This Good Man. Janice Johnson Kay
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no longer having someone he could call when he wanted sex.
He should check email. He got as far as reaching for the mouse but didn’t move it. Instead he kept frowning and thinking about the woman he’d just met downstairs. No ring; he’d noticed that. Was she the type to be interested in something casual, assuming she wasn’t already involved with a man? Once Yancey Launders was picked up, Reid could call her and ask how the boy was doing. Suggest a cup of coffee.
He remembered those eyes, though, and felt uneasy. He hadn’t thought ghost-gray because of the color, he realized belatedly. It was more as if, in looking into those eyes, he’d seen her ghosts. He tended to stick with uncomplicated women. The scrape of his own scars against someone else’s would be...uncomfortable.
Reid shifted in his chair, unhappily aware that he’d remained aroused because he was thinking about her. He hadn’t reacted this strongly to a woman in a long time, and couldn’t understand why he had now. Anna Grant didn’t advertise her sex appeal, that was for sure. And, truth was, she might not have much, as skinny as she was.
Delicate.
He mumbled a profanity, relieved when his internal phone line rang. What he needed was a distraction.
Once the caller identified herself, Reid said, “I’m free now, Lieutenant. If you are, too, why don’t we get an early start?”
She agreed, and he was finally able to turn his mind from Anna, thinking instead about Lieutenant Jane Renner, who supervised detectives and whose rank placed her immediately beneath him. They’d planned this time to talk. She was bringing personnel files to help him familiarize himself with the investigative division. He’d already met with several key people in the support division he also headed—crime-scene technicians, clerical and records staff, fleet maintenance and more. That was the part of this new job most unfamiliar to him, where his learning curve would be steepest.
He was curious about the young woman with a bouncy ponytail who’d risen to lieutenant over an entirely male group of detectives. So far, he was reserving judgment, although she’d seemed sharp when she participated in his initial interviews. Police Chief Alec Raynor had spoken highly of her. Reid knew she’d recently married a sergeant with the Butte County Sheriff’s Department. Passing some of his female clerical staff in the hall yesterday, he’d overheard whispered gossip that made him wonder if Lieutenant Renner might be pregnant. Of course, he couldn’t ask her; HR would have his hide if he did. Assuming it was true, he had to trust she wouldn’t wait until it was painfully apparent, especially if she intended to quit. He hoped there was someone under her who was competent to step in while she took maternity leave, at the very least.
At the knock on his door, he called, “Come in,” and rose to his feet with automatic courtesy. When he was done with this meeting, he decided, he’d drive out to the Hales’ place and spend a little time with Caleb, however awkward that time would feel for both of them.
On the way out, he might stop at the front desk and ask Sergeant Shroutt to let him know when Anna Grant’s wandering lamb was safely back in her care.
* * *
AFTER LEAVING THE downtown public safety building, Anna drove a route that led from Yancey’s foster home and eventually all the way out to Highway 97, the main north-south corridor through central Oregon. Turning her head constantly in search of one undersize boy, she kept her speed down enough to annoy drivers behind her, one of whom decided to crowd her bumper. She was oh-so-tempted to slam on her brakes, but she didn’t want the hassle of having to leave her car in an auto-body shop. And she’d have to deal with the police, who might not be feeling very fond of her right now.
Too bad. Somebody had to make them do their jobs.
Tension rising as the miles passed with no sight of Yancey, Anna went south on 97 and continued through La Pine. She’d reached Little River when her phone rang. As she pulled into a gas-station parking lot, she answered crisply, “Anna Grant.”
“Ms. Grant, this is Sergeant Shroutt. We’ve picked up the boy. He’s currently at Juvenile Hall.”
She sagged with the rush of relief. “Oh, thank goodness.”
“No, thank Officer Cherney,” the sergeant said drily. “Can we assume you’ll be picking up young Yancey and taking responsibility for him?”
“You may,” she told him. “And please do thank Officer Cherney.” She hesitated only briefly. “And thank you. He’s...a sad boy. I was worried about him.”
“I do understand. It’s our preference to help, you know.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
They left it at that. She put on her signal and waited while a semi lumbered onto the highway, wondering if Sergeant Shroutt would be any more cooperative the next time she came to him. In one way, it was a pity that Captain Sawyer wasn’t in charge of the patrol officers, as he might conceivably have turned out to be a useful ally. She’d be more convinced of that, though, if he had displayed even a tiny hint of real emotion. Plus, she’d been hit by sexual attraction, which he’d shown no sign of reciprocating. No, it was just as well that she wouldn’t have to deal with him often.
Making up her mind, she made a call rather than starting back toward Angel Butte.
“Carol? Anna Grant. Listen, I know you wanted a longer break before you took another kid, but is there any chance you’d house a boy for a day or two until I can find another place for him?”
Carol Vogt was, hands down, Anna’s favorite among the foster parents associated with AHYS. A widow whose own two boys were in their thirties, she worked magic on troubled teenagers.
“A day or two.” Carol snorted. “What you mean is, ‘Will you take him just long enough so you decide you didn’t really want that break anyway?’”
Anna grinned. “Guilty as charged. But I promise, I’ll move him if you ask me to. Yancey is only thirteen, and he’s being tormented by the older boys in the home I had him living in. Which was his second since he came into the system. He ran away today and the police just picked him up. I’ve got receiving homes, but...”
She didn’t have to finish. This was a kid who needed stability, not another way station.
A sigh gusted into her ear. “Fine,” Carol said. “But you owe me one.”
“I already owe you a few thousand,” Anna admitted. “Bless you. We’ll be an hour or two.”
“I’ll have his bedroom ready.”
Anna was smiling when she finally made the turn out onto the highway.
* * *
CALEB HOVERED AT the head of the stairs where he knew he couldn’t be seen. Voices drifted up from the kitchen.
“I’m not sure where he is.” That was Paula Hale, who with her husband ran this place. “Caleb’s been spending a lot of time with Diego. They’re probably over in the cabin Diego shares with another boy.”
“I’ll take that coffee, then. Thanks.” This time, Reid’s voice came to Caleb clearly. He must be facing the stairs. “Sugar?”
“You always did have a sweet tooth. And you can’t tell me you’ve forgotten where I keep the sugar bowl.”
Caleb’s brother gave a low chuckle. “I was being polite.”
“You weren’t polite when you lived here. Why start now?”
This time they both laughed.
Caleb felt weird, an unseen third presence. He knew Roger, Paula’s husband, was outside working on Cabin Five. This place was an old resort that must have been shut down, like, a century ago. Most of the boys were paired up in the small cabins. The Hales’ room was on the main floor in the lodge, and Caleb and another guy were in bedrooms upstairs. If there were any girls in residence, Caleb had been told, they always had the rooms upstairs in the lodge so they were near the