Chapter 1 - Take Your Time

Dani Wingate parked her SUV in the alley between the Pine Cone drugstore and hardware store and dashed toward the antique-looking pharmacy for a tube of toothpaste. She wasted most of her lunch hour searching for a convenience store between the vet clinic and town. Dani and rural didn’t mesh, yet here she was. Not the best move, but a necessary one.

“Afternoon,” the white-haired clerk called as she entered. “Anything I can help with?”

“Toothpaste.” The woman pointed toward the back of the store, which didn’t help at all, but Dani scanned the makeshift aisles until she found the one marked Teeth. Damn it. They didn’t have her favorite, a recurring theme in this town. Before she decided which alternative to choose, the clerk’s shriek caught her attention.

“Get over here, young lady.” The woman held on to a terrified-looking teenage girl in wrinkled clothes with one hand and dialed the phone with the other. “Tell Grace to get over to the drugstore. Shoplifter. Hurry.”

Dani grabbed the closest tube and walked toward the front to check out, but the clerk shook her head. “Got my hands full. Unless you want to hold this one while I ring you up.”

“I’ll come back later.” Dani dropped the toothpaste on the counter. Any kind of drama was not on her radar. Work, keep her head down, and move on, just like she’d planned. She reached for the door handle but stopped when a sheriff’s deputy got out of a patrol car in front of the store. Dani’s breathing quickened, and everything about the officer blurred except the badge. Dani ducked between a row of shelves and an upright magazine rack. In her experience, small-town cops were just as power hungry and heavy-handed as their city counterparts. She wasn’t about to leave this poor scared child without a sense of how she was going to be treated by the officer.

“That was quick,” the clerk said when the officer entered.

“What’ve you got, May?”

“I think this one is hiding something inside her coat.”

“Am not.” The girl’s voice shook and her hands trembled before she stuffed them into her jeans pockets. Dani wanted to rescue her or at least let the cop know she was watching, but this wasn’t her fight yet.

Dani couldn’t see the deputy’s face, but she cocked her head to one side and then stooped to the same height as the girl. “Aren’t you Doreen’s granddaughter?”

The girl nodded and scuffed worn tennis shoes on the floor. “She’ll kill me.”

“Are you hiding something you didn’t pay for, Emily?” the deputy asked in a voice kinder than any Dani had ever heard from a police officer.

The girl shrugged.

“Empty your pockets and put everything on the counter.” She patted a spot beside Dani’s abandoned toothpaste. “This yours?”

The clerk moved the tube aside. “Some lady left it.”

Dani edged closer to the front. Could she sneak past without the officer noticing? She checked for a back door. Maybe she didn’t need to get involved, but she’d been in this kid’s place before and couldn’t abandon her completely. Just a few more minutes to see where things were going. The girl obviously needed help but wasn’t likely to get it. Typical cop.

Emily placed two birthday cards, a few pennies, and a single stick of chewing gum on the counter. “That’s all I got.”

The clerk pointed to the cards. “That’s what I saw, Grace.”

“Do you want to press charges, May?”

“Well,” the clerk hesitated, “she is concealing merchandise.” The woman didn’t sound convincing. “Why don’t you let her cool her heels in the squad car while you and I discuss the details?”

“Hold out your hands, Emily.”

Tears rolled down the girl’s cheeks as she stuck her hands toward the officer. Totally unnecessary.

“I’d really rather not do this, but it’s procedure, and I’m not a fast runner.” The deputy clicked handcuffs on the girl’s wrists and started toward the door. “Let me know if the cuffs are too tight.” She escorted the girl outside and placed her in the back seat of the cruiser. Nothing Dani could do now.

She slid out the door behind them and ducked into the alley to her car while the clerk and several bystanders watched the young girl humiliated on Main Street. She drove back to the veterinary clinic gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles ached. Another kid’s life forever altered by inflexible laws and a cop with no compassion.

