A Small-Town Girl. Shelley Galloway

a little straighter now that her hand was firmly encased in Brian’s.

      Finally a police cruiser appeared.

      Cary stood motionless when he saw who’d come to help them out.

      Officer Gen Slate.

      THE SCENE THAT greeted Gen was oddly familiar. Here in Lane’s End—just as it had been in Beckley—everyone’s business was cause for discussion. A whole crowd of kids gathered in front of a row of fifties-style ranch houses. Cary, a diminutive blonde and a really tall kid in sweats were in the middle of it all. Everyone looked to be talking at once.

      Just as she was about to approach them, yet another car pulled up. An attractive man in a button-down shirt, jeans and the same dark-brown eyes as Cary’s got out of his sedan. After hugging the girl, as well, he slapped the tall kid on the shoulder. Then, they all turned to Gen.

      “Glad you’re here, Officer,” the man—likely Cary’s brother considering the resemblance—said after examining the Civic. “Someone really did a number on my daughter’s tires.”

      “It definitely looks that way,” Gen said as she quickly jotted down a record of her first impressions. “Any idea why someone would deliberately do this?”

      The girl glanced at her friends before turning to Gen. “No.”

      Just as Gen was wondering how to send the kids home without alienating the lot of them, Cary stepped forward.

      “Guys, if you don’t have information to contribute, you all better get on home.”

      “I’m not leaving,” the tall kid—Brian—said.

      “I can stay, too,” a freckle-faced boy added, casting an almost wistful look toward Melissa.

      Gen watched Cary’s niece meet the boy’s gaze before turning her head away, pink staining her cheeks.

      “Go on home, Jimmy,” Brian said. “Melissa’s fine with me.”

      Jimmy shook his head. “Listen—”

      Just as Gen was going to step in, Cary took control. “Brian, go ahead and stay. Melissa needs you. Everyone else, why don’t you let Melissa call you later?”

      Miraculously most of the kids listened and, with a few parting words to Melissa, went on their way.

      Gen tapped her pen again. “Let’s start from the top. I’ll take your statements and some pictures. If I need anything else, I’ll stop by tomorrow. It’s getting late and I’m sure everyone’s ready to go inside.”

      As Gen had hoped, her calm, direct manner soothed the girl’s nerves. Melissa stepped away from Brian and answered Gen’s questions, only pausing once or twice for her dad to add information.

      There wasn’t much to go on. Genevieve suspected Melissa’s Civic was just a victim of a random prank, but she would look into it.

      Within the hour, Brian went home, Melissa and her dad headed inside and Gen and Cary were left alone.

      “Thanks for coming out,” he said as she started toward her car. “Melissa was pretty upset.”

      “Don’t thank me—it’s my job,” she quipped before she realized just how unfeeling she sounded.

      His mouth tightened into a fine line. “Oh. Well. I guess it is.”

      “Well, um, like I said, I’ll file this report and call back if I find out anything.” She opened her car door, feeling stupid for being so uptight.

      “Call Dean. He’s her father.”

      “I…I was planning on it.”

      She was about to add more, anything to recreate the warmth in his gaze from the coffee shop. A howl directed her attention to Cary’s fence, where a tricolor beagle, almost the exact replica of Sadie, watched them both.

      She stepped forward. “Is that Sludge?”

      After a second, Cary grinned. “Yep.”

      Sludge howled again.

      Gen was charmed. Beagles, she could relate to. Approaching the fence, she held out her hand. “Hi, Sludge.” When Sludge tilted his head to one side and watched her, Gen knelt down, the edges of her long scarf grazing the grass below her.

      Sludge eyed the wool with interest.

      “I wouldn’t—” Cary called out.

      But it was too late.

      In a lightning-fast move, Sludge chomped down on the wool and pulled hard.

      Gen landed on the grass just as a good three-inch square was ingested by Sludge. “Sludge! Cary, my scarf—”

      “Is ruined,” Cary muttered in disapproval as Sludge chewed his prize without a bit of shame. “Sorry, he’s a menace.”

      “He certainly is.” Bending down to pet the dog, Gen scratched his ears. “Be careful, Sludge, or you’re going to get my reputation for eating anything and everything that’s unhealthy for you.”

      Cary’s lips twitched before pointing to the frayed, wet wool she now held in her hand. “Sorry about your scarf.”

      “Don’t worry about it,” she said, wiping the grass from her thighs as she strode to her car. “Sadie’s done crazy things, too.”

      “Thanks again for coming out.”

      “No problem. Remember, it’s why I’m here.” Gen tried to lighten her words with a smile, but neither came out the way she’d intended. Though she’d spoken the truth, she’d also been genuinely glad to try to help. “Please tell your brother I’ll call him soon.”

      After a few parting words, Cary went inside and Gen got in her car.

      As she backed out, she shook her head in dismay. Someone had slapped a Lion Pride sticker smack-dab in the middle of her rear windshield while she’d been taking Melissa’s statement. Looked as though basketball fever was going to catch her whether she wanted to be caught or not.

      Chapter Four

      “It’s contract day, Cary,” Christy Pardue said from Cary’s doorway. “As your department head, I’ve been informed to tell you to either sign the thing and turn it in or write a letter of resignation and let us hire someone else.”

      “Glad to feel so needed.”

      “Any time. It’s why I get paid the big bucks.”

      Cary laughed. “So…I’ve got make a decision, huh?”

      “Yep. The school board is crunching numbers. Since Michael just announced he’s leaving to take that job at Lakota, Evan’s going crazy. He wants to know how many of us are coming back, pronto.”

      Looking at the contract that had been sitting in a folder on his desk for a month, he sighed. “Tell Evan he’ll have my answer by two.”

      Christy’s playful expression sobered. “Oh my gosh, Cary. You aren’t really thinking of leaving, are you? You were going to help me teach that continuing-ed class this summer and give me a hand ordering new textbooks. You can’t leave me with just Dave and Linda.”

      “Dave’s easy and Linda is…okay.”

      “Linda’s twenty-two years old—I could be her mother. Please sign your contract.” Her eyes narrowed. “You are going to sign it, right?”

      “I’ll let you know by two.”

      Christy turned on her heel, leaving Cary to stare at his contract again.

      Why was committing another three years such a big deal? He loved teaching at Lane’s End. Surely he hadn’t gotten so hurt by Kate that he was willing to change his whole life just to avoid her?

      No,