total?” he muttered, taking his own dishes over to the dishwasher. He may have been angry with his stepmother for the move, but he was responsible enough to not ignore his chores.
Bree took whatever small favors she could get. She looked at her stepson and saw her husband in the handsome features that she knew would one day be stamped with his sire’s character. All these months, they’d dealt with anger over Fitz’s death. Then they’d moved from a city they’d lived in all their lives. Abandoned friends, familiar places. She told herself the old cliché about time healing all wounds. She was learning about patience.
Although David never said a word, she knew he had to be hurt and angry that he left behind his football team during his all-important year. And he registered at his present school too late to try out for football. He’d muttered he’d try out for the baseball team and she hoped he would.
She handed Cody’s backpack to him, verified that all three children had lunch money, and herded Cody into her Expedition, with Jinx, her K-9, hopping into the back seat. The German shepherd sat down with his tongue lolling happily in anticipation of the ride.
“If I stayed in my old school I would have Mrs. Allen for my teacher,” Cody said with a sigh. “She lets her class do really neat things. And her class has a hamster and two guinea pigs.”
Bree hurt because she knew Cody hurt. She was aware this move was the hardest on her youngest, who was just beginning first grade. She’d hoped that moving here a couple weeks before the beginning of the school year would help. Instead she’d battled with three kids who constantly complained that their new house wasn’t like their old house and there was no one to hang out with. Since his older brother and sister weren’t interested in doing anything he wanted to do, Cody was on his own most of the time, and suffered the most.
Bree wasn’t worried about Sara and David getting along in school. The two siblings never had a problem making friends. They’d complain about the area, but in time she knew they’d easily fit into a group. It was Cody, quiet and shy, who had difficulty in new situations. Even more so since his father’s death.
“I understand that your teacher here, Miss Lancaster, is very nice,” she said. “I also heard that her class does a lot of neat things. They take a lot of field trips. Maybe she has a hamster in her room, too.”
“Not like Harry Hamster,” he whispered, his lower lip trembling.
He still didn’t look convinced things were great by the time Bree stopped the vehicle in front of the sprawling building that housed classrooms for kindergarten through the sixth grade.
“Do you remember where your classroom is? Would you like me to walk in with you?” she asked.
He looked out the window at the kids milling about. When he turned back to her, his small face was set in a determined look she wryly recalled seeing on her own at times. His rusty-colored hair had been combed before they left the house, but it was already unruly. She tamped down the urge to smooth it back with her hand.
“I’m not a little kid, Mom,” he replied with little-boy dignity. “I go to room 108.”
She didn’t dare sniff, much less cry, the way she had on Cody’s first day in kindergarten. It would mortify him.
“Don’t forget that David will pick you up after school,” Bree reminded him.
“Don’t talk to strangers. If anyone tries to talk to me, run to a teacher and tell ’em,” he recited. “Or yell really loud. And stand by the front door of the school until I see David.”
Bree swallowed the lump in her throat. And swallowed the need to hug him tightly and kiss him. Which he would only rebuff for fear that his classmates would see her display of affection.
She settled on a basic mom statement. “Be good.”
For all of Cody’s bravado, he was still exceedingly slow in opening the door and climbing out of the SUV. As he stepped onto the sidewalk, he paused long enough to turn and offer a brave smile and wave.
Bree waited until Cody was safely inside the building. Then it was her turn, and she headed for the Warm Springs Sheriff’s Department.
“Hope you’re ready, fella,” she told her K-9 partner as she parked in the department’s parking lot. She paused long enough to loop his chain collar around his neck, complete with a deputy’s shield attached to it.
Since detectives weren’t required to wear a uniform, she had chosen coffee-colored linen pants and a matching vest, paired with a cream-colored, short-sleeved blouse. Her detective’s shield was clipped to her waistband, and her weapon, settled in a holster against the small of her back, was hidden by the three-quarter-length-sleeve, coffee-colored linen jacket. For easy care, she kept her bright auburn hair layered in short waves, tucked behind her ears. Jinx walked regally at her side.
“Good morning, Detective Fitzpatrick.” The office receptionist greeted her with a small smile. The nameplate pinned on her chest revealed her name to be Irene. Like the deputies in the station, she wore a navy polo shirt and khaki pants. “I’ll let Sheriff Holloway know you’re here.” She eyed Jinx warily, as if she wasn’t sure Bree’s four-footed partner was safe. “We’ve never had a dog here before.”
“Jinx is a full-fledged sheriff’s deputy,” Bree reminded her.
“Detective Fitzpatrick?”
Bree turned and faced her superior. He, too, was dressed in a navy polo shirt, and his khaki pants had a razor-sharp crease. His dark brown boots were so highly polished she imagined he could use the surface as a mirror. She’d say Roy Holloway was a man who valued his image. She’d even say he was good-looking, with his broad smile, his blue eyes holding a touch of humor. She doubted he was a pushover, though. He looked like he had what it took to keep his people in line. He held out his hand.
“Sheriff Holloway.” She smiled as she put her hand in his. “I’m sorry we weren’t able to meet the last time I was here. I understand you and your family were on vacation then.”
“Relaxing at my favorite fishing hole,” he admitted. His eyes dropped to the dog sitting by her side, and again he grinned. “I’m not used to seeing a deputy with four legs.”
She grinned back. “He would have been perfect if I could have trained him to drive.”
Roy chuckled. “Come on back to my office and we’ll talk.” He jerked his head toward the rear of the building.
Bree murmured a command to Jinx, who moved smoothly alongside her. As they walked toward the sheriff’s office, she noticed that the men seated at desks were watching her with undisguised interest.
“Have a chair,” Roy invited, as he settled behind his desk.
Bree took the one opposite, with Jinx sitting sedately on his haunches beside her.
“I’m going to be up front with you,” her boss said crisply, all-business now. “I didn’t think we needed another detective. This county is growing, but I wasn’t thinking of adding anyone to the force just yet.”
“Token female detective?” she said lightly.
“Probably. They’ve gotten on the politically correct bandwagon
