Page 62 of So Wicked

“Missouri, huh? Where at?”

“Sunrise Beach.”

“No idea where that is.”

“The Lake of the Ozarks. It’s a little resort town, but it’s a quiet one set a little bit away from the bigger towns.”

“Ah. Well, that sounds muggy and miserable.”

She laughed. “In the summer, maybe, but it’s actually snowing there right now.”

"Yeah, today it might be. The next day, it might be eighty degrees and humid as hell."

She grinned. “I guess I’ll have to suck it up.”

Jacob chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so.” His expression softened, at least as much as a twenty-seven-year veteran of the Marine Corps could soften. “It was good to see you, Staff Sergeant. I’m glad you’re doing well.”

She wrapped him in a bear hug. “You too, First Sergeant. I’ll keep in touch, okay?”

“You’d better. If I have to go to the swamplands of Missouri to talk to your ass, I’m going to make you regret it.”

“I believe you.”

She released him, and Jacob squatted down to say goodbye to Turk. “You be good, Marine. Take care of your squad leader, okay?”

Turk barked in agreement, and Jacob patted his head. "Good dog."

He escorted the two of them outside to Faith’s car. The city had salted the roads the night before, so driving was a far lessterrifying prospect than it would have been otherwise. Not that it would have stopped Faith. She’d dealt with far more dangerous things than ice on the roads.

Jacob watched them as they pulled out of the driveway and headed south. She gave him one last wave goodbye, and he returned a crisp salute that would have warmed the heart of any drill instructor.

Then they were on the road again.

She drove for about three miles when a police cruiser pulled in behind her and put its lights on. She frowned for a second, but when she saw the officer grinning in the driver’s seat, she smiled and pulled over.

Slade came to her window, and she batted her eyes innocently. “What seems to be the trouble, officer?”

“Well, it occurred to me that a brief wave wasn’t enough of a goodbye for someone who saved my career, so I thought I’d buy you breakfast instead. Got time for a donut?”

Faith chuckled. If only Michael could have been here to meet the wisecracking detective. “There’s always time for a donut, right boy?”

Turk barked enthusiastically, his tail thumping against the dash as he thought of the sweet treat that awaited him.

“And me makes three,” Slade said. “Follow me.”

He led them to a donut shop a mile down the road. Faith got herself a chocolate ring. Slade got a Boston crème, and Turk got a plain glazed.

“Huh. I thought you’d get a maple bacon bar,” she remarked.

Slade grimaced. “Why would I eat that?”

She shrugged. “No reason.”

The donut shop was crowded for the early morning rush, so they ate in Faith’s car.

“I miss the old Crown Vics,” Slade said. “The new cars are slick, but the Crown Vics had a weight to them, you know? They felt like trucks.”

“They almost were. Body on frame, solid rear axle, recirculating ball steering until 2003: basically trucks with sedan bodies.”

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