The Police Chief's Pitch
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Janice Sims
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CHAPTER ONE
CHIEF OF POLICE David Harrison strode purposefully along the sparsely crowded sidewalk in downtown Port Domingo on Saturday morning, heading to the new supermarket. It was his day off; however, one of his officers had a crisis at home, so until another officer could come relieve him, he was filling in for her as security at the store. In the past few months, lots of positive changes had been made in the town that had started out as a small fishing village on Florida’s Emerald Coast. First, the supermarket had opened, taking pride of place in the downtown area. Then Mason’s Bed and Breakfast, due to a partnership with the Nishimura Group, had gone through a transformation, adding more accommodations for the influx of visitors. The inn even boasted a peaceful Japanese tea garden on the grounds that had lately become the “in” spot for weddings. Dave was glad of the changes but worried that with more visitors and new residents spilling into Port Domingo, the crime rate would increase.
“Mornin’, Chief! Don’t you look dapper. What’s with the new hat?” Wanda Garrett, owner of the bakery he was passing, stepped outside, halting him in his tracks. He should have known he wasn’t going to get past her. Wanda always found a way to flirt with him whenever she glimpsed him. It was all harmless, though. She was a happily married woman.
A tall, buxom redhead in her forties, Wanda gave him a warm smile. She was wearing a long-sleeved blouse over blue jeans and her customary white athletic shoes. Her green eyes sparkled in her attractive face as she waited expectantly for his response.
“Good morning, Mrs. Garrett,” Dave said, smiling back and touching the brim of his tan cowboy hat with its dark brown band in a gentlemanly gesture. “This is, indeed, a new hat. It’s my mother’s opinion that the chief should not be wearing a Braves baseball cap while carrying out his duties, but something with a little more dignity.”
Wanda regarded him with a critical eye. He felt kind of naked for a moment, and in spite of the pleasant, mild temperatures this March morning, he suddenly wished he was wearing more than his long-sleeved blue-and-white-checked shirt, open at the collar, with a pair of jeans, his favorite brown cowboy boots and his new hat. He wasn’t in uniform because he was supposed to be able to pass for a shopper today instead of a law enforcement officer.
After much consideration, Wanda said, “I’m a Braves fan, therefore I have to disagree with Miss Margaret. But don’t tell her I said so because I don’t want to be told to mind my own business in Italian. I wouldn’t know what she was saying, but I’m sure it would be delivered with gusto.”
They laughed.
It was true, his mother, Anna Margherita Caruso-Harrison, an Italian immigrant who’d married a Southern Irish-American and become known as Margaret due to the fact that the people in this part of the country found Margherita hard to pronounce, was known for lapsing into fiery Italian when she got excited.
“Yeah, it’s best not to go there.”
Wanda nodded in the direction of the new supermarket. “They’re going to put me out of business before long.”
Dave gave her a sympathetic smile. “I know they have a bakery in there, but it doesn’t compare to yours. You have lots of loyal customers.”
“Loyal customers who might want to save money on their treats. I can’t compete with a chain.”
“The quality of your baked goods is way above theirs,” Dave stated with conviction, hoping to allay her worries.
Wanda laughed softly. “This coming from a policeman who doesn’t even eat donuts,” she playfully scoffed.
“I’ve got to watch my waistline,” Dave said. They’d had this conversation before and it had always ended on a light note. Her comment did make him wonder how the new supermarket was going to affect the small shop owners, though. He’d hate to see any of them go out of business due to the competition.
“My department will always patronize your bakery,” he promised her. He might not eat pastries but plenty of others on his staff did.
That put a bigger smile on Wanda’s face. “And you all have been good customers over the years. I’m sorry for being so glum. It’s one of those days.”
“Well, cheer up,” Dave said with a quick nod at the tall gentleman walking across the street and making his way toward the bakery. Mayor Tom Steadman stopped in front of Dave and Wanda. His brown eyes focused on Wanda.
“Good morning, pretty lady.”
“Good morning, Mayor,” Wanda said cheerfully.
“Two dozen of your finest, please. I can’t start my day without one of your delicious confections.”
Wanda beamed. “Right away.” And she hurried back inside of the bakery to fill his order.
“Good morning, Tom,” Dave said to the mayor in her absence.
Tom, a tall, muscular African American in his late forties, attired in his usual suit and tie with highly polished leather dress shoes, had strands of gray in his close-cropped Afro, a pleasant face given to smiling and brown eyes that reflected his emotions. So Dave knew that something was bothering the mayor when he turned his gaze on him.
