Page 38 of Jack's Legacy
She offered a simple nod, then drove home with her thoughts in turmoil. David's touch was already fading from memory while the ghost of Jack's kisses lingered like a brand on her skin, years after it had last been real.
14
The North Heron Sheriff's Office sat in the middle of Easton, the tiny town that served as the county seat. The brick building had been expanded over the years as the county grew, and now the complex included the regional jail and the courthouse as part of the annex.
Jack pulled his SUV into the parking lot at seven forty, twenty minutes before the morning briefing. He killed the engine and sat for a moment, his hands resting on the steering wheel, watching the early light catch the dew on the pavement.
This was it.
He'd spent years working toward this exact moment. Navy training, ship security, law enforcement certifications, and the grueling application process. All of it had led Jack to here, to this building, and to the badge that sat in the inside pocket of his jacket.
He’d only been home a day, but hadn’t wanted to waste any time. He’d settled into his apartment room over the garage and unpacked yesterday. Today was for work. And as soon as the weekend came, he wanted to reunite with Rachel.
Jack pulled a slow breath through his nose and let it out. Then he grabbed his jacket from the seat beside him and stepped out into the cool morning air.
He pushed through the main doors, and the familiar smell of the building greeted him. He'd been inside this station more times than he could count over the years, first as a kid tagging along with Colt and later during his own high school years when he'd come to pick up paperwork or drop something off. But walking through those doors as a detective was different. The building felt the same, the halls looked the same, but Jack was not the same boy who used to run his fingers along the wall as he followed his dad down the corridor.
He nodded at the officer at the front desk and jogged up the stairs to the third floor. The hallway opened up into the detectives' bullpen, and Jack paused in the doorway for just a second, taking it in.
It was a large room, wider than he remembered. Desks were arranged in pairs facing each other, each set equipped with laptops, file folders, and the kind of organized clutter that came from people who spent long hours at their work. The low hum of conversation and the occasional tapping of keyboards filled the space.
A few heads turned when he walked in. Sam Shackley looked up from his desk and gave Jack a chin lift along with a wide grin. Aaron Bergstrom lifted a coffee mug in greeting. Elizabeth Perez offered a smile before returning to her computer screen.
Jack made his way to the empty desk across from Mark Robbins and draped his jacket over the back of the chair. Mark was already there, which didn't surprise him. The man had a spotless reputation.
Mark looked up, and Jack saw the detective he remembered from years past… tall and dark-haired, with silver at his temples now and fine lines at the corners of his dark eyes. He wore a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms, a badge clipped to his belt, and the kind of calm, unhurried expression Jack had come to recognize as meaning the man was paying attention to everything.
“Jack, good to have you back and thrilled to have you as a partner.” Mark’s voice was low and even as he extended his hand across the desk.
Jack shook it firmly. “Mark. Good morning. It's good to be here.”
Mark's grip was solid, deliberate. He held Jack's gaze for just a beat longer than a casual handshake required, and Jack understood the unspoken message. Mark wasn't going to treat him like a kid. He wasn't going to make an issue of the fact that Jack was Colt's son. He was simply going to treat him like a partner.
Jack appreciated that more than he could say.
“Coffee's over there.” Mark nodded toward the small kitchen alcove. “You'll want a cup before Colt gets started.”
Jack grabbed a cup of black coffee and settled back into his chair. The bullpen was filling up now, chairs scraping back, conversations overlapping. He watched the room come to life around him and felt something loosen in his chest. This was where he belonged.
The door at the front of the bullpen opened, and Colt Hudson walked in. The sheriff. The boss. His dad.
His dad’s authority came from somewhere quieter than his size. Every person in the bullpen straightened just slightly when he appeared. Colt's gaze found Jack almost immediately. Pride flickered across his face, easy enough for Jack to see, but Colt didn't linger on it. He simply nodded once and moved to the front.
“Morning.” Colt’s voice carried without effort. The bullpen went quiet. “Got a new detective joining us as of today.”
He turned and gestured toward Jack. “Most of you know Jack Hudson. After graduating from the Naval Academy, he served in the Navy, including time as a ship's security officer. He completed his law enforcement certifications and went through the same hiring process as everyone else in this room.” Colt's eyes moved across the bullpen, steady and even. “He earned this. Welcome aboard.”
The applause was genuine.
“Congratulations, Hudson,” Sam called out. “About damn time you came back to carry on the legacy!”
A few chuckles rippled through the room, and Jack felt the tension he'd been carrying ease.
“He'll partner with Mark,” Colt added, and nothing in his voice suggested the assignment was anything other than standard procedure.
Jack caught Mark's eye across the desk. Mark smiled and gave him a single nod.
Colt wrapped up the morning briefing with a few other items, his words clipped and purposeful. When he finished, the bullpen dispersed back to their desks.
