Page 4 of New Hope

The smile slid from his face and his eyebrows furrowed as he whispered, “How the hell does she do that?”

“Easy, I’m a mom. It’s a sixth sense all parents have when their kids are misbehaving,” Layla answered as she walked back in the room.

“Excuse me, are you calling me a kid?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “If the shoe fits.” I watched their playful exchange with amusement. It was obvious the two of them were good friends.

The phone started ringing, putting an end to their banter as Layla rushed off to answer it. “Guess that’s our cue to get back to work.” Mike continued showing me around, pointing out where the conference room, restroom, and break area were, as well as Gene’s office and a small alcove for fingerprinting next to a single person cell. “As you can see, we don’t get a lot of traffic in here. Mostly just fights that break out and the occasional drunk and disorderly. We keep them in here until the sheriff can come and take them to the county jail,” he explained.

“And Gene said that’s who takes care of things at night?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. New Hope has a volunteer fire department and life squad that are always on-call, but any police emergencies get dispatched to the county sheriff’s office in the evenings and on weekends. They’re only ten minutes away so they can get here in a jif. It’s more cost effective for the town and makes for a great schedule for us.”

I scratched the side of my head. “I won’t argue with that, but it’s going to take some getting used to.”

Mike smiled. “You’re not in Kansas anymore, buddy. Or in your case, New York. That’s not to say we don’t have our fair share of trouble around here, but overall, people treat us, and each other, with respect. I think you’ll find that New Hope is a pretty peaceful town.”

I followed him to a spacious room at the end of the hall where three desks sat arranged in a loose cluster. A row of metal filing cabinets lined one wall and sunlight streamed through the windows on the opposite wall. I smiled at the small basketball net that hung in a corner of the room, balls of wadded papers scattered on the floor underneath it.

There’d been so many changes for myself and my daughter over the last few months. New house, new job, new school. Even the store where we shopped for food was different. And while different had been the entire point of our move, I had to admit it felt good to see something familiar. Because this—the manila file folders sticking out from the top drawer of a filing cabinet, the pencils, sticky notes, and empty coffee mugs littering the desks, and the navy-blue rain jacket hanging from a hook, POLICE written in bold yellow lettering across the back—this was familiar. It reminded me of the bullpen at my old precinct, albeit a lot smaller, bringing with it a sense of belonging. A sense of home.

“This is where we work most of the time whenever we’re not out on patrol. Ben’s been on morning patrol, and I’ve had the afternoon. Now that you’re here, we’ll rotate things, so we all get time out there as well as time in the office to catch up on paperwork. That’s Ben’s desk, this one’s mine, and I cleared that one off for you,” he explained, pointing to each desk in turn.

“Thanks,” I replied. “Who’s Ben?”

“Ah, Ben.” Mike chuckled as he walked over to one of the filing cabinets, opened a drawer and began rummaging through it. I watched as he started pulling papers out and stacking them on top of the cabinet. “You’ll get to meet Officer Cropper soon enough. He’s straight out of the academy so he’s a little wet behind the ears. He can be a stickler for the rules but it’s only because he wants to do a good job. He’s a good kid and he’s got the makings of a damn fine police officer. He simply needs a few years of experience under his belt and to learn how to relax.”

I nodded, remembering what I’d been like my first year on the job. Like Ben, I’d been eager to please, spouting out rules and regulations like they were going out of style and questioning everyone and everything around me. Basically, I’d been a royal pain in the ass, and I was lucky the people I’d worked with had been so patient with me. Looking back, I was sure there had been times when they’d wanted to throttle me.

The cabinet drawer squeaked loudly as Mike slid it shut before he turned to me with a stack of papers in his hands. The look on his face was apologetic as he waved them in the air. “No one likes paperwork, but it’s a necessary evil for any new job. I need to make a few phone calls, so why don’t you have a seat and get started on this. When we’re done, you can ride with me on patrol to get a feel for things around here.”

“Sounds good.” I took a seat at the empty desk, making a mental note to bring in my favorite mug and a couple of photos of Ellie the following week to help personalize the space a bit. Mike sat down at his desk and tossed me a pen before picking up his phone to make a call. Half an hour later, I sank back in my chair and massaged my hand which had started to cramp about halfway through the paperwork.

Mike chuckled. “Get it all done?”

“Yeah, but I just remembered I have an even bigger pile of paperwork I need to fill out for my daughter’s school. Thank God, I have the whole weekend to do it. I might need to stretch it out, so my hand doesn’t fall off.”

“You’ve got a daughter? How old is she?” I glanced over to see Layla standing in the doorway.

I nodded, my mouth turning up into a smile as I pictured my daughter. “Yeah. Ellie. Well, Eleanor, but I call her Ellie for short. She’s eight and just started second grade.”

“Aw. That’s a great age. And what about your wife? What does she do?” Layla and Mike both looked at me, expectant smiles on their faces.

The thumb on my left hand automatically rubbed the bare spot on my finger where a gold band used to be. “Uh, it’s just the two of us, actually.” I braced myself for the curious looks that usually followed, but fortunately, was saved from having to explain as a man walked in.

I immediately recognized the full head of white hair, thick white mustache, and bright blue eyes that belonged to my new boss, but the rest of him was a surprise, given my limited view since he’d been seated behind a desk during the interview. Gene Sanderson was taller than I’d expected with broad shoulders and a trim waist, but the biggest surprise was the clothes he wore. Dressed in a white button-down shirt, dark blue jeans, and a pair of leather cowboy boots, he looked like he belonged on some ranch in Montana instead of working as the chief of police in a small coastal community.

I stood up, smoothing my hands over the front of my shirt nervously as he made his way back to where we were. His smile was wide as he reached out and shook my hand. “Hello, Ford. Sorry, I’m late. I was hoping to be here to welcome you properly, but I had a meeting with the mayor that ran longer than expected. It’s nice to finally meet you in person, son. We’ve been looking forward to having you join our team.”

“Thank you, sir. It’s good to be here.”

He waved his hand in the air, dismissively. “Now, don’t be calling me sir. Gene will do just fine. Sir makes me feel old and I don’t need any help in that department.” His gravelly voice was in direct opposition to the teasing sparkle in his eyes. The deep-set grooves at the corners of his mouth led me to believe he’d spent a lot of his life smiling.

“Gene, you’ll never be old. You’re still running circles around the rest of us.” Layla patted his shoulder before she scurried off to answer another call.

“Have you had a chance to look around yet?”

“Already took care of that, Boss. I gave him the grand tour and he just finished up the paperwork. As long as everything around here stays quiet, I was going to head out early for my patrol and show him around the town a bit,” Mike replied.

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