A Small-Town Girl. Shelley Galloway
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all her sister did was speak a little louder. “You’ll get to nurture something. Be outside. Be around other people.”
“I’m around a lot of people with my job.”
“Giving them tickets! That’ll make you a lot of friends! Gardening is different. It’s calm.”
Calm did sound good. “How is gardening going to improve my love life?”
“Everyone who gardens talks about gardening. Maybe you could join a club,” Margaret continued. The way she was rushing her words told Gen she was getting more and more excited by the suggestion.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said sarcastically.
As the kids started going crazy in the background, Margaret said, “Ugh, these three are driving me batty today. I’ve gotta go. Did I help at all?”
She sounded so enthusiastic Gen couldn’t say no. Although Gen wasn’t great at asking Meg for help, she wanted a better relationship with her sister. Perhaps the gap wasn’t quite as one-sided as Gen had always thought it to be and Meg had just been waiting for Gen to make the first step. Maybe—just maybe—one day they could be a whole lot closer. “Some,” she said.
“Easter’s coming. Grow a lily. It might be fun.”
One plant. She could do that. “Maybe I will. Oh! I almost forgot to tell you—I won’t be coming home for Easter. I’ve gotta work.”
“I kinda figured that since you’ve never been able to make it home for many holidays.” Will, Meg’s baby, was now crying hard enough to wake the dead. “Shoot. I really gotta go. Bye!”
After Gen hung up, she turned to Sadie. “I have a plan. One day soon I’m going to grow lilies and think about something else besides work, Cary Hudson or industrial-size bags of peanut M&M’s.”
Sadie rolled to her side and groaned just as Gen’s cell phone rang. “Slate.”
“Gen, I’ve got a problem,” Sam said. “I can’t find the report about Mrs. Bodwell’s car break-in. Any idea where you put it?”
“Yep.” As Gen told Sam where she filed her paperwork before going off duty, then volunteered to help him find it, Sadie opened one eye and blinked.
Gen had a pretty good idea what the beagle was thinking. Her new hobby might not come about quite as quickly as she hoped.
“I’M ON TRAFFIC DUTY?” Gen asked late Monday afternoon. “Again? It’s raining.” Directing traffic in the rain meant wet feet and annoyed drivers. She’d be soaked to the skin in minutes.
Gen didn’t really mind the duty, but since she’d been asked to direct traffic the last two times it rained, the assignment felt like a game of “let’s haze the rookie.”
She’d already gone through this ritual with the Cincinnati Police Department and she wasn’t eager to do it again. “Who decided the new girl needed this job?” she said out loud to the nearly empty rec room.
“This old guy,” Sergeant John Conrad called from the far corner, and her heart jumped into her throat. “I thought you could take a shift,” he said in his trademark scratchy voice. “You know, do your part?” As he stepped out of the shadows, he added, “Unless you got a problem with that, Slate?”
She stood at attention. “No, sir. I have no problem with the assignment. I’m sorry. I didn’t see you over by the coffeemaker.”
“I figured as much.” Sergeant Conrad grinned, causing the creases around his eyes to deepen. “At ease, Gen.”
She attempted to backtrack. “I didn’t mean to complain. It was more like good-natured griping.”
“I hear ya. I do the same thing about the bran flakes my wife makes me eat every morning.” He cleared his throat. “Since we’re chatting and all, the lieutenant asked me to check in with you.” Conrad sat down, gingerly resting his back against the back of the plastic chair. “So, you, uh, doing okay in Lane’s End? Getting used to the place? Getting used to the department?”
“I am.” Gen sat down across from him, noticing Sam Clark sitting nearby reading a magazine.
“Good. Good. Things are different here than in the CPD. Our community expects you to take time to get to know them.” Tapping a beat-up ballpoint pen on his clipboard, he added, “It makes your job easier, by the way, if you’re familiar with everyone.”
Gen knew what he was trying to say. It had been hard to get used to the new department’s way of doing things. In Lane’s End, the cops worked together, not competitively as they had in Cincinnati.
Gen had also been trying to choose her words more carefully, since she’d been fool enough to let all the cops in her old department witness her jealousy of Keaton’s new girlfriend. But as Gen realized she’d just been openly complaining about traffic duty, she knew she needed to work on that.
“I did go to a basketball game,” she said, eager to at least prove that she’d been trying to get out in the community more.
Sam snorted from his seat, showing he wasn’t that engrossed in his reading, after all—and reminded Gen that she’d fought the excursion to the school last week tooth and nail.
Sergeant Conrad nodded. “That’s the way. I thought I’d heard you went to the Lions game the other night. I missed it—grandkids.”
“It’s too bad you didn’t make it.” As she recalled the way the Lions had fought after slipping by six points, she added, “It was pretty exciting. Half the town was there.” Including Cary Hudson.
“Lieutenant Banks recommended we assign additional officers for the next game. If the Lions keep winning, things could get out of hand.”
Recalling how loud and vibrant the place had been, Gen attempted to imagine it even more jam-packed.
“I heard through the grapevine that the high school wants to do a parade if we go to state,” Sam interjected, his magazine now closed.
“That’ll be fun,” the sergeant said, sarcasm coating his voice. “A third of the town’s going to be in the parade, another third is going to want to watch the thing and the last third is going to raise enough Cain about the traffic and congestion that we’ll wish the game of basketball had never been invented.”
Gen laughed. After getting caught up in downtown’s traffic, she had a feeling she knew which third she would be a part of.
The sergeant tapped his watch. “Speaking of traffic, half of Lane’s End is going to be heading through downtown right about now. If you haven’t figured it out yet, families here take their soccer practices seriously.”
“Even in the rain?”
“Especially in the rain. Better get a move on, Slate. And don’t forget your slicker.”
“I won’t.”
She darted a look toward Sam as she exited the room. As if lying in wait, he brushed at the perfect crease along the sleeve of his crisp oxford. “Shame about the rain, Gen,” he said. “It’s not supposed to let up before nightfall.”
“Thanks for the update.”
Hastily Gen grabbed a headset, pulled out a bright yellow slicker from her locker, then strode to her cruiser. Thank goodness she’d already inspected the car when she’d come on shift so she wouldn’t have to do the lengthy once-over in the rain. Finally she radioed that she was leaving the premises and pulled out of the parking lot.
Today’s assignment was yet another taste of life as a small-town cop. Every day involved doing whatever was necessary to maintain peace and tranquility in town and chipping in as a team to do just that. Being a team player was a hard way to go in one respect since she was so used to trying to prove herself and competing for recognition.
But