Page 109 of Need You
“Well, I’ve got a double whammy for you. ‘Crazy about You’ just got nominated for a CMA.”
He did a double take, his first thought being,Holy shit, my song is that good?Then anger set in, swirling in the pit of his stomach like fiery acid. He would’ve given Lisa the damned song if she’d only asked. There was a time when he would’ve done anything for her. He told himself that he didn’t care, that he didn’t personally need acknowledgment—or fame. Just knowing that the song was nominated was good enough. He could quietly celebrate the honor with a pint at Old Glory.
His cell went off, ringing and pinging all at the same time. He checked caller ID, saw it was Delaney, and picked up.
“Hey.”
“Are you sitting down?” she asked.
“Carrie Jo already told me.”
“My God, Colt, you’re nominated for a CMA!”
“No, Lisa Laredo is.”
Silence, then finally, “You have to speak up. Now is the time.”
“We’ve already been over this and I’ve got company.”
“Call me later then. I’m not through trying to talk some sense into you.”
“Roger that.” He smiled to himself. Lisa wasn’t someone he talked about, not even with his brothers. But with Delaney he was getting used to it.
Jack had moved to the sofa with Carrie Jo. Both stared at him, curious.
“Who was that?” Carrie Jo asked. “It didn’t sound like one of your brothers. You usually don’t have a goofy grin on your face when you talk to one of them.”
Colt glanced at his texts. His brothers had sent group messages.
Josh: You hear the news?
TJ: WTF?
Win sent a picture of Lisa with a drawn-on mustache. Classy.
“Colt?” Carrie Jo prodded.
“It was Delaney. Looks like the news is out.” He put down his phone to give Carrie Jo his full attention.
“So it’s true—you two are dating?”
He didn’t know what they were doing, only that he’d broken his own policy of not engaging in casual relationships with local women. But for the first time he wasn’t going to overanalyze it. He was just going to enjoy it while it lasted. Until she left.
“Something like that,” he responded. “Why don’t the two of you go home and enjoy the rest of the day.”
“I just came to get my blender.”
“You juicing again?” Jack asked her as they both got up to leave Colt’s office.
When they were gone he turned on his computer and searched the Country Music Awards. According to the Web site, the nominations had been announced Friday night and had made the news this morning. He scrolled through various headlines until he came to one about Lisa. She was thrilled and honored, the story said. Blah, blah, blah. How did Lisa look at herself in the mirror every day?
He closed out of the page and tried his former SFPD partner. Voice mail, so he left a message. Any intel Colt gathered wouldn’t help him keep his job, but at least he could prepare his staff. He wondered whether Ben had examined his contract yet but didn’t want to bother him on a Saturday. Whatever the paperwork said, Colt knew the mayor would find a loophole large enough to walk through. Pond was obviously high on this Brian guy to have him come up twice. Colt suspected the city was footing the bill, which meant the council had to know. Yet no one had said a word. Not even Rita, who’d been friends with his parents since the 1970s.
He spent a few hours doing paperwork, keeping his ear on the police scanner, and ignoring his brothers’ constant texts. Thank goodness the three of them were guiding tours today or they’d be here, giving Colt a rash of shit for not calling foul on Lisa. He thought about his night with Delaney—how hot and spontaneous it’d been. For a woman who claimed not to be adventurous, she’d rocked his world. Her ex-husband was a pig. He didn’t want to even think about what she’d told him about Robert.
At three he got called out on another burglary. Unlike the others, this involved an eighty-two-year-old woman with dementia, who’d mistaken someone else’s house for her own. When the owners came home they found her napping in their bed. Thinking that she’d locked herself out, she’d managed to crawl through an open window. He’d gotten her home to her kids, who’d been ready to call the National Guard. One of the woman’s daughters had been so grateful that she’d loaded him up with enough apples from her tree to feed a small country.
That’s what it was like being the police chief of a small town. Best job in the world.
