The Summerland by T. L. Schaefer

intriguing for his peace of mind. That and the fact that he’d always liked tall women. It was probably a good thing for both of them that she was married. He could feel his body’s response to her as clearly as his mind’s.
    “ Ma’am, I’m Sheriff Ashton, we spoke on the phone yesterday. Why don’t you come on back to my office? Gail, can you get Captain Jones some coffee or tea?” He tilted his head slightly to one side, questioning her preference.
    “ Um, coffee please, black.” She tried not to stare at the broad back preceding her. Her first thought was, wow, the cowboy sheriff lives .
    He filled the space around him, seeming to touch everyone and everything at once without even moving. It was intimidating and soothing at the same time, and, oddly enough, it made her feel safe.
    Arden was surprised that a man in his thirties would hold such a powerful position, even in a town as small as this one. He moved with a graceful solidity she hadn’t seen since her technical instructors at basic training. It was almost catlike, and told any interested observer that the Sheriff could and would take care of business with a minimum of fuss.
    And that voice, it rumbled and tumbled through her like thunder coming, flipping on every nerve ending in her body.
    Her thoughts were immediately colored by chagrin . I’m looking at this guy’s butt when I should be worried about my sister. What the hell am I thinking , Arden chastised herself. She might not have seen Samantha in years, but she was still her sister.
    She took the seat he politely held out to her, then looked slowly around his office while he took his own. The place was a disaster area. Arden inwardly cringed. The Sheriff may be a hunk, but how could he effectively investigate any crime in this jumble? Even the coat rack occupying one corner of the office looked chaotic, a seething mass of ball caps, cowboy hats, and windbreakers hanging on by one desperate arm. Muffled country-western music issued from one of the piles, but there were so many she couldn’t quite pinpoint the source. Her circuit of the room completed as Gail brought both of them coffee then closed the door behind her. The Sheriff was looking at her with amusement dancing in his eyes.
    “ Really, I know where everything is.” Then he laced his fingers together, leaning forward on his desk. His eyes focused on her, refreshed her, made her feel like the only person in the whole world. That kind of intensity and presence was comforting, unnerving and more than a little compelling.
    “ Captain Jones,” he began earnestly, “I really don’t know what else I can tell you that we didn’t speak of on the telephone yesterday. I realize this involves your sister, but I don’t think there’s much you can do here. We have no real evidence of foul play, just a sports bag and her cell phone. Our garage even diagnosed the breakdown as a matter of circumstance.”
    Arden dropped her eyes to her lap and rolled the Styrofoam coffee cup between her palms, warming her clammy hands. Taking a deep mental breath, she looked up back up, capturing his gaze. “Listen, Sheriff Ashton, right?” At his nod she continued, “I haven’t seen Samantha in over fifteen years, since before I joined the military. While I’ve never kept my whereabouts secret, we certainly weren’t in contact when my car was stolen. The fact that Samantha’s name even enters in this confuses me and worries me. She wouldn’t have hesitated to contact me if she needed something.”
    Ashton looked at her thoughtfully, leaning back in the creaky office chair. “Tell me something, Captain Jones. If you haven’t seen your sister in fifteen years, what makes you so sure she’d come to see you? It doesn’t sound like the two of you have a particularly close relationship.”
    His query, while fair, shook her nonetheless. “Good question.” She began, wondering how to even begin to paraphrase her on-again, off-again relationship with Sam.