Protecting Her Son. Joan Kilby

immediately. Already on edge, she swept the box of pins off the counter. She’d been aiming for the garbage but most of them scattered over the tile floor.

      Jamie’s eyes went round at her uncharacteristic loss of control. Toothpaste foam dripping from his mouth, he crowed, “You’ve got to pick those all up.”

      “Yes, sir.” She pulled her hair into an ugly ponytail, ignoring the flyaway wisps. Then crouched to retrieve the pins.

      The house needed a good tidying. She picked up the book she’d been reading in the bath last night, Get Out Of Your Mind and Into Your Life. She was a sucker for self-help books, not that they ever seemed to fix her. If she could figure out what exactly her problem was, that would be half the battle. She knew where she’d gone wrong—getting involved with Nick—but not why. Until she understood that she was in danger of falling into the same trap in the future.

      She put the pins in the cabinet and carried the book to the spare bedroom. There she kept her private bookshelf crammed with titles like, The Courage to Be Yourself, Women Who Worry Too Much, Get Out Of Your Own Way. But pride of place went to her sewing table and quilting materials.

      A half-finished crazy quilt was spread over the table. She touched the patchwork wistfully, itching to piece a few scraps and forget about everything for a while. Ironically, quilting did for her what the books couldn’t do. Fully absorbed in sewing, she didn’t have time to dwell on herself.

      She dropped Jamie off at school and went in to work early to have a chat with Patty. As well as operating Dispatch she was in charge of requisitions. Paula handed Patty a list of items she thought she and Riley would need for the investigation.

      Patty looked at the list and laughed. “You’re pulling my leg.”

      “No. It’s not an ambitious list. A camera, a high-powered flashlight, a dedicated laptop—”

      “Half the time we don’t even have spare batteries. Most officers use their own cameras.” Patty shrugged. “The station doesn’t have the resources toward the end of the financial year.”

      “I see. I’ll file this, then.” She crumpled the list and dropped it into the rubbish bin.

      She started to leave then noticed her reflection in the window onto the bull pen behind Patty’s desk. Her hair was already springing out of the elastic band. Using the glass as a mirror she rearranged some hairpins. She was so focused on what she was doing she didn’t notice Riley on the other side of the glass until he rapped on it.

      “Inside,” he mouthed, and jerked his head as if to tell her to get her butt in there.

      What happened to Mr. Affable this morning? If she hadn’t been on unofficial probation, if Riley wasn’t the senior sergeant’s best mate, she would slap him down and put him in his place. “Gotta go. The rookie commands my presence.”

      “Riley?” Patty swiveled in her seat, discreetly craning her neck. “He’s hot.”

      “Is he? I hadn’t noticed,” Paula lied. She finished with her hair and jammed on her cap. Oh, yes, Riley was hot. In another world, another life, she would have been the first girl in line at his kissing booth. But since Nick, she’d learned her lesson. Compartmentalize. Trouble was, between the box surrounding her job, and the one containing her as a mother, there wasn’t any room left in her life for a romance box.