“Dave,” Tom said, raking his big palm across his moist forehead as he spoke. “The supermarket has been open only a few months and I’ve been told they’ve already got a shoplifting problem over there. Kids, probably. But we’ve got to nip that in the bud. If the kids are doing it as a prank, we’ve got to set them straight. And if they’re doing it because they’re hungry, why, we’ve got programs in this town to address that problem.”
Dave nodded in agreement. His officers were on the case. In fact, one of his people was always in the supermarket in plain clothes, keeping an eye on everything. Two teen boys had been caught stealing minor things and sternly spoken to and released into their parents’ care. In both instances it had been a first-time offense. They’d been given a warning of what would happen if they committed another violation. Both had promised to never do it again.
“We’re aware, and we’re on it,” Dave assured the mayor. “I’m heading there now to fill in for one of my officers.”
Tom laughed shortly. “I’m sure your presence will make any shoplifter think twice, but as for blending in? I don’t think so. Everyone knows you, Dave.”
Dave smiled. “Oh, believe me, I don’t expect to see any action this morning.”
Then he touched the brim of his hat in farewell to Tom. “Have a nice day, Mayor.”
“You, too, Chief,” Tom said, his eyes still lit by laughter.
DARLA CRAMER WAS in the produce section of the supermarket, choosing a cantaloupe, when she heard someone say her name. At first she thought someone was calling to her. But then she glanced to her left and saw two women she didn’t recognize with their heads together, one of them with a hand cupped at the side of her mouth as though it would muffle her words.
No such luck. Darla heard the woman whisper, “She should be ashamed to show her face, the way she treated Sebastian.” The acoustics in this new supermarket were excellent.
It wasn’t the first time Darla had encountered people gossiping about her since moving back to her hometown around six months ago to get to know her son, Bastian. Bastian’s father, Sebastian, had been decent toward her. He had been kind enough to let her back into Bastian’s life. However, some people couldn’t resist expressing their disappointment in her behavior.
Maybe if they knew how disappointed she was in herself, they’d be willing to give her a break. Because no one was harder on her than she was when it came to heaping recriminations on her head.
The mere fact that she’d missed the first five years of Bastian’s life was enough to keep her up nights, calling herself all kinds of a fool for running away instead of toughing it out when she found herself in a panic after giving birth to Bastian.
What’s more, she had known nothing about postpartum depression back then and believed her pessimism and lack of joy at being a new mother made her an aberration. Wasn’t becoming a mother a time for celebrating, not panicking and thinking that your life, as you knew it, was over?
She knew now how off her reasoning had been. Because when you become a mother, your life as you know it is indeed over.
But in a good way. You change, you grow. That new life enhances yours and you learn so much from one another. Today, she wouldn’t trade Bastian for anything in the world. Every day she found a new reason to love him more. And the love he gave her in return gave her life.
If only she had confided in someone back then, instead of internalizing everything and letting the emotions build until she wound up doing something desperate. That desperate thing turned out to be running away with a rock guitarist whose career was waning and who needed an ego boost in the form of a starry-eyed groupie whose only goal was to escape her life. When she came to her senses, she left him. But she was too ashamed to go back home.
It took her almost five years to get up the courage to go back to Port Domingo. She worked on herself while she was away. She trained as a nurse so that she would have marketable skills and be able to support herself and Bastian. She worked at fast-food restaurants to fund her education. Finally, when she felt she had something to offer Bastian, she came home and asked Sebastian to let her back into Bastian’s life. Oh, it hadn’t been that easy. She’d bungled her initial meeting with Sebastian because she’d been nervous and they’d wound up in a shouting match. But soon, they’d understood each other and Sebastian was willing to share Bastian with her.
Today, they worked well together. They had agreed that Bastian would live with Sebastian and his wife, Marley, on weekdays during the school year, coming to her on weekends, then would spend the summer months with her. They all lived in Port Domingo, so arrangements were a breeze to manage. She was happy now. She was still living with her mother, though, and was saving to get her own place. However, she had a well-paying job as a private nurse for a gentleman of means in town who had an advanced case of Parkinson’s but wanted to remain in his own home instead of going to an assisted-care facility. Her existence was quiet and ordered. Just like she liked it.
The women continued to whisper to each other, casting furtive glances in her direction. She moved away from the cantaloupes and pushed her cart out of the produce section, thinking if she ignored them, they’d be happy with a few chosen words of contempt and things wouldn’t escalate.
