Page 45 of Welker

Moira knew that some of those places came with legitimate concerns, but most of what Margaret spewed seemed like rote excuses…

Margaret must have seen Moira’s skepticism, and her face softened. “Fine. It’s not only that, dear. I also have my dog, Lady Guinevere. The old girl is nearing sixteen now, and I just couldn’t possibly leave her. None of the places that seemed halfway decent when I looked into them were even remotely concerned that I’d have to leave my dog behind.”

That made more sense. Margaret was most certainly stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“However,” Margaret continued brightly, after she entered Moira’s information into her phone. “No matter how nasty people can be, I follow the motto, Illegitimi non carborundum.”

Moira raised a brow.

“Don’t let the bastards get you down,” Margaret translated.

Moira laughed. “Clearly, you don’t. And I’ll second that sentiment. For both of us. You keep being you. And me? Even though a few people in my department would like nothing more than for me to take my female-self off to another job, I’m also a member of the local SWAT team, and I fit right in with those officers.”

The words came out of Moira’s mouth without thought, and she suddenly realized…

They were true.

She did fit in with her SWAT colleagues, no matter how much she’d tried to keep them at arms’ length. And she might feel even closer to the group if she dropped some of the walls she’d kept erected around herself.

Moira sighed.

Going out tonight, wearing a dress instead of her normal armor, smiling and engaging… That would all be a test of how well she could make that happen.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Welker thought it was a good sign that Moira had taken so long and had come out with several large bags in her hands. But she’d also emerged with…a tiny little old lady in tow?

Welker grinned. Moira tried to hide it from the world, but she couldn’t keep him off the track any more. She had a really soft heart. Clearly, she’d found someone who needed help, and hadn’t been able to leave the small woman to her own devices.

Welker got out of his car as the pair came closer.

“Oh, my. He is a big one,” the blue-haired woman chirped, her appreciative glance looking more like that of a twenty-year old than that of an octogenarian, which is where Welker estimated the woman’s age.

He smiled and responded, although perhaps the statement was rhetorical?

“My mother fed me a lot when I was growing up. I’m Welker. Pleased to meet you.” He enclosed a small, papery hand in his, and gently gave it a pump.

“Polite, too,” the lady chuckled. “Moira dear, I think you’ve got yourself a keeper.”

Moira sputtered, but before she could rebut the woman’s words, Welker chimed in. “I’m the one who’s lucky,” he answered, sending a teasing look toward Moira.

She squinched up her mouth, but let him have his moment. Feeling lucky, he reached for Moira’s bags, and with only a slight uptick of one brow for him being “gentlemanly”, she actually handed them over.

Score. On two counts.

“You may call me Margaret,” the woman rejoindered cheerfully. “And yes, Moira’s a gem. I hope you don’t mind, but once she found out I was taking an Uber, she offered for you to drive me home.”

“Not a problem, Margaret,” Welker assured her. “But would you like to see my credentials?”

Margaret laughed, an infectious, tinkling sound. “That’s not necessary, young man. Moira has already shown me her Sheriff’s badge, and told me you’re not only a Bangor police officer, but that the pair of you work on a SWAT team together. I don’t see how I could get much safer than that.”

Welker opened the door for the woman and gestured her in while Moira went to the opposite side and slid into the front seat.

“Yes, you’re absolutely risk-free with us,” Welker winked. He liked this feisty individual.

Closing her door gently, he got in and started the car. “What’s your address? I’ll punch it into my GPS.”

She rattled off a street just outside of town with which he was familiar. He was surprised and a little concerned that she lived in a location so sparsely populated.

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