Page 2 of The Harborer
“Donna says Allen was the wrecker on scene?”
“Yep. I hung around until he arrived and loaded up the heap. He took the driver too.”
Micky Allen owned Fall River’s garage. He was the town’s lone mechanic, and he also ran the only towing service for miles. A big chunk of his work came courtesy of the sheriff’s department.
Gunderson twiddled a pen. “Good. Allen might be an idiot of epic proportion, but he knows what the hell he’s doing when it comes to anything that has wheels.”
Shane nodded his agreement. He’d grown up with Micky and was way too familiar with the nonsense the guy got up to. When Micky had offered the driver a lift, though, Shane had slumped in relief. Micky would make sure the driver and his twisted hunk of metal got where they needed to go.
Donna poked her head out of the little office that housed Dispatch. The look on the older woman’s face broadcast she had bad news. “I know you’re technically off-duty, but you’re the only patrol deputy I’ve got.”
Shane gave her a chin lift. “I still have to write up my report on that crash. What’s up?”
“I just got a call from Bruno Keating. He wants to file a formal complaint against Mountain Coffee, and I was hoping you could check things out so we can maybe—”
Donna said “deflect” at the same time Shane said “derail.”
Bruno Keating was the owner of Dells, a dive bar on a parallel street. He was also an Aspen attorney with bleached platinum hair, a spray-on tan, and a Napoleon complex. He had vied for a position on the city council and lost to the owner of Mountain Coffee. Bruno believed he had an ax to grind, and he was doing his damnedest to grind it.
“What’s his problem with the coffee shop?” Shane asked.
“He says their sidewalk A-frame sign is three feet over where it should be.”
Shane stared at her.
Gunderson snorted. “I suppose he’s taken measurements down to a sixteenth of an inch.”
Donna’s expression was one of apology. “I know you’ve been putting in a lot of time lately, so I hate to ask.”
Shane grinned. “No problem. I’ll take care of it.”
Her eyes rounded, and her mouth curled up in a hesitant smile. “Really? You don’t mind?”
“Not since it’s you doing the asking.” He gave her a wink and spun on his heel.
This was another of those small-town trivialities that would normally chafe at him like a bad rash, but this one was different. This one would take him right to Amy Caufield’s door.
Nope, he didn’t mind one little bit.
He took a minutein the restroom to wash up and try to flatten that one stubborn sprig of hair on his crown. Then he was back on Bowen Street in his own truck, driving past the general store, which housed his studio apartment upstairs. As he crept along, he peered inside Mountain Coffee. The place had closed at two and was buttoned up tight, but it didn’t stop his caffeine addiction from rushing to the fore. A mug of strong, aromatic coffee would really hit the spot right now. The store served the best java in town, and he knew this because he stopped in nearly every day to fill his insulated tumbler. Caffeine was the fuel that got him going at the ass crack of dawn or woke him up in the middle of the night when he got called out, and too often what he got was the watered-down dregs from the Sheriff’s Office or convenience stores.
But it wasn’t only the rich, bold aroma and the full flavor that made him a frequent flyer at Mountain Coffee. The store’s owner served her brew along with her smile, which was one of the prettiest he’d ever seen. Amy Caufield was his favorite business owner in town. Amy was his favorite woman in town. Amy was his favoritepersonin town. She didn’t know it, and neither did her live-in boyfriend—who was none other than Micky Allen—and Shane intended to keep it that way. Not that he had a thingfor her because he didn’t. He couldn’t. Like so many of the women in Fall River, Amy was taken. Never mind that the guy who claimed her didn’t deserve her. Didn’t change the fact that she belonged to him, and she was completely off-limits.
There were certain lines one never crossed, and trying to take another man’s woman was a line made of forged steel. Besides, Amy wasn’t the type to stray. No, her loyalty was the superglue that kept that couple together, despite the fact they were a terrible fit. And everyone in town knew it.
Chrome flashed in the skinny space between the coffee shop and the business beside it as he passed. A vehicle was behind the buildings. Turning off on the closest side street, he turned again into the alleyway, where he spied a battered white SUV parked behind Mountain Coffee. This was an old Pathfinder, and it didn’t belong there. He pulled in behind it and threw his pickup into park. No one was supposed to be at Mountain Coffee this late in the afternoon.
He loped cautiously toward the back door, which stood ajar, setting off a series of internal alarm bells in his head. Voices drifted out, and he paused to listen.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you guys jumping through these hoops for me.”
Shane recognized that voice instantly.Amy. What was she doing here at this hour? And where was her Explorer?
A male voice rumbled something about his boss wanting to be sure she had everything she needed.
“And tell your boss I’m so sorry to hear about the accident. I’ll give him a call in a few days and see how he’s doing.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that,” said the dude.
