Page 82 of Wild Embers
“Oh, you're one of the smart ones.” She fishes around in her desk drawer before producing a dog biscuit wrapped in plastic. “Every police station needs emergency treats.”
“You just happened to have those?” I laugh.
“I have granddogs.” She tears open the wrapper and offers the biscuit to Bear. “And deputies who forget to eat lunch. Somebody around here appreciates snacks.”
Bear accepts the treat with surprising gentleness.
“Well,” Jolene says, scratching behind one floppy ear, “I think you can come to work whenever you want.”
“Thank you.” I smile.
Jolene switches back into work mode. “We got a hit and run. Wait for the witness over there.” She points to the same spot behind her where Mrs. Talbot sat yesterday.
“Thanks.” I dip my head as I make my way to two empty chairs beside the two desks. The desks are vacant just likebefore. The only sign that anyone uses them is the coffee rings stained on the wood and the mess of paperwork.
A printer hums somewhere deeper inside the station while a radio crackles softly overhead with dispatch chatter. The lingering smell of burnt coffee competes with old paper and pine cleaner. Small-town police station.
A large body stops me in my path. “What’re you doing here?”
Jolene answers for me. “She’s working. Same as you.”
Walker squints at me. “You don’t work here.”
Clearing my throat, I stand to my full height and pull my shoulders back. “Actually, I do.”
“Since when?” Walker’s large frame looms over me, but he doesn't intimidate me. I know he would never hurt me.
“Yesterday. Jo hired me.” I sass at him.
If he's shocked, he does a good job of keeping the emotion off his face. “Well, I’m firing you.”
My eye twitches. The man has spent less than thirty seconds in my presence today, and he's already testing my patience.
And yet, the way his arms fill out his shirt and the fact that I can count the ridges of his abdomen through the fabric have me clenching my thighs together.
My lady bits need to get with the program. We’re mad at Walker, not ready to jump his bones.
“No, you’re not,” Jolene interjects. “We need her.” Jolene rises from her chair, places her hands on my shoulders, and steers me around Walker. “Ignore him, Blake. Go do your thing.”
Doing as she says, I overhear Walker continue to object. “I don’t want her on the damn payroll.”
“Good thing she’s a volunteer.” Jolene quips back. “Now go get the Delaney kid, so Blake can do the sketch.”
Dropping my head, I bit my lip to keep an amused smile off my face.
“Sometimes I wonder who’s the boss around here,” Walker grumbles as he strides toward his office. On his way, Ridge passes Walker, heading in my direction. Walker pulls a plastic bag from his pocket and shoves it onto Ridge’s chest.
Ridge stumbles a step backward, catching the bag before it can fall to the floor. “What’s this?” Ridge spins toward Walker.
“The paper from Derek’s mouth,” Walker voices over his shoulder. He stops in the doorway of his office and faces Ridge. “The partial symbol on the paper is the fire department logo.”
I can only guess the look on Ridge’s face, but I have a good idea by the way his shoulders sag. “How did I miss that?”
Walker keeps his tone even, but knowing him my whole life, I know it’s his way of going easy on someone. “You missed it because you were looking for what you expected to find. When investigating, you have to leave all bias at the door.”
“How?” Ridge angles his head to the side.
“You have to learn how to be your own devil’s advocate,” Walker explains.
