look at the Police Chief—like he was a Gorgon for heaven’s sake. The plumbers had gone back to the counter to roll up blueprints and Beth looked towards them.
“Excuse me? Please start on the wiring and get gas to the water heater? I’m not paying any of your quotes though. How about you give me the same rate you give Cliff? I know it’s under the going rate…”
The Police Chief gently nudged her towards the door and she tossed back.
“But since you practically tried to rob me I’d say it’s fair!”
Only Sherman stuck with her, dogging the big cop’s steps and holding in his paunch as they moved through the door and down the porch steps.
“Excuse me, Chief? I’m Sherman Kelts. Surely this is overkill? Is this about her parking tickets? It’s hardly a criminal offense to ignore those, everybody does. I haven’t paid one myself in ten years.”
Easily darting past the man, the Police Chief expertly moved Beth along in front of him, one hand firmly on the small of her back. He didn’t reply. Sherman Kelts raced behind him fussing until the cop opened the back door of his patrol car and put a giant hand on the top of her head, shoving her just slightly less politely into the back seat. He tucked himself into the front and shut his door firmly right in Sherman’s pink face.
Beth piped up from the back of the squad car.
“That was rude. Did you know he’s a lawyer?”
The Chief’s good-looking partner caught Beth’s attention. His dark eyebrows shot up in mock surprise and he commented with a friendly grin, “Uh, oh.” The man swiveled completely in his seat and gave her such a welcoming smile that for a moment Beth forgot she was being arrested and felt like they were old friends. That would be if she had any old friends. Smiling blue eyes glanced towards her arms, which were uncomfortably wedged between her and the seat.
The cop apologized. “I’m really sorry about the handcuffs. Twist around and I’ll take them off. Are you Clan Huron?”
Before Beth could even open her mouth the dark haired cop spun around, facing forward, looking straight out the window. The Chief glared in his direction. Something about his expression suggested a shouted reprimand though not a word had come out of his mouth. Beth could see from the side view mirror that all traces of the nice cop’s smile had vanished. Odder still, the cop then immediately slumped against his seat and closed his eyes. It was the worst acting she had ever seen, like a kid trying to get out of school and pretending to be sick. What the heck was that about?
The Chief was watching her in the rearview mirror and he offered up his first words since he’d slapped the handcuffs on her.
“He has a problem with his blood sugar.”
Beth snorted, for pity’s sake what was wrong with this guy and why on earth did they let this nut be the Chief of Police, for that matter what was up with his pathetic little sidekick?
“He does not have low blood sugar, what is your deal? Why did you do this? Sherman will have half his law firm on this in the next few minutes. He already thinks he has a thing for me. The last thing I need is to be rescued from jail by Sherman Kelts!”
There was nothing about this that made much sense, but she wasn’t angry about being arrested, she was angry about the impending attention of Sherman Kelts. He’d spent the whole morning bragging about his law firm, his house, his condo in Mexico and a recent trip to Europe, the whole time with his eyes glued to her legs. Meeting the Chief’s gaze in the rearview mirror Beth had the distinct impression that Sherman’s attention bothered him too. That made no sense, but it felt true just the same.
The Chief, if she remembered correctly, was Kent Costas. Glancing at the steely eyes in the mirror, still looking at her, she had the oddest sensation that wasn’t really the man’s name. His big hands were squeezing the steering wheel as he began to recite her Miranda Rights.
“Excuse me? Please start on the wiring and get gas to the water heater? I’m not paying any of your quotes though. How about you give me the same rate you give Cliff? I know it’s under the going rate…”
The Police Chief gently nudged her towards the door and she tossed back.
“But since you practically tried to rob me I’d say it’s fair!”
Only Sherman stuck with her, dogging the big cop’s steps and holding in his paunch as they moved through the door and down the porch steps.
“Excuse me, Chief? I’m Sherman Kelts. Surely this is overkill? Is this about her parking tickets? It’s hardly a criminal offense to ignore those, everybody does. I haven’t paid one myself in ten years.”
Easily darting past the man, the Police Chief expertly moved Beth along in front of him, one hand firmly on the small of her back. He didn’t reply. Sherman Kelts raced behind him fussing until the cop opened the back door of his patrol car and put a giant hand on the top of her head, shoving her just slightly less politely into the back seat. He tucked himself into the front and shut his door firmly right in Sherman’s pink face.
Beth piped up from the back of the squad car.
“That was rude. Did you know he’s a lawyer?”
The Chief’s good-looking partner caught Beth’s attention. His dark eyebrows shot up in mock surprise and he commented with a friendly grin, “Uh, oh.” The man swiveled completely in his seat and gave her such a welcoming smile that for a moment Beth forgot she was being arrested and felt like they were old friends. That would be if she had any old friends. Smiling blue eyes glanced towards her arms, which were uncomfortably wedged between her and the seat.
The cop apologized. “I’m really sorry about the handcuffs. Twist around and I’ll take them off. Are you Clan Huron?”
Before Beth could even open her mouth the dark haired cop spun around, facing forward, looking straight out the window. The Chief glared in his direction. Something about his expression suggested a shouted reprimand though not a word had come out of his mouth. Beth could see from the side view mirror that all traces of the nice cop’s smile had vanished. Odder still, the cop then immediately slumped against his seat and closed his eyes. It was the worst acting she had ever seen, like a kid trying to get out of school and pretending to be sick. What the heck was that about?
The Chief was watching her in the rearview mirror and he offered up his first words since he’d slapped the handcuffs on her.
“He has a problem with his blood sugar.”
Beth snorted, for pity’s sake what was wrong with this guy and why on earth did they let this nut be the Chief of Police, for that matter what was up with his pathetic little sidekick?
“He does not have low blood sugar, what is your deal? Why did you do this? Sherman will have half his law firm on this in the next few minutes. He already thinks he has a thing for me. The last thing I need is to be rescued from jail by Sherman Kelts!”
There was nothing about this that made much sense, but she wasn’t angry about being arrested, she was angry about the impending attention of Sherman Kelts. He’d spent the whole morning bragging about his law firm, his house, his condo in Mexico and a recent trip to Europe, the whole time with his eyes glued to her legs. Meeting the Chief’s gaze in the rearview mirror Beth had the distinct impression that Sherman’s attention bothered him too. That made no sense, but it felt true just the same.
The Chief, if she remembered correctly, was Kent Costas. Glancing at the steely eyes in the mirror, still looking at her, she had the oddest sensation that wasn’t really the man’s name. His big hands were squeezing the steering wheel as he began to recite her Miranda Rights.
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