* * *

Grace Booker adjusted the handcuffs again so they wouldn’t bite into Emily’s wrists and eased her into the back seat of her patrol car. Arresting people was the worst part of her job, especially when the arrestee was a child. “I’ll turn the AC on.” When the air cooled, Grace opened the back door, and knelt beside Emily. “You be all right here for a few minutes?”

Emily nodded. “What’s gonna happen to me?”

“Concealing merchandise is a crime. You know that, right?” She was already spinning through possible solutions to the situation that didn’t involve criminal charges.

Emily’s eyes clouded with tears again. “Yes, ma’am. I just…” She wiped her wet cheeks on her shoulder. “Sorry.”

“Why did you take the cards, Emily?”

The girl’s tears fell faster. “It’s granny’s birthday tomorrow, and my little brother and I don’t have anything to give her. Daddy’s out of work since the peach packing plant in Fort Valley closed, and mama isn’t getting a lot of sewing jobs.”

Grace pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry, honey. Sounds like you love your granny. How old are you, Emily?”

“Just turned sixteen.”

“Are you going to school every day?”

“Yeah. I’d get three whippings if I didn’t.”

“Because your family cares about you. I’ll be right back.” Grace closed the back door of the patrol car and returned to the drugstore counter. “So, May, what about those charges?”

“I don’t really want to cause her family any more trouble, Grace. They’re having a hard time as it is. I’m already carrying them for some essentials this month. Any suggestions?”

Grace leaned against the counter and surveyed the store. Boxes of unopened stock littered the walkways between sparsely filled shelves, and a layer of dust on everything made the store feel neglected and uninviting. “You keep saying you want to hire somebody for odd jobs. How about a sixteen-year-old who needs to work and help out her family?”

May glanced around the store. “Don’t know if I can afford to hire anybody right now.”

“You can’t sell stock that’s not on the shelves. And nobody wants to shop in a dusty drugstore that looks like it’s about to close. Come on, May. The girl took the cards for her grandmother’s birthday. Help us all out?”

May pulled at the tight bun at the back of her head. “You sure do come up with some interesting ideas. Fine. I’ll give her a chance, but I can only pay minimum wage.”

“I’m sure anything will help. And no criminal charges?”

“No criminal charges,” May confirmed.

Grace started back toward the door. “And throw in the cards.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Grace Booker. Send her in, and I’ll put her to work.”

* * *

Grace parked the county cruiser in the driveway beside her barely roadworthy Corolla, shucked the heavy utility belt from her waist, and hefted it onto her shoulder. She trudged toward her small bungalow tucked behind the family-owned B and B, desperate to be clean and dry.

“I wouldn’t go in there.” Mary Jane, who operated the B and B, hurried in Grace’s direction, her energetic approach impressive for someone in her seventies. Her voice, smooth as freshly churned butter, belied the warning tone.

“Hello to you too, MJ. Of course I’m going in. I’m tired and hot and just want to spend a quiet evening with Karla and a glass of wine.”

“Good luck with that.” Mary Jane caught up, brushed a strand of gray hair off her sweaty forehead, and blocked Grace’s path. “She’s gone, but she left you a present.”

Grace’s parents said Mary Jane was unflappable, prone to extravagant turns of phrase and gestures, but totally composed at all times. If her flushed cheeks and faster speech were any indication, today was testing her.

“What are you talking about? Let me pass.” Grace craned her neck around Mary Jane and looked toward the cottage. “What’s that noise?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Right after you left for work this morning, a curvy redhead driving a pickup with North Carolina plates pulled in. An hour later, she and Karla were gone, along with her belongings. Her bird has been squawking his head off ever since.” She pointed toward the cottage. “He’s loose in there, and everything is catawampus.”

Grace froze. “You mean he’s out of his cage?” The thought of Karla leaving wasn’t nearly as horrific as Dirty Harry being unconfined inside her home.

Mary Jane nodded, her eyes wide as a barn owl.

Grace squeezed her eyes shut to blot out the mental picture of the havoc the parrot could cause. “That bird hates me.”

“I know, and he’s been having a field day. I peeked in the window a few minutes ago, and he’s trashed the place. Sorry, Gracie, but I couldn’t get out here any sooner. All this happened during the busiest time at the house. People checking in and out. Repairmen everywhere. I’ve had my hands full.”

