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 with a vengeance lately,” he admitted. “I’ll be honest with you, Fitzpatrick—I’m not one for surprises. I like to know what’s going on in my department. I like to do my own hiring.”
“I had no idea,” Bree said honestly.
“You’ve got some heavy hitters in your corner, however.” He glanced at the file folder lying open on his desk. “A kennel has been set up near the parking lot for the dog.” He fixed her with a piercing stare. “It’s your job to keep it clean.”
“Of course,” she said without hesitation.
Lieutenant Carlson had said she would be better off in a small town, where she wouldn’t be up against the kinds of violent cases she’d handled in L.A. He hadn’t said anything about her new boss not being entirely happy with her arrival there. Still, he was friendlier than most would be in this situation.
“Since you’ve already got the training, I’ll just throw you into the shark pool,” he told her. “Fine by you?”
“The only way to do it,” she replied.
Roy nodded. “But let me tell you. You screw up and I come down hard. I don’t care if you do have a dog that can eat me for breakfast.” He warily eyed the German shepherd. “Literally.”
“Jinx hasn’t bitten an officer in, oh, at least a month,” she said, matching his tone.
He chuckled. “How’d a deputy K-9 end up with a name like Jinx?”
“He comes from a distinguished line of police dogs,” she replied. “His sire is Ace, as in Ace of Spades. His dam is Allie, as in Poker Alice. The litter Jinx was in was born on Friday the thirteenth. Each puppy received a similar name. The breeder’s twisted logic.”
“And he left L.A. when you did.”
“It happens a lot. When you work with a dog as your partner, you develop as close a relationship as you do with a human partner. In many ways, closer.”
Roy’s eyes tracked her every feature. “Then you’ll understand that we’re a close unit here, Detective. We’ve all worked together a long time.”
“And new people have to prove their worth before they can hope to be accepted,” she stated, finishing his thought. “I understand that. I believe in pulling my weight.”
“Good.” He stood up. “I’ll show you your desk.”
Bree didn’t say a word when she was led to a battered desk stuck in a corner. Roy rattled off names as he