Page 12 of Under the Lights
“Hey, it’s Carla.” As if she wouldn’t recognize the second-shift dispatcher’s voice. “You still in uniform?”
“Nope. We’re painting signs, plus my uniform’s not exactly comfortable, so I changed after my shift. What’s up?”
“Some trouble at the Conrad residence. Neighbor called in a domestic dispute that’s escalating. Officer Clark is assisting on a motor vehicle accident up by the town line and can’t give me an ETA.”
“I can run home, change and head out there. Even if Dylan left the scene now, I’d still beat him.”
After taking some good-natured ribbing from Jen and Gretchen for sticking them with the cleanup, Kelly swung by her apartment and suited up before heading to the Conrads’ home.
She could hear the yelling as soon as she got out of her car, and she hoped yelling was as far as they’d gone. Her knock was firm and loud—her “cop knock” as Jen called it—and she knew they heard her, because the shouting stopped.
She knocked a second time and did some yelling of her own. “Stewart Mills PD. Open the door, please.”
When Peter Conrad swung the door open, she could see his flush of anger, but she was happy not to smell alcohol. It had been a bit of a scandal when Doreen left him two years ago because of his drinking, and he’d quit to get his family back. Hopefully the strain wasn’t threatening his sobriety.
“It’s just an argument,” he said. “It got loud, but it’s just an argument.”
“I’m glad to hear it’s not more than that. I’ll just say hi to Doreen and then be on my way.”
“She’s pretty upset. I think she locked herself in the bathroom.”
Kelly kept her expression neutral. “Arguments will do that. I’m going to tell it to you straight, Pete. I’m not leaving until I’ve seen Doreen, so you may as well let me in.”
“The kids are in their rooms with their earbud things in, so they don’t know what’s going on.”
She didn’t bother telling Pete he was fooling himself. Kids couldn’t block out their parents’ relationship straining at the seams and getting ready to blow. “I need to talk to Doreen, Pete.”
He let her in and she looked around while Pete yelled to Doreen to come out of the bathroom. There was no evidence their argument had turned violent. Nothing overturned or out of place. No crooked pictures on the wall or knocked-over knickknacks.
Pete sank onto the couch and dropped his head into his hands and, a few seconds later, the bathroom door opened. Doreen’s eyes were red and puffy, but she only looked tired instead of scared.
Kelly talked to her in a low voice in the kitchen and, after a few minutes, she was certain Pete had been telling the truth. It was an argument, if a particularly ugly and loud one. Doreen was discouraged, but she wasn’t afraid of her husband. Since there had never been a hint of violence in Pete before and her gut told her Doreen had been forthcoming, Kelly decided not to upset the kids further by interviewing them. They were both in the elementary school, so they knew who she was, but she hadn’t had as much interaction with the younger kids as with the middle and high school students.
“If your neighbors heard you and were worried enough to call the police, imagine how the kids feel,” she told Doreen, and the other woman’s eyes filled with tears. “If you and Pete need some help communicating, call Jen Cooper.”
“The school guidance counselor?”
“She can’t give you marriage counseling, but it’s within her job description to help your kids feel secure and happy in their home. She can help.”
Doreen took the card Kelly handed her, then Kelly said her good-byes to Pete. “I hope I won’t be back anytime soon.”
He nodded and Kelly walked back to her truck. Seeing good people she’d known her entire life struggle broke her heart, and it had been a long day. And tomorrow she’d be up at the butt-crack of dawn, as her dad had so eloquently put it, and she’d be seeing Chase.
She threw the truck into gear and headed back toward her apartment. She’d be seeing a lot of Chase in the near future and she had to be on top of her game. Stewart Mills badly needed a win, and she wasn’t going to let old teenage fantasies—or new,veryadult ones—make things messy with the Eagles running back.
04
Even with a thermos of hot coffee prepared for him by Mrs. McDonnell, Chase wasn’t particularly enjoying the butt-crack of dawn. And it wasn’t made any more pleasant by the addition of sullen teenagers.
He’d made so many trips between the Walker farm and the town square, he was pretty sure he could make the drive with his eyes closed now. But he didn’t try because he’d probably nod off and wreck his truck. Or run a stop sign.
At least Kelly wasn’t on duty, so he wouldn’t make an ass of himself coughing up cheesy lines trying to charm his way out of a ticket again. He’d caught a few glimpses of her as she moved around the large, grassy square, helping to organize the donations set out on tables and quilts. She was wearing white shorts that made her legs look long and lean and overall perfect for wrapping around his hips. But she was also wearing a blue Eagles T-shirt and a blue and gold ball cap, which were hard-to-miss reminders that she was Coach’s daughter, in the unlikely event he was tempted to forget for a few minutes that Kelly McDonnell was off-limits to him.
“Dude, you just blew through a stop sign.”
Chase glanced in his rearview mirror, then frowned at his teenage companion—Cody something or other, who played tight end. “Another one? Are you kidding me? Did the town have a budget surplus some year and blow it all on stop signs, or what?”
The kid shrugged. “Whatever, dude.”
