The Soldier's Valentine. Pamela Tracy
Cover
THE ONLY THING Officer Leann Bailey hated more than domestic disturbance calls were domestic disturbance calls that involved her family.
She pulled into the familiar parking lot of Meteor Park, located a mere block away from where she’d grown up.
Evening on a school night meant plenty of empty spaces. She pulled into one and turned off the engine.
Leann had chosen to return to the small town of Sarasota Falls and raise her boys. She had not chosen to return to the neighborhood of her childhood, a house that wasn’t a home and siblings as damaged as she was.
Thanks to her spoiled, slightly neurotic younger sister, she didn’t always have a choice.
“I can deal with this,” Leann muttered to herself, yet she didn’t move from behind the wheel. Every time, every single time, she was called to this side of town, to deal with Gail’s issues, it was a step back in time: a time she didn’t want to remember yet alone police.
Her badge grew heavier on her chest as the toxic bubble of childhood memories appeared. Her parents, Ted and Allison Crabtree, served on various boards, gave to charity, threw great parties and were respected by everyone in town—except their own children.
“Silver-spooned kids, didn’t none of them live up to their parents’ expectations,” Leann had overheard her doctor’s receptionist say somewhat sadly.
It was true, the silver spoon part.
Clark, her older brother, had moved to Los Angeles, gotten a degree from a small college and now was a private accountant. He’d not returned ever, even at Christmas. His silver spoon was tarnished.
Leann, instead of becoming a doctor, lawyer or at least marrying well and staying married, had become a cop. Her silver spoon had been pawned to help pay the bills when her oldest boy was a baby.
Still, she’d done better than her sister Gail who was on husband number three and lived in their parents’ guesthouse. Gail lived under the misguided belief that she deserved more than one silver spoon.
“Move,” Leann told herself, trying to shake away the invisible restraints keeping her from exiting her vehicle. Unless she missed her guess, she was due a front-row seat as Gail’s husband number three was promoted—or would that be demoted?—to ex-husband number three.
As the crisp New Mexico air permeated, battling the smell of oil, sweat and metal, she took yet another precious moment to organize her thoughts, assess the situation.
The moon was full in the sky, casting gray shadows on the skateboarders who sailed across the concrete area designated for their use. Only the older kids remained, those who were out of school or who didn’t care about school. Leann rolled down her window and listened to their muted laughter. A small late-night birthday party was winding down as parents packed up gifts and food. A limp piñata hung from a tree about to lose its tentative connection to a low-hanging branch, and a young child’s tired whine provided background music.
A young couple sat very close together on a bench. They paid no attention to the family, skateboarders or argument happening in the distance. Leann envied them. They were so into each