Page 7 of Jackson's Redemption
From my job, my life, my town.
My grief. My anger.
I should tell him. I should let him know where my head was so he didn’t have any ideas I might be interested in pursuing some type of romantic entanglement. I probably should also let him know I was a cop. If for no other reason than he would know I was someone who could handle herself.
Iwasa cop.
That was going to be my answer now anytime someone asked me what I did for a living.
I thought of my father and felt again the well of grief flow up. Like it started in my stomach and worked its way up my throat until I had to struggle to swallow it down. I could only imagine what people back home were saying now that I had left town. I was glad my mother had divorced my father years ago before all of this happened, so she wouldn’t have to bear the brunt of my shame also.
Kate must have known about her father. She must have known he was dirty. Of course she had to, she was working with him. Why wouldn’t he bring her into all his criminal deals?
My mother and I didn’t speak about it at the funeral. I couldn’t speak to anyone about anything at the funeral. I had felt, the whole time, as if I was existing outside myself. But it was a conversation I knew I would ultimately have to have with her.
Only not today. Today, all of that was behind me. Today, I was in a truck with a ridiculously hot Alaskan guy who grunted as part of his normal conversation. So far removed from everything and everyone that I could almost pretend it didn’t happen.
Almost.
“Did you have a good flight?”
The break in silence—other than the engine of the truck—startled me. I glanced at him and again, took in his size and his rough beard. He definitely looked like something that came from this big state.
And he was making an effort. Probably to put me at ease.
“I did. Thank you. But you should know you don’t have worry about making me feel comfortable with small talk. I’m not one of those people who has to fill the silence. It’s one of the things I like about hunting, which I said on my profile. Just me and the woods and the quiet.”
“And your prey.”
I grimaced a bit. “This is the part where I have to tell you, I lied a little about that.”
He glanced over at me but didn’t say anything.
“I really needed to get out of where I was at the time and I didn’t want to risk you picking someone else.” I leaned back behind the seat where I had thrown my gear. I picked up a small case and took out a camera. “I don’t actually kill anything. Instead, I like to shoot photos. But it’s the same skill set. I have to be just as quiet, follow the same trails as if I was tracking an animal to shoot. Instead of firing a rifle, I take a picture. We can still hunt, though, can’t we?”
“I don’t have a problem with you not killing animals. But you’ll need to be armed for your protection.”
“I’m from Arizona,” I said easily. “I’m always armed.”
“What kind of work do you do back in Arizona? It wasn’t on your profile.”
That was because I had focused everything in my profile on me and not my job. Because technically, I didn’t have a job anymore.
Now I was being asked that question. The first time I had to respond with the truth. I swallowed hard but pushed through it. “I was a cop.”
I could have said I was unemployed or looking for a change in careers. But beyond knowing I could handle myself, he also was now aware I knew what I was doing around a firearm.
“Was?”
“I left the force. It wasn’t…working for me anymore,” I hedged. No point in sharing that horrific story with him. “Now I have to find something new. That’s one of the reasons I decided to do this. I thought getting away for a while to someplace remote would help me clear my head. Let me think about the future without all of my past in the way.”
He nodded. “This place is good for that. For putting things behind you. There is also not a lot of judgment from people up here. It’s a real live-and-let-live type of community.”
“Are you talking about your company or the town of Hope’s Point in general?”
“Both.”
“And what’s your role in the company. You said you worked on an oil rig. I don’t know much about them. Do you work the drills themselves?”
