about him with a few questions of his own, he supposed. Somehow he had a feeling it would enliven the breakfast table if he were to ask what she’d been doing.
Zach stepped off the curb, and then did a quick leap back when a car screeched to a halt right in front of him, close enough that he could feel the heat of it. A cop car, he noted.
He waited, tension running through him, not sure what was happening. A moment’s pause, and then a big guy in uniform slid out of the driver’s door. He stepped into the circle of light from the streetlamp, and Zach recognized him. Ted Singer. A year or two ahead of him in high school, a jock, inclined to resent or bully anyone who was different.
Zach had had his share of run-ins with Ted in those days, usually when he’d found the guy picking on someone who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, fight back. Ted had outweighed him, but Zach’d been quick, and he liked to think he’d given as good as he’d gotten.
Strange, that someone like Ted had ended up a cop. Still, maybe he’d outgrown his bad habits since high school. After all, Jake Evans hadn’t treated him as he’d expected.
A flashlight beam hit him in the face. “What are you doing here?”
Maybe Ted accosted every stranger to Deer Run that way, but somehow he doubted it.
“Taking a walk. How’re you doing, Ted?” Zach made an effort to keep his tone easy, tamping down the temptation to snap back.
Singer took a step closer. He had a couple of inches on Zach, and if anything was even beefier than he’d been in high school. “Do I know you?”
Ted was pretending not to recognize him, even though everyone in town had to know he was back by now. If it wasn’t pretense, Ted wasn’t much of a cop. But no, he could feel the antagonism flowing toward him.
“Zach Randal.” He waited, sure he knew what was coming next.
“Randal.” Singer ground out the name. “It seems to me there’s an outstanding theft charge against you, Randal. You come back to face the music?”
If he hadn’t been so annoyed, he’d have laughed. Singer was doing a hackneyed imitation of a tough cop in an ’80s film.
“If you remember the complaint, you must also remember that it was dropped.” He considered pulling out his shield, but with the mood Singer was in, that might make things worse.
“Not sure I do.” Singer jerked a thumb toward the patrol car. “Let’s go back to the station while I run a check.”
His jaw tightened, and it took an effort to unclench it. He held up both hands, palms open. “In that case, I’ll just pull out my cell phone and call my attorney, Jake Evans. It’ll be like old home week. We can talk about old times while Jake draws up a complaint against you. Should make for interesting reading for the chief when he comes on duty in the morning, right?”
Singer’s hands clenched into fists. Zach could see the desire to take a swing and braced himself, fighting down the urge to react. Don’t start it. Whatever you do, don’t start it.
Singer loomed over him a moment longer. Then he moved back. “You take one step out of line and I’ll land on you. That’s a promise.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” Zach forced his voice to stay casual.
“You always were trash.” Singer stalked to the car, slid in and pulled out with a shriek of tires. “People don’t change,” he called out over the noise.
Zach didn’t move until the taillights disappeared around the corner. Funny. Singer certainly hadn’t changed.
Zach’s desire to take a walk had vanished, but he went on to the end of the block before turning back, just to prove he could.
He’d made an enemy. Not surprising, but that hadn’t been his intent in coming back. He’d wanted to clear the slate and walk away. Maybe he’d been naïve to think he could.
* * *
M EREDITH FOUND HER THOUGHTS straying as she tried to focus on the spreadsheet in front of her the next morning. Her mother had taken an early shift at the flower stand, so she was
Zach stepped off the curb, and then did a quick leap back when a car screeched to a halt right in front of him, close enough that he could feel the heat of it. A cop car, he noted.
He waited, tension running through him, not sure what was happening. A moment’s pause, and then a big guy in uniform slid out of the driver’s door. He stepped into the circle of light from the streetlamp, and Zach recognized him. Ted Singer. A year or two ahead of him in high school, a jock, inclined to resent or bully anyone who was different.
Zach had had his share of run-ins with Ted in those days, usually when he’d found the guy picking on someone who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, fight back. Ted had outweighed him, but Zach’d been quick, and he liked to think he’d given as good as he’d gotten.
Strange, that someone like Ted had ended up a cop. Still, maybe he’d outgrown his bad habits since high school. After all, Jake Evans hadn’t treated him as he’d expected.
A flashlight beam hit him in the face. “What are you doing here?”
Maybe Ted accosted every stranger to Deer Run that way, but somehow he doubted it.
“Taking a walk. How’re you doing, Ted?” Zach made an effort to keep his tone easy, tamping down the temptation to snap back.
Singer took a step closer. He had a couple of inches on Zach, and if anything was even beefier than he’d been in high school. “Do I know you?”
Ted was pretending not to recognize him, even though everyone in town had to know he was back by now. If it wasn’t pretense, Ted wasn’t much of a cop. But no, he could feel the antagonism flowing toward him.
“Zach Randal.” He waited, sure he knew what was coming next.
“Randal.” Singer ground out the name. “It seems to me there’s an outstanding theft charge against you, Randal. You come back to face the music?”
If he hadn’t been so annoyed, he’d have laughed. Singer was doing a hackneyed imitation of a tough cop in an ’80s film.
“If you remember the complaint, you must also remember that it was dropped.” He considered pulling out his shield, but with the mood Singer was in, that might make things worse.
“Not sure I do.” Singer jerked a thumb toward the patrol car. “Let’s go back to the station while I run a check.”
His jaw tightened, and it took an effort to unclench it. He held up both hands, palms open. “In that case, I’ll just pull out my cell phone and call my attorney, Jake Evans. It’ll be like old home week. We can talk about old times while Jake draws up a complaint against you. Should make for interesting reading for the chief when he comes on duty in the morning, right?”
Singer’s hands clenched into fists. Zach could see the desire to take a swing and braced himself, fighting down the urge to react. Don’t start it. Whatever you do, don’t start it.
Singer loomed over him a moment longer. Then he moved back. “You take one step out of line and I’ll land on you. That’s a promise.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” Zach forced his voice to stay casual.
“You always were trash.” Singer stalked to the car, slid in and pulled out with a shriek of tires. “People don’t change,” he called out over the noise.
Zach didn’t move until the taillights disappeared around the corner. Funny. Singer certainly hadn’t changed.
Zach’s desire to take a walk had vanished, but he went on to the end of the block before turning back, just to prove he could.
He’d made an enemy. Not surprising, but that hadn’t been his intent in coming back. He’d wanted to clear the slate and walk away. Maybe he’d been naïve to think he could.
* * *
M EREDITH FOUND HER THOUGHTS straying as she tried to focus on the spreadsheet in front of her the next morning. Her mother had taken an early shift at the flower stand, so she was
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