ABOUT TWO HOURS after he’d gone undercover at the supermarket, Dave was more than ready to be relieved by Officer Plummer. He’d never spent this much time in a supermarket before. Usually he dashed in and picked up a few items and was out of here. He didn’t know how shoppers with carts filled to the brim could stand the Muzak in the background or the constant hum of human voices and babies crying. Josh had texted that he was on the way, so Dave figured he’d be out of here in about five minutes.
He strolled into the produce section, and that was when he spotted her: Darla Crammer, looking beautiful in just jeans, a T-shirt and tennis shoes. He hadn’t seen her since he and his deputies had assisted in finding her son, Bastian, the day he decided to go on an adventure by climbing his grandmother’s backyard fence and following a puppy home almost six months ago.
His heartbeat sped up. Then it slowed down as he got ahold of himself. He sighed softly. No use entertaining romantic thoughts about Darla Cramer. It was a hard habit to break, though, because he’d had a crush on her since they were in high school.
He surreptitiously studied her face. She looked sad but somehow resigned. He followed her gaze. Two women were engaged in conversation. One of them was Joyce Hines, whom he’d also known since high school. Joyce had been a bully back then. Mean-spirited, selfish and always making trouble for someone else. He’d been able to avoid her in recent years.
That evil expression in Joyce’s eyes told him she was up to no good right now. He saw Darla push her cart out of the produce section and breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe the situation had all been in his imagination. But then Joyce and the other unidentified woman followed Darla. He followed them.
By the time he rounded a corner, the two women had Darla’s cart trapped between their shopping carts.
“Well, if it isn’t Beyoncé,” he heard Joyce say to Darla, her tone dripping with acid. She addressed the woman who was with her. “When we were in high school, Miss Darla here and two of her friends sang together and Darla was the one in the middle. The glamorous one.”
Then back to Darla. “I heard J. J. Starr kicked you out years ago. What took you so long to come crawling back home?”
To her credit, Darla didn’t even wince at Joyce’s nasty words. Dave watched as Darla drew herself up to her full height. Which was about five-five. Still, he was impressed with the steely expression in her lovely brown eyes.
Darla smiled at Joyce. “You know, I didn’t recognize you a moment ago. But now I do. Joyce Hines.” From his vantage point, he saw the smile on her face be replaced by a more serious countenance. “You remember when Marley, Kaye and I used to sing together, huh? Well, I was a naive kid in high school. I was so convinced that I was going to be a star. But, you know, I’ve grown up since then. That moment of madness I experienced when I took off with J. J. Starr taught me a few things about life. One thing it taught me was that your problems can’t be solved by running away from them. You have to stick around and face them. What about you, Joyce? How is life treating you these days?”
Her smile returned, brighter than ever, as she awaited Joyce’s reply. But Joyce looked stunned. Dave supposed it was because Joyce had expected Darla to spout vitriol right back at her. She had no comeback for Darla’s calm, measured response to her hatred. Joyce just stood there with an “Ah...” coming out of her mouth, and nothing else.
Since apparently Joyce wasn’t capable of communicating at the moment, Darla said to the anonymous friend, “Tell Joyce it was a pleasure seeing her again.”
Then she turned her back on the two women and pushed her cart down another aisle. Of course, that was when she looked up and locked eyes with him. He was grinning so wide, he was sure he looked like a fool, but he couldn’t help it. He was proud of her. He hadn’t figured out how he was going to defuse the situation should it turn into an altercation. Now he saw that Darla hadn’t needed his help at all.
Darla shocked him by laughing out loud and saying “Chief! I’m so happy I ran into you. Are you busy right now? If not, would you like to have a cup of coffee with me? I’ve been meaning to properly thank you for helping to bring Bastian home safely when he decided to break out of prison.”
Dave was thunderstruck again by her invitation, but tried to play it off by chuckling himself and saying, “Is that what you call it, a prison break? And, yes, I’m totally free. I’d love to have a cup of coffee with you.” He glanced down at her shopping cart. “But aren’t you shopping?”
Darla shrugged. “I haven’t put anything in there that won’t keep for a few minutes. I’ll come back later and finish shopping.” She parked the cart out of the way of other shoppers.
Dave was suddenly distracted by Officer Josh Plummer walking toward them, looking like he was getting ready to say something to him once he got closer. Dave threw Josh a thumbs-up sign. Josh acknowledged with a thumbs-up of his own.
“That sounds great,” he said, meeting Darla’s eyes.
“I like your hat,” she said brightly as they began walking toward the supermarket’s exit. He was beginning to think of it as his lucky hat.
