The Soldier's Valentine. Pamela Tracy

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The Soldier's Valentine - Pamela Tracy


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appointment after Ryan returned.

      She exited Balliard’s office and headed for the lobby. She’d known Ryan all her life, had been his science partner at Sarasota Falls Elementary when he’d been struggling to get passing grades. He’d given her a used eraser as a thank-you. In high school, junior year, he’d sat in front of her every class. She’d been a Crabtree, and he’d been a Bailey. It had been the beginning of their relationship and what seemed like her quickest ticket out of town.

      She’d always known that in some ways she’d orchestrated their romance, had wanted it more than he did. She’d wanted away from her parents’ house and to not be dependent on them for anything. College would have been on their dime and their terms. She wanted to stand on her own. She’d also been in love and thought it would be better to have Ryan at her side. Then, she’d gotten pregnant and college had been a distant dream, rather than immediate one.

      She owed him and could be the bigger man, er, woman.

      In the waiting room, Chief Riley was on his cell phone, giving someone directions. Good, she didn’t want to answer his questions.

      Leann pushed open the door to the hallway, hurried to the drinking fountain and took a long drink, hoping to open her airway, push away the raw feeling that had accompanied her from the lawyer’s office.

      Detachment. They’d pounded her over the head with the word at the academy. She could do it.

      “You okay?”

      She recognized the voice. The phrase “kicked when you’re down” crossed her mind. Gary wasn’t the last person in the world she wanted to see at the moment. That would be her ex-husband.

      “Fine.”

      “You look a little frazzled,” he said, matter-of-factly. His eyes glittered, dark and moody, in the same way they had that night he watched her sister and brother-in-law fight/whine on the playground. “Come to think of it, the first time I met you, you looked frazzled.”

      She frowned.

      “You need to sit down or something?” he queried.

      “No, I’m fine.”

      He looked over her head, studying occupants’ names as well as their office numbers.

      “Why are you here?” she asked.

      “I’m looking for Frederick Balliard.”

      “He’s the third door on the left.”

      “Drei?” he queried.

      She stepped back and almost smiled.

      “That’s right,” he said. “I’ve started learning German online. Thanks to you and Wilma.”

      Against her better judgment, Leann had to admit that Gary’s appearance wasn’t the only thing she admired. She also admired his quiet confidence.

      Something about him felt familiar. If Leann were the trusting type, given time, she might be able to become close with him. But, no.

      She trusted his brother Oscar, somewhat. After all, they had foiled robberies, pulled children from an overturned school bus and even busted a meth lab last month. The Sarasota Falls Police Department was small. Until Zack’s hiring, she and Oscar were the newest officers. She’d signed on over five years ago when Ryan was just entering first grade. Oscar was on his second year now. There had to be a tiny shred of trust involved in their relationship.

      She and Gary, however, had no relationship.

      “Did you just come out of Balliard’s office?” he asked.

      “Fred’s office. I’ve known him all my life.”

      “And even though you’ve just left the office of a man you’ve known since childhood, you’re tightly wired and exasperated. So, you were in there because of some case you’re working on.”

      He hadn’t asked a question. No, he’d made a statement, and she could answer honestly. “No, not a case I’m working on. Something else.”

      “Something else, eh? Something personal.”

      She opened her mouth, intent on dismissing him, with attitude, but Gary reached out and carefully tucked a strand of hair over her left ear. “I believe you have white paint on your ear.”

      Then, he walked around her and headed down the hall and through the door she’d just exited.

      She frowned, annoyed that he’d left her speechless, and wondering why no one else had mentioned the paint on her ear. Well, if she knew anything it was that doing an art project in her son’s class was bound to leave behind residual damage. How she’d missed paint on her ear, though, was beyond her.

      Almost against her will, she fingered the top of her ear, the ear that still held the heat of his touch.

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