Page 19 of Love on the Run

“Not really. I kind of raised myself. My gran lived there, but she died. That’s when I decided to move to LA.”

She hadn’t mentioned parents, and he assumed it was a painful subject. He understood painful subjects perfectly well.

“You been in anything I would have seen?”

She laughed. “Do you watch daytime soaps? Didn’t think so,” she said, not pausing for his response. “Once I got a part as a jury member in a courtroom drama. I was the one to stand up and say,” she paused dramatically. “‘We find the defendant… not guilty.’”

“Very nice,” Jake complimented her, giving her a sidelong glance. Her mood seemed to be improving. And she was absolutely lovely when she smiled. Jake tore his gaze away and tried to focus on the road.

Callie kept up a running account of her audition stories as they drove. Jake could tell that finding the humor in the stories—some of them of completely disheartening, humiliating events—was a major way that actors kept their spirits up.

Eventually, the outline of some buildings grew in the distance, quickly gaining definition as they approached. Callie got her first glimpse of the place in the daylight. Though it was the county seat, Hazelton wasn’t a big town. In fact, it didn’t have more than ten or twelve streets. This part of the state was still largely rural, with most of the families scattered on ranches and isolated homesteads in mountain valleys. Still, it was charming, with its main street of little stores and a few restaurants, and the older-style houses, many of which had been recently repainted as part of a beautification drive by the town council members—all three of them.

“So, this is Hazelton,” he said, braking when he saw the traffic light turn yellow. “And this is our one and only stoplight.”

“It’s cute,” Callie scanned the intersection, looking at each corner.Then her eyes caught a flash of light just up the street.

“What’s the 88 Diner?” she asked, peering at the chrome-outlined sign of the local restaurant. In the midmorning light, the sign was almost blinding.The building, little changed from the time it had been built, was also detailed with a lot of chrome siding, and the large picture windows reflected the bright blue sky.

“That’s pretty much the real center of town,” Jake responded. “Everyone goes there at least once a week, and some go every day. It’s just your typical greasy spoon.”

“I love greasy spoons.Do they do a good grilled cheese?”

“No, they do a great one,” said Jake, a little smugly. “And the fries are hand-cut. Susan—she’s the owner—doesn’t believe in frozen food. Except for the ice cream, that is.”

“Mmm,” Callie smiled.

“I guess I know where we’re going for lunch,” Jake grinned crookedly.

“Ooh, really?”Callie looked so excited by the idea that he laughed, shoving a momentary qualm about the wisdom of his remark to the back of his mind. It wouldn’t be pushing the bounds of professionalism to make sure she ate right, after all.“I’m going to get extra hungry then.”

“Let’s get the doctor’s visit out of the way first,” he cautioned.

“Yes, sir, sheriff.”

Jake was glad Callie’s mood was good. She looked much healthier than she did last night.Then he remembered that she still hadn’t given him the full story on what had happened to her.He had to stay objective. Her smile was starting to make that difficult. Callie seemed to be two different people: one a bright and beautiful young woman, the other an untrustworthy, untrusting cat. Jake wished he knew which one was real.

Before he knew it, they were pulling into the tiny parking lot of Dr. Murphy’s office. “Is this it?” Callie asked, looking around. Pink and red geraniums grew in large pots on either side of the door.

“Yep. Closest thing we have to a hospital. Hazelton’s a tiny town, that’s for sure. It’s got a gas station, a grocery, and a diner. Not much else.”

“What else do you need?” Callie asked. Jake hopped out of the truck and was around her side before she got her seatbelt off. He opened the door for her again. Callie wasn’t used to the attention, so she ducked her head, confused by the courtesy. She couldn’t help noticing how good Jake looked in jeans, more like a cowboy than a police officer.

They headed into the doctor’s office. The waiting room was empty except for a secretary and a middle-aged woman in an arm cast.

“Good morning, Sheriff,” the secretary smiled at them. “Is this Miss Reed?”

“Yeah, Doc wants a check up.”

“Why don’t you have a seat, honey,” the woman smiled kindly at her. “He’ll be out in a minute.”

“How’s the arm, Mrs. Lancaster?” Jake asked the other woman sitting there, even as Callie lowered herself into a chair.

“Doc says the cast comes off next week. I’m just waiting for the x-rays to come back.”

“You should have known better than to move that fridge by yourself,” he commented, in a way that made it clear this was common wisdom around town.

The woman identified as Mrs. Lancaster merely waved her free hand in disgust. She was watching Callie with avid curiosity, and the girl was saved from an interrogation only by the arrival of Dr. Murphy. He was a big man, probably pushing sixty, with a warm and direct manner, shown by his handshake.

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