Page 12 of The Cowboy Comes Home

Chapter Six

Emily had headedout early, after an uncharacteristically restless night, for her morning run. She waved at a couple of neighbors who were used to her routine now, and they waved back genially. Others she didn’t know smiled at her, although they watched Lobo a bit warily. She pondered that as she went, how basically nice most people in Last Stand were. It was why, when others were off to the big city, she stayed.

Last Stand was home, had always been home, and she loved it.

She was still musing about both past and present later, coming out of the department locker room, Lobo at her heels, when her thoughts were interrupted.

“Hey, Emily, the boss wants to see you.”

Emily turned to look at the man who had hailed her. Mark Latham was Chief Highwater’s aide, a genial guy her boss credited with keeping him sane by sorting out many things before they ever hit his desk.

“Now?”

Mark nodded, grinning. “Before he has to go speak to the mayor. So any dragging it out you can do would probably be appreciated.”

She laughed, knowing how much the chief hated that aspect of his job. He didn’t mind the city council, because they often brought valid concerns from their constituents, the people he actually served, but the mayor was a bit—okay, more than a bit—of a blowhard, and Shane Highwater had little patience for blowhards.

“As long as he doesn’t want me to go in his place,” she said, grinning back.

Now that would be a laugh. Her and the mayor. The very thought made her eyes roll as she headed down the hall toward the chief’s office. She walked, in between nods and hellos to her fellow officers, including Sean Highwater, who barely gave her a nod. She did not take offense, because she knew quite well the signs the man with the unique mind was deep into a puzzle no one else could solve.

Her own mind was running through possibilities. Why would the chief want to see her? The Morales case maybe? The burglary had been a messy one, with the thieves not only stealing expensive property but also vandalizing the house in a way she had thought might well be personal, especially since the victim was Judge Morales. He had a reputation for being fair, so she didn’t know who he might have made angry enough to do it, but she’d included at least the theory in her supplemental report, where they put all the things that weren’t concrete facts.

Or maybe the crash out on the spur? She’d been first on the scene of that mess, involving a county sheriff’s deputy and a drunk driver. The deputy had done a slick PIT maneuver and sent the car nosing into a ditch. The drunk had decided he didn’t need a seat belt, so had ended up in Jameson Hospital, pretty banged up. But since the ten-year-old little girl he’d hit trying to evade arrest was in the ICU in the same hospital and might not make it, Emily didn’t have much sympathy for the guy.

Those were the only two significant incidents of the last couple of weeks, and that latter one wasn’t even technically their case, being a couple of miles outside of town. She’d just been the closest when a request for assistance came over the radio.

At least she wasn’t worried about being in trouble or getting fired. Shane Highwater wasn’t that kind of boss, or that kind of chief. You’d have to do something pretty horrible to lose his trust, mainly because he was so deeply involved in the hiring for his department.

She remembered her interview with him, before she’d been offered—and had instantly accepted—the job. She knew Last Stand as well as anyone, having grown up here, but she had still done her homework and researched all she could about the department.

She’d already known the chief was a hero. Everyone in town—heck, in the country—knew that. What she hadn’t known was the sheer goodness of the man, personally. Not just to his family, stepping up for his siblings when his father had been killed, adopting an orphaned runaway, and never, ever giving up the search for his missing brother. It was evident in the way he handled his job as well, especially his people. He was steadfast, had high standards, but was above all fair. He led by example, and inspired his troops to try and match him. And so, while curious, she wasn’t really worried that he’d asked to see her.

She tapped lightly on the door, since Mark wasn’t at his desk, and the chief’s voice called out for her to come in. When she did he stood up, a move she guessed was inspired by old-school Texas manners about women, given he far outranked her. She didn’t mind, in fact found it rather appealing.

“Sit down, Emily,” he said, gesturing not to the chair opposite his desk, but the small couch against the side wall. It was a silent confirmation that this was nothing bad, and the tiny bit of nervousness she’d felt vanished. She took the seat, and told Lobo to sit. She gave the dog a scratch behind the ears, which he loved, and he settled easily.

The chief walked over and sat in the armchair at right angles to where she was. He studied Lobo for a moment, while the dog looked steadily back at him.

“He’s the boss, Lobo. Be nice.”

The dog made a small, throaty sound, and stretched out his nose toward Chief Highwater. The man smiled, and very slowly reached out to scratch under the dog’s chin. Lobo lifted his head and leaned into it. The chief remembered, apparently, what Chance had said about that being one of his favorite spots. She wasn’t surprised. Shane Highwater didn’t miss much.

Then he shifted his gaze to Emily. “He seems to be doing well.”

“Very well,” she said, a little proudly. This must be what he’d wanted. It was like him to keep tabs on this particular project, since it had been his idea. “You’d never know he was the same dog who was constantly pacing and panting not so long ago.”

“Chance Rafferty knows what he’s doing,” he said with obvious satisfaction.

“Yes, and he knew this Lobo was hiding behind all that fear and edginess.”

The chief nodded. “And you’ve brought it all to the fore. You’re a good match.”

“I think so.”

He leaned back in his chair then. “I got a phone call about you this morning.”Oops. Maybe this wasn’t all he wanted.“Mrs. Keppler, who is, I understand, a neighbor of yours?”

“Oh,” she said, understanding dawning. “Yes, they live a couple of doors down from me.”

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