Lisa Dyson

Prince Charming Wears A Badge


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      She knew of a small hotel in a neighboring town that she could check in to for the night. After breakfast tomorrow, she’d look for a more semi-permanent housing solution, rather than pay daily hotel rates.

      She’d also work on reinforcing her courage.

      * * *

      MONDAY MORNING TYLER GARRETT rubbed his face with both hands, barely able to control the urge to bang his head on his desk as he surveyed his crowded office.

      He was Whittler’s Creek’s Chief of Police, not a financial guru. He had no way of deciphering the mountain of binders and documents that had been packed into boxes and were now taking up much of the walking space in his already cramped office.

      He’d received an anonymous email late last week about discrepancies in the town’s financial records. With no ability to track down where the email had originated, he had immediately requested a court order before the records could be doctored. After Judge Parsons had signed off on it, Tyler had requested the records be brought to his office from a building down the street. He’d never imagined there would be so much paper involved.

      What happened to going digital like the rest of the country?

      Then he considered where he was living. A small town in western Maryland. Even though a few residents commuted to DC or Baltimore, the majority had lived here most of their lives and rarely ventured more than an hour or so away. They preferred to keep their lives simple.

      His phone rang. “Chief Garrett.”

      “Good morning, Chief Garrett. This is Dr. Jeffrey Hammond. I’m a psychologist in Bethesda and I have a court-ordered patient who will be coming to Whittler’s Creek to do her community service. I sent you an email over the weekend with the details.”

      Great. Just what he needed. Another criminal coming to town. “I haven’t gotten to email yet this morning.” He glanced at the banker’s boxes surrounding his desk and shook his head.

      “I understand.” Dr. Hammond went on to give Tyler a few details. “I’m not at liberty to explain too much about Ms. James’s current situation, but she grew up there and still has family in town. I trust that you will provide adequate supervision for her court-ordered community service?”

      “Absolutely.” Ms. James? As in Callie James? If that’s who it was, he hadn’t seen her in years. Not since he’d witnessed her explosive temper the night he’d walked her home from a party. He’d had a huge crush on her, asking her out several times but getting the same negative response from her each time. The night of the party he thought he’d been the luckiest guy in Whittler’s Cove until her true personality revealed itself.

      He fired up his dated desktop computer while Dr. Hammond continued talking.

      “Thank you for understanding and for your discretion.” By the time Dr. Hammond disconnected, Tyler’s computer was finally opening the email program.

      He needed to take a look at the town’s budget and see about new computers. How was he expected to do his job if he couldn’t even check email in a timely fashion?

      He wiped sweat from the back of his neck. The air-conditioning was on the fritz again, too, and the outside temperature on this July morning was already in the low eighties.

      The program finally opened and he found Dr. Hammond’s email. There it was. Callie James. Grew up in Whittler’s Creek and has family issues to deal with.

      No kidding. Callie’s stepsister used to hang out with Tyler’s sister back in high school, and the stepsister had been a terrible influence on Isabelle. Thankfully, the two young women had gone their separate ways after high school.

      Had Callie changed since high school? Obviously not, if she had community service hours to fulfill. According to his sister and what he’d witnessed, Callie could be as mean and nasty as an angry wasp.

      What about physically? Had she let herself go as much as others he’d seen around town? She’d always kept her light blond hair long, allowing it to swing to and fro or weaving it into a thick braid. Was it still long? Did she still twist it around her fingers when she became nervous?

      He remembered her cupid’s-bow lips, shiny with lip gloss. How he’d always wanted to taste her mouth, wondering if she used fruit-flavored gloss like some of the other girls their age. But he’d kept his distance because his sister had always insisted that Callie had an explosive temper. He hadn’t believed it until he’d seen it firsthand.

      Was that what had forced her return to Whittler’s Creek? Had her temper done her in?

      A loud knock on the frame of his office door had him opening his eyes. He hadn’t even realized he’d closed them. “Yes?” he said to the youngest of his three patrolmen on the Whittler’s Creek Police Force.

      “You have a visitor, Chief.” Pete Meyers ran a hand over his bald head. He was only a few years older than Tyler’s thirty, but between losing his hair and being overweight by a good forty pounds, Pete looked older than his years. “Callie something.”

      “Callie James.” She’d come up to the doorway behind Pete.

      Tyler would have recognized her voice without even seeing her.

      Physically, she was everything he remembered and more. She wore a navy suit jacket and matching pencil skirt that stopped a few inches above her knees. Her filmy white blouse had several of the top buttons open to reveal multiple strands of large gold chains around her neck. Her neutral-tan pumps added about four inches to her average height.

      She still had the ability to heat his blood, but he was an adult now and knew better than to get too close to a smoldering fire.

      “Thanks, Pete.” He waved Callie in and rose from his chair. Her deep blue eyes with long lashes gave her an innocent quality. “Have a seat.” He pointed to one of the two beat-up chairs on the other side of his desk. He sat when she did. “I apologize for the heat. The AC repairman was here three times last week, but the system needs to be replaced.” He swallowed, feeling like he was babbling. “I haven’t seen you since high school, Callie. How have you been?”

      She crossed one bare leg over the other. “Pretty good, until I had to come back here.”

      He nodded, forcing his eyes from her legs to her face.

      “What about you? I didn’t realize you were the one I’d be reporting to.” She looked around his cramped office. “What are you doing back here? Weren’t you going to West Point? Planning to make the Army a career?”

      “I left the Army. Plans change.” He didn’t want to get into the details of his own life. That wasn’t why she sat across from him.

      “So you’re the Chief of Police now?”

      “That’s right. For about a year now.” He checked the email again from Dr. Hammond. “It says here you need to perform community service hours. You couldn’t do them where you’re living?”

      “I was going to, but Dr. Hammond thought I should come back here to see my family.”

      “How long has it been?”

      She twisted a lock of her still-long hair. “Eleven years. I guess he figured it would take more than a day trip for me to resolve things to his satisfaction.”

      “Eleven years is a long time to not see your family.” He couldn’t imagine how painful it would be if either of his young daughters someday decided to stay away from him for that long.

      She shrugged. “If I’d been given a choice, I would never have come back.”

      * * *

      WHEN TYLER DIDN’T COMMENT, Callie turned the focus on him. “What about your dad? Is he still living in town?”

      Tyler hesitated and cleared his throat. “He died almost a year and a half ago.”

      Callie leaned forward. “I’m