The Deputy's Baby. Tyler Anne Snell
car as I point at stuff might not be exciting, it’s hard to serve a county you’re flying blind through.”
Henry didn’t dispute that.
He’d spent the last five years in Tennessee, bouncing around when the job called for it. Not too far a cry from South Alabama but enough of a difference that he couldn’t pretend to know the county’s flavor just yet.
Henry pulled his mind away from the blond-haired beauty he’d rescued from a blind date, and tried to refocus on the task at hand. This was the first day he’d spent out of the sheriff’s department. One of several days to come that he’d spend touring with the sheriff and the chief deputy before getting partnered with another deputy. Then, after a while, Henry would finally get his own cruiser and be able to get back to working alone.
He hoped.
It had been a long time since he’d had a partner, and he wasn’t itching to get back into the swing of being one of two.
Sheriff Reed’s guided tour took them through the whole of Carpenter, one of three small towns in the county but, according to Reed, they were barely scratching the surface of his hometown.
“Carpenter has been through a lot in the last decade or so. Heck, the county has been through a lot,” he said later when they pulled into the parking lot of a small diner across the street from the department. Apparently, it was also a law-enforcement favorite, and not just because of its close proximity. “It’s made the community stronger, but it’s also made the people that make trouble smarter. Trickier. Carpenter, and Riker County as a whole, has a lot of nooks and crannies, country roads and open land, not to mention a good deal of abandoned properties scattered throughout the towns and city, that all make it harder to do our jobs. To keep the community safe, to keep the bad guys from getting the upper hand. Which means we get to work harder and adapt so that never happens.”
He put the Tahoe in Park and cut the engine. Henry couldn’t help noticing the temperature on the dash read ninety degrees. Though that wasn’t counting in the humidity.
Billy glanced at the temperature, too, and smirked. “Which means after lunch I’ll start showing you the juicy stuff. Until then you’re about to experience one of the best burgers in town and one of the most powerful commercial air conditioners, too.”
“And I won’t turn that down, either,” Henry was quick to say. It wasn’t like they were allowed to wear shorts on the job to help fight the heat. Plus, it had been a long time since he’d had a good burger.
They got out of the Tahoe and started across the parking lot. It was summer and the heat kept sticking to its guns. The air was hot and heavy, pressing against his uniform without hesitation. Tennessee had its moments of uncomfortable, but one week in Riker County and he thought he understood the meaning of the word melting.
“You weren’t kidding about this place being popular with the badges,” Henry observed after trying to memorize their surroundings for later. He noted two cruisers at the corner of the building and, if he wasn’t mistaken, there was also a personal vehicle of Chief Deputy Suzy Simmons parked in front of the entrance.
“The power of good food in a small town is second to none,” the sheriff responded, seemingly not surprised by the turnout. “Though today it’s less about the food and more about celebrating.” Billy pulled open the door but paused to explain himself over his shoulder. “One of our dispatchers is finally back from an extended vacation. We love all of our department, but I don’t think I’m being too sentimental when I say she’s close to the heart of it.”
Henry had heard that one of the night-shift dispatchers was out of town, but he hadn’t thought any more on it. Carpenter might have been a small town, but Riker oversaw two more towns and one city. He hadn’t had a chance to meet all the deputies in the department, let alone all the support staff. He hadn’t even personally met the dispatchers currently working.
“Plus,” the sheriff continued with a smirk, “I may be a man of the law, but I’m not one to turn down a chance at cake.”
Henry laughed and followed him inside. It was a small room but efficient. Booths lined the right wall along the windows while a counter stretched across the other with stools in front. In the back corner three booths were filled with deputies, Chief Deputy Simmons, and even one of the detectives, Matt Walker. Some were off duty; others wore their uniforms. All were seemingly in good moods.
Henry spied the half-eaten cake in question sitting in the center of the middle booth, but the woman of the hour wasn’t across from it. Even without knowing it was a celebration for her, Henry could have guessed easily enough. Everyone seemed to be leaning in toward her. She stood at the head of the closest table, a gift bag in one hand and tissue paper in the other. Henry couldn’t see her face, but he had an uninhibited view of her hair.
It was blond and curly and familiar.
“Deputy Ward,” Sheriff Reed announced as soon as they were close enough to the group. Everyone quieted and turned their attention to their leader. Including the woman of the hour. “I’d like to introduce you to our very own Cassie Gates.”
Two beautiful green eyes found Henry’s and widened.
The woman Henry had spent months trying to forget wasn’t just a dispatcher for the department. According to the sheriff, she was the heart of it.
On reflex alone Henry outstretched his hand.
“Nice to meet you,” he said. There was a distant tone to his voice. Even he could hear it. Like someone who had just been blindsided. Which, he realized, was exactly what was happening.
Cassie’s long lashes blinked a few times but she collected herself quickly.
“Nice to meet you,” she repeated. Her tone also sounding dull, hollow.
At least he wasn’t the only one who had been caught wholly off guard.
The change in both of their demeanors didn’t go unnoticed, either. The sheriff raised an eyebrow. He didn’t have time to comment.
The sound of glass shattering filled the air.
And then, right in front of Henry’s eyes, the sheriff took a bullet to the stomach.
* * *
BETWEEN THE SPACE of two breaths, all hell broke loose in the diner.
Cassie dropped to the floor, a scream caught in her throat. Almost simultaneously the weight of someone else was on top of her, sandwiching her flat against the tiled floor.
Yelling followed by more glass shattering kept the noise levels high and heavy. What was once a celebration had turned into terror. Like a light switch had been flipped, bathing them in a whole new array of shadows. Whoever was covering her tightened around her body, making a cage.
More gunshots sounded overhead. So close, her ears rang in protest. Her colleagues, her friends, were returning fire.
Memories of being in a similar situation years before filled her head.
She’d done this before.
She’d been here before. Under fire...
When she thought she was supposed to be safe.
Cassie sucked in a breath, panic thronging her body. If her hands had been free, they would have gone straight to her neck. A gut reaction she’d honed in the last two and a half years. Her fingers would trace the scar at the side of her neck. She’d remember the blood and terror. However, now she couldn’t go through that routine. Not when the weight of someone was keeping her to the floor.
So she did the best thing she could. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited.
What felt like an eternity went by until silence finally cut through the madness. It was brief but poignant. As if the diner as a whole had decided to take a collective breath. She couldn’t have been the only one whose heart was trying to hammer itself out of her chest.
The body holding