The Soldier's Valentine. Pamela Tracy
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quit your job without reason and now want me to lend you money so you can make a car payment?”
Leann knew exactly where her sister was: to the left of the birthday party, straight behind the lovebird couple and on the playground. It had been a favorite getaway for her and Gail during their youth.
Leann’s ex-husband, Ryan, had proposed to her there—she’d been sitting on the swing; he’d been kneeling before her in the sand—on a moonlit night just like this one, a week before high school graduation.
She’d been newly turned eighteen, pregnant and willing to dream. He’d been six months into eighteen, pressured by his parents to do the right thing and about to get to boot camp.
Gail’s voice grew even louder. “Loser!”
This shrill exclamation interrupted the young couple, who stood, gave Leann a what are you waiting for? stare and walked slowly away.
“I can’t believe I married you!”
The birthday party parents started moving faster, perhaps inspired by the rising tone of Gail’s voice, and gathered their kids, ice chest and limp piñata before hurrying down the sidewalk toward the small man-made lake. Ever a cop, Leann scanned the parking lot to see if a minivan was waiting for them. No, so they must live nearby. Besides her squad car, there was a dark blue Ford truck, New Mexico plates, with a good-sized dent in the left side. Hmm, not a vehicle she recognized. Could be one of the skateboarders had finally gotten a job and some transportation. She hoped so, because otherwise it might be a recent acquire of her brother-in-law’s and the vehicle payment he needed to make.
Leann checked the computer for anything new and then radioed in her time of arrival: nine fifteen. She’d get a few smirks when she got back to the station. Gail and Ray’s feuding was legendary in Sarasota Falls.
No sense delaying. She opened the door and almost got one leg out when she saw a dark mass heading in her direction, moving fast across the grass, not making a sound. Her mind reached for possibilities even as she returned her leg to the vehicle and reached out to close the door.
She didn’t have a chance.
The dog nudged the door the rest of the way open, his head butting its way in, and then stopped—butt outside but head inside. “Woof!”
“What the—?”
“Wilma, come!” A man’s voice, louder than her sister’s even, came sharp and clear, commanding.
Wilma? This dog’s name was Wilma? Based on its size, it should be Brute or Thor, Cujo or Genghis Khan. Not Wilma. Wilma was the nice Flintstone.
“Off,” she ordered.
The dog didn’t budge, just grinned at her, openmouthed, tongue out, drool dripping, weighing at least sixty pounds she guessed. It was big, brown and reminded Leann of a dog she’d had years ago. Without thinking, she said, “Varaus,” meaning “Off” in German. At the same time, she pushed and the dog retreated maybe two steps where it remained, head tilted to the side as if expecting more.
“Wilma, come!” The voice, louder this time, was deep and rich, without temper. If her dog, Peaches, acted so wild and wooly, she’d be adding a little sass and showing her who was boss.
“Gey,” she said, and surprisingly, the dog fully backed away from the vehicle, so she could extract herself just in time for the owner to finally jog into view. He was almost six foot, dark, possibly Hispanic, and had straight black hair. “The harness broke,” he explained.
“What you should be saying,” Leann suggested, the foul mood caused by her sister making her use a tone she normally wouldn’t have used, “is, thank you, Officer. I needed the help.”
He looked at her, eyes penetrating. A wave of emotion—long suppressed—reached the part of her that still believed in Prince Charming. Wow. Her hormones hadn’t taken notice like this since she’d turned fifteen and realized kissing wouldn’t be so weird.
He attached the leash to the harness circling the dog’s upper body before saying, “Thank you, Officer.”
She was about to cajole him into adding “I needed the help,” but she heard Ray finally hit his breaking point with Gail by shouting, “You weak-kneed princess. I know—”
Leann quickly jogged up a small embankment, hurried down the grassy knoll and, not even out of breath, announced, “You know nothing.” Hmm, she’d left the door to the squad car open. If the dog hopped in, good. When she got back, she’d assist Mr. I-Don’t-Need-Help with manouevering the dog out again. That would be way more fun than stepping into the middle of this dispute.
She skidded to a stop next to her brother-in-law. “Ray, calm down. Gail, don’t you think there’s a better place for you to have this fight, er...discussion?”
“I didn’t want Mama to hear,” Gail said softly. Tears rolled down her face.
Leann wasn’t moved. Gail should have been a movie star. She cried at will, no effort or emotion necessary. Also, she was a master at being the center of attention.
“I didn’t quit my job, Le—, er, Officer Bailey,” Ray grumped. “I got laid off. There’s a difference. I’ll start looking for a new job come Monday.”
Leann made sure her face didn’t so much as twitch. She was a cop more than she was family just then. Good thing, too, because she suspected he hadn’t been laid off; he’d most likely been fired for lack of effort if experience counted for anything.
Gail had a right to be annoyed. Ray worked for a leasing agency doing landscaping and repairs on their real estate property and rentals. Leaves didn’t stop needing to be raked, and trash didn’t carry itself to the bin.
A snort sounded to Leann’s left. She looked, realizing the sound had come from Wilma the dog. She moved her gaze up the grassy knoll to Wilma’s owner, who sported a look of disdain. Great, even total strangers could look at her family and guess “dysfunctional” almost immediately.
Wilma strained at her leash and tried to pull the man toward Leann, who took a few steps closer to the swing set.
“Bleip,” she ordered the dog, telling it to stay. Turning to the man, she said, “Control your dog, sir. And if you have no business with these folks, could you please move along.” Then she turned back to face her sister, and said, “Gail, you head home, not the guesthouse, but the main house. I’ll call Clarissa and tell her you’re on the way. Ray, go to your brother’s house for the night.”
“No, I’m going to my own house,” Ray said.
Gail immediately protested, “It’s not your house. Tell him, Leann.”
“Or I can bring you both into the station and book the pair of you for disturbing the peace.” Leann shrugged.
Ray mouthed a word that Leann pretended not to hear. “Fine. I’m going.”
Gail marched away. In a matter of minutes, she was nearing the sidewalk by the softball field. She had only a block to go to arrive at their parents’ home.
“I got laid off,” Ray said to the man holding onto the dog. “It happens.”
The man didn’t so much as shrug.
Leann took out her cell phone and hit a button. Clarissa answered at the first ring, her voice—as always—upbeat and reassuring. Leann knew at least one person in the Crabtree home had her back.
“Gail’s coming to see you. Let her in the back door, give her some cookies and coffee, listen to her cry and please try to calm her down.”
The housekeeper laughed, like she always did with their overly dramatic episodes, and promised warm cookies for Leann, too, if she wanted them. She did; her thighs didn’t.
After ending the call, Leann studied the man and dog. Wilma promptly dropped to the ground, rolled onto her back and waved paws in the air. She either