the carton, she’d have someone she could talk things out with, someone to share her fears and frustrations with.
But letting someone into her life, relying on him like that, was too big a risk. She’d let her emotions carry her away once, and look how well that turned out. No, she needed to keep doing what she was doing and leave the idea of romance alone. She wasn’t any good at it, and she couldn’t afford to make that kind of mistake again.
Alex was still shaking his head over Mrs. Rosenberg’s sign-up shenanigans ten hours later. And puzzling over the intriguing veterinarian, despite the way she’d blown him off. She was fire and ice, and definitely not interested, but he couldn’t quite get her out of his head. Between her and Mrs. Rosenberg, the island definitely had its share of headstrong women.
He’d spent the long night patrolling the quiet streets of Paradise and the connecting highway across the bridge, alone except for Rex and his own thoughts. He was grateful for the lack of crime, but the slow shift gave him too much time to think, too much time to remember the chain of events that had brought him here. Not that this was a bad place to be.
When he’d accepted the position with the Palmetto County Sheriff’s Department, he’d expected to be working at the county headquarters in Coconut Bay. Instead he’d been assigned to the small substation serving Paradise. The island was too small to support a city police force, so it, like some of the rural ranching areas across the bridge on the mainland, was under county law enforcement.
As dawn approached, he made a last loop along the beach road to catch the sunrise over the ocean. Stopping in one of the many parking spaces that bordered the dunes, he got out and stretched, his neck popping loudly. At Rex’s insistence, he opened the back door as well, snapping the dog’s leash on and walking him to a grassy area to relieve himself. When the dog had emptied his bladder, they strolled together to one of the staircases that led down to the sand.
Here he had an unobstructed view of the water and the already pink sky that seemed to melt along the horizon, the water turning a molten orange as the fiery sun crept up to start the day. Sipping from the lukewarm coffee he’d picked up a few hours ago at a gas station on the mainland, he let himself enjoy the quiet. No jarring static from the two-way radio, no traffic, just the soft sound of the waves rolling on the sand and Rex’s soft snuffling as he investigated the brush along the stairway.
Alex had made a habit of doing this since he moved here. In the clear morning light, he could feel good about himself, his job, the direction his life was taking. The fresh start to the day was a reminder of his own fresh start, one that he hadn’t asked for, but probably needed.
He was over thirty now, as his mother never failed to remind him. Maybe here he’d find a life beyond his work. He wasn’t a family man; nothing in his background had prepared him for that kind of life, but a place like Paradise made him want to settle down a bit, make some friends, maybe join a softball team or something.
Chuckling at the image, he turned to go. Rex, trained to stay with him, uncharacteristically resisted the tug on the leash. Maybe he was tired, too.
“Here, boy! Come on, it’s quitting time. Let’s go.”
The dog stood his ground, whiskers trembling as he stared into the dark space under the steps.
“What it is it, boy?” Alex found himself lowering his voice, catching the dog’s mood. He was no dog whisperer, but obviously there was something under the stairs. Something more than the broken bottles and fast-food wrappers that sometimes got lodged there.
“Is somebody there?”
There was a scrambling sound, but no answer.
Rex whined, the hairs on his back standing up in a ridge. Feeling a bit silly, but not willing to take a chance, Alex removed his Glock from its holster, finding confidence in its weight even as he sent a silent prayer he wouldn’t have to use it. Crouching down, he aimed his flashlight under the wooden structure, his gun behind it. He couldn’t see anyone, but there was an alcove under a support beam that was hidden from his light. He’d have to go around.
He circled around to the other side, leaving Rex pacing back and forth at the foot of the stairs. Repeating his crouch and waddle move from before, Alex inched up under the overhang, scanning the area with his light. Nothing.
Woof!
Alex jumped, rapping his head on the rough boards of the stairway. A lightning bolt of pain shot through his skull as he quickly crab-crawled back out of the cramped space beneath the stairs. He heard Rex bark again and rolled the rest of the way out, careful to keep the gun steady.
“What is it, boy?”
A quick series of staccato barks answered him from the landing above.
“Stop! Sheriff’s Deputy.” The logical part of his mind knew that it was probably just a kid sneaking a smoke or a surfer who had passed out after too many drinks, but he’d had more than one close call in his career and wasn’t going to chance it. Standing up, cursing the sand spurs now embedded in his skin, he followed the dog’s line of sight.
There, clearly visible in the breaking dawn, was the menace that had his dog, and him, so worked up. A tiny kitten, barely more than a ball of fluff, was huddled against the top step.
“Rex, hush!” he commanded, not wanting the big dog to scare it back under the stairs. He was not going into those sand spurs again if he could help it.
The kitten was gray, its fur nearly the same shade as the weathered boards he was clinging to. If Rex hadn’t made such a fuss, the kitten could have been directly underfoot and Alex would have missed it. Putting the dog into a down-stay, he dropped the leash and tucked away the gun and flashlight. Then he eased up the stairs as quietly as his heavy boots would allow.
The kitten watched him, eyes wide, but didn’t run. A small mew was its only reaction, and even that seemed half-hearted. The pathetic creature looked awfully weak. The temperature was only in the mid-forties right now and had been significantly colder overnight. Plenty of strays did just fine, but this one seemed way too small to be out in the cold on its own.
Scooping the kitten up, he cradled it against his chest with one hand, then leaned down and retrieved Rex’s leash with the other. The kitten was trembling, obviously cold if nothing else. Loading Rex into the car, he mentally said goodbye to the sleep he’d intended to catch up on. It looked like he was going to be seeing that pretty veterinarian again after all.
Cassie stared at the teakettle with bleary eyes, as if she could make the water boil faster through sheer force of will. She’d tossed and turned again last night. Maybe at some point she’d get used to the nightmares.
She often dreamed about the accident that had left her father in the hospital and herself with a mild concussion and a mountain of worry. At first, they’d feared her father’s injuries were permanent, but he was home now and steadily getting better. She’d hoped that would be enough to stop the dreams from haunting her. But so far, no such luck.
But last night the dream had changed. The broken glass and screeching tires were the same as always, brought back in minute detail to terrorize her, but
