Calculated Risk. Janie Crouch
abuse.
She was beautiful.
But surrounding her beauty was an air of desperation and weariness—much more than just a new mother’s exhaustion. This was almost like a tangible fear.
But maybe it was because she’d just gotten busted shoplifting.
“Thank you,” she muttered in a husky voice, taking the diaper package. “I was just about to pay for them, and then the package ripped open.”
Tanner gave her a nod, ignoring the lie. “I’m sure handling everything with two little ones is a hardship. Is their dad around? Your husband? Someone who can help you?”
“No. No, it’s just me. I don’t have a husband.” She looked so overwhelmed and breakable, all big eyes and crying baby. It made Tanner want to forget everything that he was, the vows he had made, and help her.
More than just help her—fight against whatever it was that was putting such fear in those green eyes. Even if that was her own bad choices.
Which was absurd, considering he’d met her thirty seconds ago and didn’t even know her name.
“Maybe I can help you.” He took a step forward but paused when she jerked back.
She began looking around frantically. “I just realized I don’t have my purse. I—I better go get that. I’ll leave the diapers here and come back for them.”
She shifted the crying baby, a boy by the look of the blue outfit, into her other arm, shushing him softly and kissing his forehead. Then hefted up the baby in the carrier with her free arm. Without another word to him, she turned and walked toward the door.
Tanner was only a step behind her as she walked toward the front of the store. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He should’ve made his official position known from the beginning. Mentioning it now was going to throw her into an even bigger panic.
But he wanted to help. Every instinct screamed that this was a woman at the end of her rope. He might have just caught her in the act of breaking the law, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was the villain in this story.
Sometimes justice and the law weren’t the same thing. Even a lawman sometimes had to break the rules if it was the right thing to do. His father had taught him that.
Of course, his father had also been killed in the line of duty.
Tanner would follow her out and make sure she made it to her car all right and wasn’t in so much a hurry that she got in an accident. Then he could come back and pay for what she’d taken, and nobody had to be wiser about any of it. Gary would understand.
They were walking past the front counter, the woman throwing a worried glance at him over her shoulder every few seconds, when Gary decided to be friendly. The way he always was.
“Officer Dempsey,” Gary called out. “Did you find your razor refill?”
Tanner could see every muscle in the small woman’s body tense as she spun around and looked at him. “Officer?”
The baby finally stopped crying. The woman looked like she wanted to bolt but knew she wouldn’t make it very far with her cargo in tow.
Tanner tilted his head toward Gary but kept his eyes on the woman. “Technically, it’s captain of the southeast department of the Grand County Sheriff’s Office. And yeah, Gary, I did find what I was looking for, but this lovely young mother—what’s your name again?”
“Bree,” she murmured.
He turned back to Gary. “Bree seems to have forgotten her wallet, and I thought I would show her a little Risk Peak hospitality and pay for the diapers and formula she needs.”
She didn’t say anything, just looked at him like she expected him to start reading her her rights any second.
“Here’s the diaper and formula package.” Tanner placed the tattered packaging on the counter. “They both...somehow ripped.”
“Are you serious? I’m so sorry,” Gary muttered. “If you wait just a second, miss, I’ll go get you packages that aren’t ripped.”
She finally broke eye contact with Tanner to look at Gary. “There’s no need to do that. I think half of it fell out in the baby carrier anyway.”
Gary smiled and looked at the baby in her arms. “Yep, look, there’s a formula packet right there in this little guy’s outfit.” He reached over and grabbed the small packet of formula from near the baby’s neck. Bree flushed and looked away.
They stood there awkwardly as Gary rang up the items, chatting the entire time about the weather, Tanner’s upcoming fly-fishing trip and the decline of the quality of plastic as evidenced by the ripped diaper and formula packages, before finally putting the items in a bag.
Bree murmured her thanks and then moved with the babies out the door.
Tanner was right behind her.
He followed her out to her gray Honda, which at least didn’t look like it was going to fall apart on the side of the road. She immediately began buckling the car seats into the car.
“Were you waiting until we got out here to arrest me?” she asked when she saw he had followed her.
He leaned against her hood. “No laws were broken. Everything was paid for before anyone exited the store. So, no need for an arrest.”
She let out a sigh. “Thank you. It’s very kind of you to help me. Can I pay you back?”
The tightness in her features screamed that she didn’t have the money to pay him back. He was almost tempted to say yes just to see what she would do.
But his mother hadn’t raised him that way. “No, there’s no need.”
Some of the tension faded. “Well, thanks again. I’ve got to get going.”
He kept his posture as relaxed as possible. “There are government assistance measures in place if you can’t afford what you need. If you come down to my office, we could help get you set up.”
She stiffened, then shook her head. “No, it’s not like that. My wallet got stolen, but I’ll be fine.”
Her wallet may have gotten stolen, but he had a feeling there was a lot more to it than that. “If you’re in some sort of trouble, I can help.”
She shook her head before walking around to the driver’s side. “No, I’m fine. I just need to get to where I’m going.”
“And where is that?” He hefted himself from the hood and walked toward her. She immediately took the long way around the car, keeping distance between them. She opened the driver’s-side door.
“Thank you for your help,” she said, not answering the question.
He sighed. “I’d like to do more.”
“Well, I appreciate it, but I don’t need more.” She gave him a smile, but it didn’t come anywhere close to meeting her eyes. All the desperation and fear he’d sensed earlier was back again. “We’ll be fine and out of your hair in no time, Sheriff.”
“Just captain of the department. Sheriff Duggan is my boss, although she’s at the office about forty miles north of here,” he corrected with a smile.
She nodded but didn’t say anything further.
She was slipping through his fingers, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. But since he wasn’t going to arrest her and couldn’t force her to come in and get help, he had to let her go.
He gripped the roof of her car and leaned toward her. “The Sunrise Diner is down the street on the way out of town. At least stop by there and grab yourself something to eat before you head out. Tell them to put in on my tab. Believe me, they’ll get a hoot out of it.”
Cheryl