Page 2 of An Unfinished Memory

“Get your ass home and then come here.”

“I’m trying, Eliot, but I’m on the phone with a pushy bastard?—”

“Smart-ass. You should’ve ridden with me.”

I should’ve, but I often worked over my shift’s endtime, and we both knew it, which was why Eliot had proposed the idea. I should have said from the start I couldn’t make it. I was less of a bad guy if I opted out instead of canceling. “I’m almost done. Maybe I can make the dance.”

“Sure. Hey—” he hollered, and I held the phone away from my ear. “That’s my steak, not yours, dog.”

I laughed, picturing Cody’s dog going after a distracted Eliot’s plate of food. “Save your meat. I gotta go.”

I looked at the time again. The nights I met up with family to grill were some of my favorites. I’d missed too many of them over the years. My shift was nearly over, getting off early didn’t happen, but maybe if I left as soon as I got done…

To finish out my shift, I took another lap through Buffalo Gully, the small town I grew up in and continued to live in. Outside of town a few miles, Knight land sprawled for miles, full of cattle and horses my brother ranched. I often helped him. Since I was on the payroll and all. Since I had to be.

A guy in a yard flagged me down, and my stomach sank. Jeremy Miller. I liked him enough, but Eliot’s call stuck with me. Got my hopes up. If something was wrong, I’d have to stay and help.

I pulled over. Jeremy was an old classmate of mine, happily married to his high school sweetheart, with a kid in college and a set of twins in their senior year of high school. The fucker was my age, and he’d lived an entire lifetime while I went home to an empty house to scratch my balls and watch ESPN.

I flashed him a tight smile and rolled down my window. “Whatcha need?”

“Nothing right now, but if you’re around this weekend, mind helping me tow Emily’s car in?”

Emily was one of the seniors. I hadn’t heard anything was wrong, but relief cooled the back of my neck. He didn’t need anything now. “What happened?”

“Transmission went out on Quarry Road. Leonard’s got family over this weekend. I hate to call him.”

Leonard had worked as a mechanic since I came back from college. Leonard was like me. Someone needed him, he went out to help, and everyone knew it.

“I’ll call you before I go out to the ranch.” Whether I was heading to Crocus Valley or staying, I had plans to meet Eliot in the afternoon. He’d probably drive back at dawn. I should have time to give Jeremy a hand and let Leonard have time with his visitors. “I’ve got a tow rope in my pickup. Maybe I can get Ray to come out with me.”

Jeremy grinned. “Nice. I get to have the sheriff at my beck and call. I was going to call him, but then I saw you passing.”

Ray Dahlen was my boss and mentor, an all-around nice guy, unless you were breaking the law. He took the safety of this county personally, and since he lived and worked in Buffalo Gully, he took special care of every one of its residents. I strove to be as respected as him.

Jeremy rimmed his hands around his khaki shorts, giving his striped polo shirt a good tuck. The New Balance shoes on his feet were white. He was in his middle-aged-dad glory.

An ache reignited behind my chest wall. The dad ship had sailed for me, and I was okay with it. Then I saw guys like Jeremy working in their yards with houses full offamily, and the what-could-have-beens hit harder than usual. “See you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Wilder. I owe you. Hey—are you going to be the resource officer at the school again this year?”

I smiled and tamped down the impatience his small talk was causing. I looked forward to the start of school in a little over a month and the distractions working with the students brought. The town was small enough I knew each kid by name, and being around that much teen spirit was a nice break from the cases that kept me up at night. “How else can I see all the games for free?”

He laughed. “I know, right? With two kids going all year, those entry fees add up. Thanks for stopping. See you tomorrow.”

I waved and pulled away. Two blocks later, I was stopping again. Frustration ate at my stomach lining. I normally wasn’t this salty about being helpful, but the school librarian, Annie, was in her driveway with her ten-year-old son, trying to load a push mower into the back of her pickup. They picked it up, one end dropped, and I worried the boy would lose a foot if he dropped the front end.

I got out and jogged toward them.

“Oh, Wilder. Thank goodness.” She grinned, sheepish. “I overestimated all the strength I built up hauling books all day.”

“Not a problem.” Between the three of us, we tossed the mower in the back like it weighed two pounds. I withdrew a tissue from my pocket and brushed the grass bits and grease residue off my hands. I made little progress, but I was grateful the mess wasn’t either of their body fluids from an emergency call. If I wanted to get to the dance and spend any timewith my family, I’d have to leave now. As it was, they’d all be heading out for the night, and I’d only get snippets of conversation between dances. I wouldn’t get to see as much ofher.

“It’s my father-in-law’s,” Annie explained. “Ours broke down, and Dorian’s at guards this weekend. I’ve gotta return it so he can mow before the rain forecasted next week.”

Dorian was her husband. Her father-in-law had back surgery last year, but I doubted it’d stop him from trying to unload the mower. If I left her to deliver the mower, one of them might get hurt.

There was no way I wouldn’t feel responsible.

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