Page 5 of Color of Love

Obviously, she had taken ‘Therapy101’ at college he scoffed, thinking about how she asked him how he’d felt. But he hadn’t expected her to call him on his rudeness; she had a backbone and wasn’t a shy little wallflower. He would have told her to shove her niceties if he wasn’t required by the terms of his contract to be there. She had him by the balls on that one and he didn’t enjoy it one bit.

But just because he was required to attend their weekly sessions didn’t mean he was required to talk to her. The way she’d sat there, her honey eyes beseeching him to open up and surrender his innermost thoughts and feelings had him all riled up. It had been hard to maintain eye contact with her the whole time, she was clearly unaware of her effect on men. It annoyed him even more that he was fighting arousal the entire time.

He definitely needed to get laid, and soon, making a mental note to go to the bar one night to find a woman who was interested in something with no strings attached. He didn’t get into relationships, he didn’t get close to people, he didn’t get attached. The only person he had ever come close to loving had been his wife Katie, but even then, it was with the rose-tinted infatuation of a teenage boy.

He pulled into his designated parking space outside the station, a perk of small-town life, and went inside the building. The old wooden structure should’ve been knocked down and rebuilt years ago but instead it just got patched up every now and then. And necessities added in, like electricity, air-conditioning and indoor plumbing. It was a small, quaint building and as much as he joked about how rundown it was, he felt comfortable here, like it was a second home. He went inside and the cool air from the AC hit his face.

“Morning, sir,” called Jim, his receptionist. He was an elderly gentleman who struggled with bouts of absent-mindedness but he’d been around for decades so Blake couldn’t get rid of him. Also, he kinda liked him, not that he would admit it to anyone.

It was a small office, just made up of him, the other deputy, Austin, Jim and the five patrolmen. Their desks sat facing each other in the middle of the station with Blake and Austin’s offices running along the back wall next to the break room. The rickety stairs in the corner led down to the restroom and the two holding cells, one of which was full of police equipment and filing cabinets. Things were pretty slow in Citrus Pines.

“Morning Jim, busy day today?” Blake asked, pushing aside his still burning anger from his morning session. Jim knocked a stack of files on the floor and Blake tried not to roll his eyes.

“Oh yes, sir, busy day indeed,” Jim replied, ducking down to pick up the papers.

“You don’t need to call me sir, Jim,” Blake reminded him, picking up his messages from the notepad next to the main phone.

“I know, sir, but it’s hard to break old habits,” Jim said, smiling up at Blake and his bad mood melted away further. Blake nodded and headed into his office passing the patrolmen and waving in greeting. He dropped the messages on his desk and started moving around the stack of files which were…sticky? He lifted his fingers to his nose and delicately sniffed. Strawberry. Understanding dawned and he closed his eyes, threw back his head and yelled.

“AUSTIN! GET IN HERE!” He heard movement in the office next to him and then Austin blundered in.

“Yes, Deputy Miller?” he asked, worry lining his features. Blake took him in, floppy blond hair, too-young face, and a smear of something red and sticky down his white shirt.

“Did you have a donut this morning?”

“Why, yes, I did! How did you guess?” Austin replied, his expression one of awe.

“Because these files you left on my desk are covered in strawberry jelly,” Blake growled, and Austin had the decency to look embarrassed.

“Ah, sorry about that, won’t happen again.”

“Good. Now, what are these?” Blake asked, sifting through them, avoiding the sticky patches. Austin slowly came further into the room, approaching Blake like he would an angry bear.

“These are the leftover cases from Sheriff Black that you requested?” Austin replied. Blake nodded.

“Yes, great. Thank you, you can go now.” His tone still surly, Austin bobbed at him and then hurried out. Just as Blake was looking into the first file, Jim wandered in with another note for him.

“The Neighborhood Watch Society is meeting on Monday night. I didn’t know whether this was something you wanted to attend or if it was more Austin’s speed?” Jim said. Blake kicked back in his chair, swung his long legs up on the desk and thought for a moment.

“How often do they meet?” he asked.

“It’s every Monday at seven for an hour or so.”

Blake thought about it. He needed to gain the trust of the town so that when he was ready, they would get behind him as he ran his campaign for sheriff. This would be a good way to support the town, without getting personally involved. He could remain professional and keep them at a distance while also becoming engaged with the community.

“No, it’s fine, I’ll handle it,” Blake said, taking the note from Jim.

“Yes, it’ll be good to give Austin a break for a bit, he’s been running himself into the ground trying to manage things before you turned up, have you seen how tired he is?”

“Would you say he’s done a good job?” Blake asked. Jim eyed him and opened his mouth, then closed it again. “You can be honest; I would prefer it.” Blake added firmly. If he was to become sheriff, he needed to have confidence in his deputy.

Jim sighed and closed the door to the office for privacy. “He did a good job alright, but not with that young woman Rebelle when she turned up one day wanting to file a complaint.”

Blake scrubbed a hand over his jaw, tugging on the strands of his unkempt beard. “Rebelle? I’ve heard that name before?” he asked.

Jim nodded and sank down into one of the chairs opposite Blake’s desk. “Yes sir, Rebelle Black was married to the previous sheriff.” Jim looked about him furtively then when he spoke again, he dropped his voice to a whisper. “Some folks say it was her that shot him a few months ago. But the autopsy was inconclusive, could’ve been suicide, could’ve been accidental or it could have been murder.”

“Why would she kill him?” Blake asked, leaning forward, getting drawn into the intrigue. Jim looked around again.

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