Page 52 of Welcome Home for Christmas
He stooped and kissed her mouth, following the kiss up with another kiss on her forehead. There was something about that forehead kiss that made her melt.
“See you tonight.” He straightened, waved, and left her a big pile of mush alone in her bedroom. Satisfied mush.
She heard the front door close behind him and let out a long sigh. She had to go to work today, too, but she didn’t mind. She’d gotten only a couple of hours of sleep and she wasn’t even tired. Instead, she felt energized, alive. And she was seeing Troy again tonight.
Excitement fluttered around inside her chest. The kind of excitement she’d had as a child awaiting Christmas. Back then she’d been looking forward to the presents under the tree, candy in her stocking, and the hope of catching Santa Claus in the act. Today she was looking forward to whatever Troy had to offer.
—
Troy had given out two warnings today, but he hadn’t ticketed the guys because it was Friday, he had a date tonight, and he was in an extra good mood. It was now five o’clock. He grabbed his keys to go home. He couldn’t wait to see Allison. A part of him had hesitated in asking her to come to his place. He’d mostly kept his fixer-upper private, kind of like a secret hideout or an oversized fort for a grown-up kid who still liked to make them. This hideaway allowed him power tools and lots of trips to the hardware store, though. It wasn’t exactly ready for visitors. Or sleepovers. But he wanted her to see it. He thought maybe she would see the big picture of what it could be with a little spit-shine polishing.
When he got home, he straightened up a bit as he walked through the house, showered, and dressed, then climbed back in his truck to go pick up Allison. He took the route he’d been taking every time he went anywhere over the last week, driving slow in case he saw something suspicious. There hadn’t been any break-ins over the last twenty-four hours. That meant that the culprit had either changed his ways (unlikely), was deathly ill and unable to go about robbing everyone (also unlikely), or was waiting for an opportune time to strike again (probable).
Not that this was Troy’s business. This wasn’t his jurisdiction, he reminded himself. He had no power here. Still, he looked out his window as he drove, inspecting every house window. It was dark already. Most of the cars in the driveways were gone. People were out doing last-minute Christmas shopping and getting together with friends and family.
There were lights everywhere, but one specific light caught his attention as he drove. A single circular yellow light like he’d seen before shone inside a house that was otherwise decorated with only rainbow-colored lights. A flashlight.
Troy slowed his truck and cut the headlights, then he reached for his cellphone.
“Seaside Police Department,” someone said on the other line.
“Yeah, I’d like to report suspicious activity on Branchwood Road. House three-eleven,” he said, pulling off to the roadside. “I think the house is being robbed.” He kept his gaze targeted on his rearview mirror, watching the house. He didn’t want to scrapple with this guy himself, but he would if it came to it.
Troy gave the person on the phone more details, then hung up and reached for the concealed weapon in the glove compartment. He quietly closed his truck door and headed across the lawn to the house in question and waited. He hoped the Seaside police arrived before the burglar attempted to get away.
Minutes ticked away slowly and then sirens began to grow louder.
“Really?” Here he was trying his damnedest to be quiet, and the cops were coming in hot with sirens. Unless the burglar was deaf, he’d be making a run for it any minute now.
The back door shot open.
Without thinking, Troy sprang forward. “Hey, you!”
The burglar whirled around. Mr. Grinch himself was carrying a pillowcase stuffed to the brim with presents.
Troy didn’t see a weapon, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one hidden inside the many layers the guy wore.
The burglar dropped the bag and started to run. No way was Troy letting him go free to do this again. Not this time. He lunged after the guy, grabbed the back of his shirt, and locked a strong arm around his neck. Surprisingly, the guy didn’t put up much of a fight.
A police car squealed into the driveway.
“Sergeant Matthews with the Camp Leon Military Police Department,” he shouted, maintaining his hold on the perp.
“I have my gun pulled. No sudden moves,” the arresting police officer told the burglar. Another officer hurried over with cuffs. In a matter of minutes, it was over. The Seaside burglar had been apprehended.
Troy stepped back and took a good look at the perp. He thought maybe he’d seen him at the Veterans’ Center recently, but couldn’t place him. Allison probably knew who he was.
Allison.Oh, shit.He was late picking her up.
“Sergeant Matthews, I’m going to need you to come back to the station for questioning.”
“Does it have to be right now?” Troy asked as more police cars pulled up to the curb.
“Hot date?” the officer teased.
“Actually, yeah.”
“Afraid it has to be now.”
Troy nodded, reaching into his pocket for his cellphone, which was suddenly MIA. He must’ve dropped it on the ground during the brief tackle hold he’d given the burglar. “All right. Can I use a phone when I get there? I need to call someone.”
“Sure thing.”
“Great.” He’d tell Allison what happened when he got to the police station and she’d understand. Nothing lost, except a couple of the precious few hours that they’d committed to each other.
