28. Sam

28

SAM

"Feelin' lower than a bow-legged caterpillar." ~ Archie "Witty" Whitlock

"I tell you what, lookin' at you is like your daddy's standin' right in front of me." Velma Ferguson shook her head as she bagged up my energy drink and protein bar. I'd stopped into the Pit Stop for gas and snacks halfway through my shift. "You know, I had a crush on your daddy right before I met Denny, that no-good two-timer."

Apparently, she had a type. Velma and Denny Ferguson were recently divorced. Word was Denny was stepping out on Velma with Annabelle Dixon. Since she had just referred to him as a two-timer, I tended to believe the rumors were true.

"Is that right?" I asked, pretending to be surprised.

The truth was, most of the women in town around my dad's age, or twenty years on either side of him, had eyes for my father. Even more than two decades after his death, they still got starry-eyed talking about him.

"Sure is. You know, he'd be so proud of you."

Would he? I thought to myself. He'd barely even noticed I existed when he was alive. He was too busy breaking my mom's heart with half the female population of Texas.

"Good to see ya back on the streets, Officer Whitlock!" Velma saluted me after she handed me my bag.

"Thanks." I nodded to her as I headed out to the Wishing Well PD SUV. It felt nice to be back in that thing. There was something so right about being behind the wheel and being out in town with the people. The last few weeks had taught me that a desk job was not for me. I was going stir-crazy. Of course, some of that might have to do with a certain redhead. If the job was the stir, she was definitely the crazy

Today was my first day off desk duty. I was covering for Kane, who was at his baby mama's rehearsal dinner. Taylor and Remi were getting married tomorrow, and Kane would be walking the bride-to-be down the aisle.

As maid of honor and cousin to the bride, I was sure that Kenna was at the rehearsal dinner, too. Before we'd slept together, I would know whether she was there or not. Now, I was just assuming.

We went from talking and texting every day to nothing. No contact. No communication. She'd said that we had to stop hooking up to save our friendship, so nothing would change, but I was scared it was too late for that.

I'd spent every second of every day overanalyzing what had happened between us. On one hand, I couldn't be any happier that I'd been her first. If it had been someone else, I'd have seen red. It was right that it was me. On the other hand, what if I'd totally fucked up the most important relationship I had in my life?

For years, decades, I'd ignored my feelings for Kenna. I'd locked them up and thrown away the key. I'd forced myself not to reveal them or act on them. I'd done all that so I wouldn't hurt her, so I wouldn't lose her, but now it felt like I had done both. The tortured look on her face when I left her house was forever etched in my mind. I saw it every time I closed my eyes.

The radio clipped to my shoulder crackled, and Betty's voice came through the static.

"We've got a couple of reports of a suspicious vehicle on the side of the highway just past Corral Junction."

"I'm on my way."

"Be safe!" Betty called out as I climbed into the SUV and headed out to the highway.

On the drive out of town, I passed Goodfella's pizza parlor, where I knew the rehearsal dinner was going to be held. I glanced inside the glass storefront to see if I could catch a glimpse of red hair. I didn't.

The only time I'd seen Kenna in the past two weeks had been on my security camera. She was avoiding me, and I wasn't exactly sure why. Did she regret what we'd done? Had it changed her feelings for me completely? Was she mad at me? Was she embarrassed about what we'd done?

Tomorrow, at Taylor and Remi's wedding, I wondered if she would ignore me. Was this our new relationship? Or non -relationship, I should say. The biggest fear I'd had about crossing the line with her had come true.

Ten minutes of overthinking later, I pulled up behind an older model, four-door, champagne-colored Honda Accord that was sitting on the side of the highway. I typed the license plate into the system to see if anything came up. Nothing was flagged as suspicious. It came back as a vehicle registered to Morgan Adler.

Even though the plate was above board, I still approached the vehicle with caution. Once I got to the rear of it, I saw a woman sitting in the driver's seat. She appeared to be asleep. I would be concerned that she was unconscious due to foul play or a health issue, but her mouth was wide open, and I could hear her snoring from the back of the vehicle.

As I walked around the side of it, I glanced in the backseat and saw that it was empty. When I got to the driver's side window, I tapped on it. The woman's eyes fluttered open, and she looked confused. She started to turn her head and take in her surroundings when she noticed me. She jumped and screamed, clearly startled that I was there.

Her hand was on her chest as she rolled the window down. "Sorry, I um, I didn't see you."

"Everything okay?" I asked as I checked her pupils and sniffed the air to see if I smelled any alcohol. She wasn't slurring her words, but she had been passed out behind the wheel on the side of the road.

