shook her head again. “I don’t know what’s going on in that mind of yours, but I have a feeling it might not be good.”
Cole flashed a smile that had warmed many a woman’s heart. “Just doin’ my job.”
This time she wasn’t fooled.
Bree hated first days. Cody’s first day of first grade. Sara’s first day as a high school sophomore. David’s first day as a high school senior. Her own first day with the Warm Springs Sheriff’s Department.
While Sheriff Roy Holloway was helpful, her peers weren’t. They didn’t make it difficult for her, but they didn’t make it easy, either.
She arrived home to find Cody almost in tears. He looked at her and declared he hated school.
“We only have a dumb parakeet,” he muttered, with a slight whine to his voice.
“I’ve heard of some smart parakeets,” she offered.
“Not this one.” His eyes plaintively beseeched her. “I want to go back to my old school, Mom.”
“Sweetie, it’s only your first day,” she murmured. “You have to give it time.”
He shook his head.
Bree looked at her stepson and stepdaughter. They didn’t look all that happy, either.
“Don’t tell me you only have parakeets in your class, too,” she said lightly. Her joke fell flat.
David was tight-lipped about his day. Sara announced she was going to her room.
“And how was your day, Bree?” she asked herself as she checked the casserole she’d popped in the oven as soon as she got home. “Just fine. Thank you for asking. The sheriff is an okay guy, but I can’t say much for everyone else. The deputies treat me as if I carry the dreaded plague, and the dispatcher informed me she’s allergic to dogs.” Bree pulled out makings for a salad and began tearing a head of lettuce into pieces. “Now I learn that Cody’s convinced everyone hates him. David hates his school and Sara is positive she won’t make any new friends. How do I know that’s how they’re feeling, when they haven’t said a word to me? Easy. I’m a detective. I read minds.” Her movements were almost violent as she tossed a variety of vegetables into the bowl.
When the phone rang, she snagged it before the first ring faded away.
She glanced at her caller ID and noticed it listed Warm Springs Bulletin as the caller.
“Fitzpatrick.”
“Detective Fitzpatrick? I’m Cole Becker with the Warm Springs Bulletin.” A man’s lazy drawl drifted across her mind the way a soft comforter covered her body. “Welcome to our fair town.”
Bree felt a tingle begin deep inside her body and move upward. She wasn’t sure if it was warm in the kitchen or just her. She feared it was all her.
“Thank you,” she said warily.
“I was wondering if there was any possibility we could get together?”
“Why?” she asked.
“I’d like to interview you for the newspaper. See how you feel being Warm Springs’s first female detective. What prompted you to move to Warm Springs. Human interest stuff,” he explained.
Stuff? He didn’t sound like any reporter she’d ever come across.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Becker.” She didn’t sound the least bit apologetic. “But right now, I’m in the midst of fixing dinner.”
“How about we talk over breakfast tomorrow?”
“I like to have breakfast with my kids.”
“Lunch? They’ll be in school then, right?”
She gave him points for figuring that one out.
“This isn’t a good time, Mr. Becker. I’m still settling in.” She wasn’t about to tell him she hated interviews. People usually spelled her name wrong or made her sound as if she was an avenging angel with PMS. “No free time at all.”
“I’m sure you are busy, Detective. But wouldn’t you want the people to know about the woman behind the badge? Show them that while you’re wearing that badge and carrying a gun, you’re still a mom and a human being?”
“Not my style,” she retorted.
“Then why don’t we talk about something that is your style,” he suggested. “Something I think you’d like to know.”
Bree felt a familiar tingle at the base of her neck. She’d never ignored the warning signal before, and a few times it had even saved her life.
How could something happen in this small town when she was barely unpacked? She could feel her jaw tightening. She didn’t know what was going on, but felt this was more than a request for an interview.
“Tomorrow. Lunch. One o’clock,” she rattled. “I’ll leave the choice of restaurant up to you. I haven’t learned which ones are better than others.”
“Then I’ll make it easy for you. Two doors down from you is The Eatery. I’ll see you there at one.” He hung up.
Bree stared at her phone before she set it back in the cradle. “It’s not as if you’re marrying the man, Bree. Just think of it as a free meal,” she murmured as she turned to the oven when the timer dinged. “Dinner!” she called out.
Instead of the clatter of three sets of feet that normally followed her announcement, three quiet souls marched into the kitchen. They started to take their seats, then instantly rose up in response to their mom’s telling stare.
Sara headed for the refrigerator and pulled out the bottles of salad dressing. Cody filled glasses with iced tea and milk, while David carried the casserole dish over to the table.
Bree pasted on a bright smile as she sat down. “So, tell me about your day,” she urged in her best June Cleaver voice.
They all looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“So Cole Becker’s going to interview you today?” Roy grinned at Bree’s look of astonishment. “No secrecy in this town, Fitzpatrick. Someone asked about you when I stopped for coffee. You’ll have to get used to everyone knowing your business.”
“I should have cleared it with you first,” she said uneasily, silently damning Cole Becker to hell. “He said it’s purely a human interest type story about the new arrival in town.”
“Don’t worry about it, Fitzpatrick,” the sheriff replied. “Becker’s like one of those bloodhounds who refuses to give up. Believe me, if you hadn’t agreed to the interview, he would have found another way. He’s one persistent son of a bitch,” he said without rancor.
“You don’t need to worry about my saying anything I shouldn’t. I’ve dealt with the press in the past without any dire consequences,” she assured him. Her stomach