“It’s okay, MJ.” The first part of Mary Jane’s story registered. “Wait. You said Karla left with a redhead?”

Mary Jane nodded again. “I was afraid that woman would be trouble.”

“She needed a place to live until she got back on her feet.” Grace had quickly succumbed to Karla’s sporty body and the time and attention Karla lavished on her, but neither of them spoke of the future, fully aware their connection was temporary.

“You’re just too nice.”

“So you’ve said.” Grace thought the same thing as she considered this recent development, but she’d chosen to get involved with Karla for a short-term distraction.

“But once your hormones kicked in…” Mary Jane let the rest of her sentence drop when Grace gave her a hard stare. “Don’t give me the stink eye. You know I’m right. You’ve got a good heart, Gracie, but you can’t spend the rest of your life in dead-end relationships to keep from getting hurt. At some point, you’ve got to open up again.” Mary Jane raised her palms and looked at the sky. “I promised your parents I’d take care of you, but the job might outlive me.”

“Thanks for that, MJ.” Grace hated to cause anybody trouble, especially Mary Jane.

“The truth is welcome in heaven, honey. I’m just afraid your weakness for tomboys with swagger and roaming hands will be your undoing. What you need is a nice woman—”

“—Who wants to live in Podunk with a deputy sheriff who barely makes a living. Right. Thanks for caring, but what I really need is to get into the cottage before that blasted bird destroys what little I have left.” But Mary Jane was right. Grace did want to settle down. She wanted true love or nothing, but the last time she’d tried, a playgirl with no intention of settling anywhere but on a bed for a few hours’ pleasure had broken her heart. Grace kissed Mary Jane on the cheek. “I’ll be over later and give you a hand with the B and B.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m in pretty good shape now.” She jerked her head toward the cottage. “Should I get the broom?”

“That’ll just piss him off more. I’ll yell if I need backup.” Mary Jane started toward the B and B as Grace edged closer to her front door. “This is what I get for trying to help a sister out.” She called to Mary Jane, “If I’m not out in an hour, contact the station and have them send the coroner for my body.” She wedged her foot against the door and inched it open.

“Hi, Grace.”

Harry’s near perfect imitation of Karla’s voice was almost eerie. She edged the door open enough to stick her head inside and get a lay of the land.

“Police. Run. Po-lice.” He screeched from his perch on the back of her recliner. His gray-feathered body tinged with white scalloping and bright red tail looked like someone had started plucking him for dinner. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Harry. Like an ass misses hemorrhoids.” She scanned her living room and kitchen while easing through the door, her back flat against the wall. Shredded paper, gray feathers, powder dust, and bird food confetti littered every horizontal surface of her normally pristine living space. She slowly stepped farther into the room and her shoe squished in something gooey and slick.

“La-la-la.” Harry squawked louder. “La-la-la.”

Grace raised her foot and wretched at the stringy greenish-white poop clinging to her shoe. “Really, Harry.”

“Welcome home, Five-O.”

She considered throwing her utility belt at him but placed it on the side table instead and slipped out of her shoes. Karla had thought teaching Harry a few police terms was endearing, but her attempts at humor had always been at Grace’s expense. “I’m sorry your mother left you, but it’s not my fault. What are the chances we could be friends, at least until I get you caged?” She mimicked Karla’s actions, held out her arm and kissed at him. “Come on. Be a good boy. It’s dinner time.”

“I’m hungry.”

“Come here, and I’ll feed you.”

Harry flapped his wings and launched off the recliner straight toward her head. She ducked just in time, and he looped around the room, more gray feathers floating in his wake.

“Here, Harry.” She patted her arm.

He swooped again and seemed to be considering perching on her outstretched arm but surged up and clawed her head.

“Damn it.”

He flew away with strands of hair clinging to his feet. “Watch your six,” he cried, taking another dive at her.

