“I want to be the first department in the state to have a Canine Comfort Therapy Team.”
I nod my head in response. This could be a good idea in certain situations. “How do you see it working here?”
“Given the right circumstances, we’ll have a facility where we house the dogs and have a training center for our officers. The idea being to eventually have officers from other departments around the state come and train with us, if we’re successful with this initiative, that is—which I think we will be.”
“You said given the right circumstances…I take it we don’t have those?”
“Ahhh…” Growling, Lane crosses his arms in front of his chest as he sinks back in his chair. “Afraid not. Welcome to Sweetkiss Creek, the town that gets the scraps.”
Chuckling, I wiggle my eyebrows. “But the name is so pretty.”
“I know,” he says. “But we’re the pretty and forgotten cousin down the road, who really wants to make a difference. Do you know we have had more callouts in the last eighteen months for what the public deems as someone who is an extreme danger or considered a threat? Most of the time, with these kinds of calls, it’s someone having mental health issues, and it’s heartbreaking we can’t do more.”
I dip my chin in concession. “In my last job, we had a local army veteran who suffered from PTSD. He’d get worked up and no one knew how to talk him down, only his family could do it. One day, when he was having a fit over noise in his neighborhood, his daughter, who happened to be dog sitting, discovered the neighbor’s dog calmed him.”
My heart still swells at the thought. Speedy, the old guy’s nickname, was now the proud owner of Bunny the cavoodle because of it.
“Then you get it. We need to do more for the vulnerable members of our community, not lump them into a one-size-fits all situation.” Lane tips his head at the stack of paperwork. “All of that is literature for you to review, but I basically need someone to help me apply for this grant. Our annual charity ball fundraiser is in a few weeks, so we will have funds from that to get started. However, we need more if we want to build and maintain a facility. We’ve applied for this grant twice now, and no joy. I’m hoping this is a case of ‘third time’s a charm’ with you across it.”
Knowing his reasons why and seeing how I can help, my inner significance sits up much taller in its seat. “Let’s see if I can work some magic, sir.”
“Thanks, Wright.” Sergeant Lane kicks his chair back and hops up, walking away only to turn around once more. “Oh, and did I see on your resume you took leadership classes and ran team activities with your department back in Beaufort?”
Seems that someone has been reading the manual of Zac. “Yes sir, you did. I was one of five who worked on a committee to coordinate our team retreats and bonding.”
“Fantastic,” he says as he claps his hands together. “You’re our new team activity leader.”
“What the…are you sure, sir? There must be someone else who’s been here longer that would be better suited for the role.” The look Lane shoots my way tells me another story. “Or maybe not. Maybe I should say thank you and simply ask who I’ll be working with.”
“I like you, Wright. You get it.” Sergeant Lane laughs, sweeping his arm around the room. “If you need to form a committee, go ahead. You have your pick.”
Officers are scattered, a few sit at their desks while some are out on calls. At least one, I think his name is Felix, is staring out the window. To be fair, it is a quiet day and the town of Sweetkiss isn’t a metropolis, so we’re a small team. A few of our crew are off work today, and of course, there’s the ones I’m not thinking of who rotate out for night shifts.
I get the sense there’s some sarcasm in Lane’s laugh somewhere, though, but there’s not enough time in the day for me to examine my suspicions. I’m the newbie, so I want to make…scratch that, Ineedto make a good impression.
Grabbing the stack of papers for the grant, I place them under my desk with my things to take home after work. A little light reading in bed tonight will do me some good anyway.
When I’m ready to finish up for the day, I lift my head and almost pass out when Tuck suddenly appears in front of me. “I’m back!”
“It’s like you’re a ghost, your vapor sneaking in here and suddenly you appear at my desk.”
“Hey, you knew I was coming back.” He glances at his watch, then back to me. “When I texted last night, you said five-thirty was a good time.” He taps its face. “Five-thirty on the button. Are you free now?”
“I can be.” Leaning back under the desk, I grab my things and hold them in the air, showing off my goods. “But I’ll need to come back here after dinner to grab my things. I get to take homework with me.”
Tuck peeks at the massive pile under the desk. “Confidential files? Mugshots? Maps to treasure?”
“Treasure? Where do you come up with these things?”
Tuck laughs, jerking his head toward the door. “Come on, let’s go. I’m starving.”
“There’s a steakhouse down the street.” Peeking out the front window, I see the sun is on its way down and, figuring the evening air is already crisp, I grab my jacket from the back of my chair and put it on. “You know the one, we’ve been there before.”
“The Magnolia Grill, yeah.” Tuck’s eyes narrow, humor wrinkling at the edges. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you need to know where the finish line is,” I say with a snicker as I take off faster than a toupee in a hurricane, not even pausing long enough to call out, “I, 2, 3, RACE!”
* * *