"Yes, sorry." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I work nights at the steel plant, and yesterday, I didn't get to sleep because my dad had an episode. He's, um…it doesn't matter. I'm his carer on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and usually I can take a nap, but yesterday. Anyway, I realized I was nodding off on my drive home, so I thought I should just pull over and close my eyes for a power nap. I only meant to take a quick ten, but I must have just conked out. That was…" She glanced down at her watch. "Holy shit! That was five hours ago."

"Can I see your license and registration?"

"Oh, yeah. Of course. Yes." She reached behind the seat and retrieved her purse.

As I watched her rummage through it, I realized she was attractive— very attractive. She reminded me of a young Angelina Jolie. Full lips. Big baby blue eyes. Long chestnut hair. She was stunning. Normally, it wouldn't have taken me an entire conversation to observe that. But these past few weeks, it was like other women were invisible to me.

Now, even seeing someone as beautiful as this woman, it just felt like I was appreciating a sunset or a piece of art. Her attractiveness was purely academic. It was like my brain knew it to be true because I had eyes, but that information wasn't translating to anything more personal than knowing the sky was blue.

It was strange.

Earlier in the week, Kane had accused me of being invaded by a body snatcher. He said I'd lost my mojo. I agreed with him on both points. I had a very zombie-like vibe going on; I didn't feel like myself at all. Everything felt gray. A certain redheaded, green-eyed girl took all the color in the world with her when she left.

After a minute or so of rummaging, the woman dumped the contents on her lap and grabbed her wallet. She pulled her license out and handed it to me with her registration and proof of insurance that she had in the glove box.

I stared down at the photo I.D. Morgan Adler. Twenty-eight. She lived a few towns over in Parrish Creek. I slid the card through my handheld reader, and it came back clear.

"Are you okay to drive?" I asked her as I handed back her license, reg, and P.O.I.

"Yeah, yes…I can't believe I was out that long."

"Okay, well, from now on, try to get some rest before your shifts. Sleeping on the side of the road is not safe."

"Is that it?" she asked, seeming surprised. "I'm not getting a ticket?"

I didn't make it a habit of ticketing hard-working, honest people.

"No, just a warning this time."

"Thank you!" she enthused. "Officer…"

"Whitlock."

Her head tilted to the side, and I could see her examining me in a way she hadn't before. It was like she was trying to put a puzzle together, and my face held the pieces; and she just needed to put them together. "Sam Whitlock?" she said, with a question mark at the end.

"That's right," I confirmed as she continued to stare in what I could only describe as disbelief.

I couldn't imagine that we'd met before, and I hadn't remembered Morgan Adler. Even in my near current comatose-to-the-opposite-sex state, she had still made an impression on me.

"I'm sorry, do we know each other?" I asked.

My question caused her to blink several times rapidly before shaking her head. "No, sorry, I just…um…I guess…yeah…let's just say your reputation precedes you. To be honest, I thought you might be an urban legend."

Urban legend. I hadn't heard that before. I wondered if she meant it in a good way or a bad way—but not enough to ask.

"But you're… real ."

The way she said real made me think that she had meant the ‘urban legend' comment in a flattering sense.

"Yep. I sure am. Last time I checked. Nice to meet you, Miss Adler." I patted the roof of her Accord. "Drive safe."

"You too," she replied, then shook her head again as if she were embarrassed. "I didn't mean to tell you how to drive. I mean, of course you drive safely, that's sort of your job. Or, I guess, not when you're on high-speed chases. Although you probably still have to be safe; otherwise, civilians could get hurt, and your job is literally to protect and serve. Not that you didn't know that, of course. I mean, you're the one in the uniform, and I'm sure you had to go to school or something before you got—" She stopped talking abruptly and pursed her lips together. Then she exhaled and said, "Sorry, I ramble when I'm…it doesn't matter…sorry."

I couldn't help but grin.

"Drive safe," I reiterated before heading back to my SUV.

I climbed inside the driver's seat and watched as Miss Adler put her blinker on and got up to about thirty before merging onto the highway. I sat there for a moment thinking that Morgan Adler was, as the kids on Love Island UK (which I only watched because Kenna was obsessed with it) said, "my type on paper.'" She was a pretty, quirky, adorable, sexy-girl-next-door who seemed sweet and down to earth with nurturing tendencies since she was a carer for her dad. She worked nights, which wasn't an easy shift, so she was tough. Still, I had zero interest in her.

The only pretty, quirky, adorable, and sexy girl next door I was interested in was the sexy girl who actually lived next door to me.

I tried to shake off the melancholy cloud that had been hovering over me as I lifted my hand to the radio to check in with Betty and let her know the status of the call and that I was available again. When I turned my head to the left to speak into the radio, I noticed a truck going at high speed in my side mirror. It was flying and had to be going well over a hundred. I was reaching to turn on my blues and twos when I heard a loud crunching sound. The next thing I knew, my body was being flung like a ragdoll against the steering wheel. I felt my head hit something hard, saw Kenna's face, and then everything went black.