“Harry, come here. Please.” She kept her tone even and soft though she wanted to yell and throw a blanket over him. Loud voices and chaos only agitated him more. She slipped past him into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Thank God Karla had left a few slices of orange. “Look what I’ve got for you. Your favorite.”

Harry landed on the back of a barstool, bobbed up and down, and cocked his head.

“Yes, it’s for you. Come here.” She patted her arm again, careful to keep the orange slice close in case Harry lunged for it.

He hopped on the bar and cautiously edged nearer.

“That’s right.” She waved the orange toward him and jerked it back.

Harry jumped off the counter, swiped the fruit from her fingers, taking a bit of skin with it, and landed on her arm, sinking his sharp claws into her bare flesh.

“Ouch.” She almost flung her arm in pain but grabbed him first and ran toward the large aviary in the corner. She shoved him inside, picked up the combination lock from the floor, and attached it before he finished his treat and started pecking her fingers. Now she understood why he’d been flying around all day. He’d learned quickly to open the cage door, and she’d insisted on a lock for security, mostly hers. Karla never liked the idea. Why had she left this bird?

“I’m hungry.”

“I know, Harry. I’m making your gourmet meal right now.” She shook some pellets and sunflower seeds into a food tray and sprinkled them with bits of chopped broccoli, carrots, and orange. While Harry’s back was turned, she slipped the tray into his cage and jumped away. “There. Now eat and leave me in peace.”

She looked around her wrecked home. Where to start? She reached for a paper towel to clean up the poop near the door, and blood ran from her forearm down her fingers onto the countertop. She diverted to the bathroom, cleaned, and bandaged her injuries, changed out of her uniform, and returned to her disaster of a living space. The few good times she and Karla had didn’t come close to making up for this mess, much less for leaving Dirty Harry unattended in her home.

She loved her small cottage set back in the trees, mostly for its short distance from the big house and Mary Jane, which afforded her both privacy and a sense of belonging. She grabbed her cleaning equipment and knelt beside a glob of poop, thinking about her parents instead of the revolting task. They had converted the old two-story home into a B and B several years earlier. Their hopes of curtailing their wanderlust with other travelers’ stories failed and they were soon off again. She’d enjoyed her early years seeing the world with them but had taken the job with the sheriff’s department to finally settle down and make her own life.

“Really, Karla?” Grace muttered and sprayed a poop spot with cleaner and wiped it up with a towel-covered hand. “Ugh.” She gagged and turned her head to catch a clean breath.

When was her last relationship that felt emotionally, financially, and intellectually equal? Her best friends—Trip, a former basketball standout turned vet, and Clay, an accomplished artist—always said whoever bagged Grace Booker would be a lucky woman. Even after all Trip’s advice couched in basketball or animal terms and Clay’s attempts to paint a pretty picture of Grace’s future, the possibility seemed a long shot because she just couldn’t stomach the thought of hurting that badly again.

She pushed her own sad prospects aside and returned to the question of what to do about Dirty Harry. She certainly couldn’t keep him though she’d grown fond of some of his antics. They just didn’t get along. Karla said he needed companionship because he was a flocking bird, but now he’d be alone. Harry wasn’t to blame for Karla’s abandonment. The kind and humane thing was for Grace to find him another home.

Maybe Trip would take him. He’d be good company in her vet clinic and could entertain the other animals and their owners. Grace wasn’t about to collect any more scars fighting him for alpha status. One of them had to go.

After a cold sandwich dinner, Grace settled in her recliner with a glass of wine. This was her first night as a deputy sergeant without new officer performance reports to write, and she wanted to enjoy doing nothing.

Harry screeched, and she nearly jumped out of her chair. He whistled and did his loudest imitation of a bus horn over and over and over.

“Trying to relax here. Could you hold it down?”

“Five-O. Five-O.”

“Perfect.” He wasn’t usually so noisy at night, but he normally perched on Karla’s shoulder, getting her full attention until they went to bed. She grabbed the blanket from the back of the sofa and tossed it over his cage. “Bedtime, Harry.”

“Sex tonight?” he screeched as she walked past.

“Shut up.”