Fit To Be Frisked: Fit To Be Frisked / Mr. Cool Under Fire. Carol Finch

sure, Vance was getting no sympathy from this quarter. Even Laura and Steph commenced giggling.

      Vance sulked his way through lunch while the lovebirds cooed at each other. Well, maybe his family thought he should pay the hefty fine and chalk it up to a prank gone sour, but Vance wasn’t letting it go. Ms. Gung Ho hadn’t heard the last from him on the subject. He’d go over her head and talk to the chief of police. Tate Jackson needed to know that a member of his force was harassing one of the lifelong residents of the community. Tate was a reasonable man who’d lived in Hoot’s Roost for fifteen years. He would make certain that his new officer wasn’t overstepping her bounds.

      “Where are you off to in such a rush?” Wade asked when Vance dropped a ten spot on the table and vaulted to his feet.

      “I’m going to swing by the police department before I pick up the old truck.”

      “Let it go,” Quint advised.

      “Like he said,” Wade chimed in. “All you’re gonna do is make that lady cop madder than she is now. She’ll be gunning for you every time you show your face in town.”

      Vance ignored the advice and strode across town square. He cast a distracted glance toward the circular fountain where a concrete owl hovered in perpetual flight.

      Although Vance was usually a happy-go-lucky, carefree kind of guy he wasn’t going to let that rookie cop get away with this. He just had to make sure he got to tell his side of the story first.

      When Vance breezed in the door of the police station he flashed the dispatcher a friendly smile. “Hi, Maggie, how’s it going?”

      Maggie Davidson grinned back at him. “Fine, handsome. What are you up to? No good, as usual?”

      Vance braced his elbows on the counter and flashed her a high-voltage smile. At least she reacted favorably, he thought. Unlike that green-eyed monster of a cop.

      He and Maggie had dated casually for a few months before she got stuck on a man who eventually became her ex-husband. Vance decided to pour on the charm and ensure that he had one ally in enemy camp.

      “You know me, darlin’, I’m a harmless, law-abiding citizen who wouldn’t hurt a fly.” He graced her with a trademark grin. “Is Tate in his office? I’d like to chat with him for a few minutes.”

      “Sure is. Go on back. I’ll let him know you’re on your way.”

      “Thanks, good lookin’. Seeing anyone at the moment?”

      Maggie shrugged and propped her chin on her hand. “Not seriously. You?”

      “Nope. Maybe we can do a little two-stepping at Hoot’s Tavern Friday night.”

      She beamed with delight. “Love to.”

      Vance ambled down the hall, remembering that he’d always had fun with Maggie in the old days. In addition, it never hurt to have a friend in the right place. Plus, he could quiz Maggie about the new officer and find out what caused that chip on her shoulder.

      “Come in,” Tate Jackson called out when Vance rapped lightly on the door.

      Vance strode inside to pump Tate’s hand then he plopped into the creaky wooden chair across from the chief’s desk that was piled high with files and red-tape forms.

      “What can I do for you, Vance?” Tate asked.

      “I came to file a complaint,” Vance replied. “I had a run-in with the lady cop on your force this morning.”

      Tate rocked back in his chair and his graying brows flattened over his eyes. “Did you? What kind of run-in?”

      Vance tried to keep his voice neutral, but it wasn’t easy when the image of that high-and-mighty bombshell cop popped to mind. “She slapped me with a ticket when I tried to bring my old farm truck into town for repairs. I told her I was on my way to the service station, but it didn’t faze her. I don’t know where she hails from, but she seems to think that we should follow the same regulations here in the outback that apply to the traffic-congested metropolis.”

      Tate steepled his fingers under his chin and nodded pensively. “I see. Didn’t cut you any slack, did she?”

      “None whatsoever,” Vance confirmed. “That old truck might look like a bucket of rust, but it’s necessary equipment on the ranch. My cousins borrow it all the time. We haul barbwire, tools, cattle feed, you name it. There’s times when I have to take it to town for repairs, but that rookie ordered me to turn it around and drive home.”

      “Hmm,” was all Tate had to say in response.

      “She wasn’t the least bit understanding,” Vance went on. “She fined me a hundred bucks to let me bring the truck to Pinky’s station for tires and a muffler. You’d think there was a toll road between my ranch and town and she’s in charge of collecting payment.”

      “A hundred dollars, you say?” Tate murmured. “That does sound a little steep. Let me see the ticket.”

      Yesss! Good ole Tate was on Vance’s side. That was all the encouragement Vance needed. “And I’m sorry to report that your lady cop has a holier-than-thou attitude that’s going to alienate townsfolk,” he tattled.

      Tate studied the ticket for a moment. “I suppose you gave her the good-ole-boy routine, but she didn’t bite.”

      “She sure didn’t. I climbed down from the truck and she yelled ‘Freeze!’ Heck, you’d have thought I was about to take potshots at her or something. Then she pulled her gun on me and flashed it around to intimidate me. We’re talking loose cannon here, Chief. I’d hate to think what would happen if someone committed a serious offense,” he added. “Then she started spouting code numbers at me. I have no idea what she was ranting about.”

      Another rap rattled the door and Tate glanced sideways. “Come in.”

      Vance inwardly cringed when the object of his frustration materialized in the doorway. The cop with those dazzling green eyes and a body to die for stopped in her tracks. Her narrowed gaze bounced from Tate to Vance. He tossed her a smug grin. Bring it on, Ms. Smarty-Pants. We’ll see who walks out of here with the reprimand.

      2

      “I WONDER IF I MIGHT HAVE a word with you, sir. After you finish your conference, of course,” the lady cop said politely.

      Vance sincerely hoped Tate called this cop on the carpet. The prospect provoked him to smile in devilish delight.

      Tate arched a questioning brow. “Does this have anything to do with the incident Vance is discussing with me?”

      The lady cop nodded and that shiny braid of dark hair curled over her shoulder to brush the swell of her breast. Vance tried not to notice, he really did. But damn she was built like nobody’s business. Too bad that she had the disposition of a snapping turtle.

      “Yes, sir, it does,” she told her superior.

      “Then take a seat, Miranda, and let’s get this situation squared away.”

      Miranda. Didn’t that just figure, Vance mused. The knockout female had decided to enter a profession in which she could Miranda everyone. Well, he’d like to read her a few rights and tell her what she could do with herself and her hoity-toity, by-the-book attitude.

      “Vance was just telling me about your confrontation on the highway this morning. He objected to the hefty fine.”

      Didn’t that just figure, Miranda mused, keeping her expression carefully controlled. No doubt this practical joker had decided to take the incident a step farther by tattling to her boss. The rat.

      “I’m sure he objected,” she commented, “but I maintain that he got exactly what he deserved for turning that unsafe vehicle over to his cousin to drive to town after I sent Mr. Ryder back the way he’d come.”

      When