Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Jesse

T rying to conduct myself professionally after my suspicions are confirmed makes me feel like a goat on AstroTurf. My entire body stutters with a cocktail of excitement and confusion because I'm afraid my eyes deceive me.

But no, this is T as I live and breathe.

It's like a movie star just walked out of the screen and into real life—my life where there's mostly been ugliness—and into Hogwash, which isn't much to look at.

She's grown up. So am I, so it's time to give her the rest of her name. It's not just T, it's Tallula.

Tallula Swan's hair is big and blonde. Her warm chestnut brown eyes sparkle, and her lips are painted the perfect shade of red—not fire engine red. Not flame red. Perfect red.

I could go for something cold to drink right now.

"Only a few more days until our grand opening. Just putting the finishing touches on everything. I'd offer you a coffee and a doughnut, but we're not quite up and running. Also, doughnuts won't be on the menu," says Mara Valencia, the owner of this new establishment.

"Suits me fine. I'm a tea guy."

"Tea?" Tallula asks as if surprised that I, a police officer, don't fit the rugged coffee drinker profile of most cops.

Thumbs looped in my duty belt, I say, "Black tea or a London Fog."

"A what?" Mara asks.

"A London Fog is Earl Grey tea sweetened with sugar or honey. Add a splash of vanilla and top it with steamed milk."

"Foamy milk?" Tallula asks.

"Frothed for sure."

Mara says, "I can get behind that."

"So, it's a London Fog tea latte?" Tallula confirms.

"Sure." I don't know much about fancy beverages, but during my life rehabilitation, I learned to channel my energy into productive things like running, polishing my patrol boots, and perfecting a drink that doesn't result in a morning of regret and an arrant traffic cone in the living room.

"Noted," Mara says. "By the way, Tally, you remember our new deputy sheriff."

"It's Llula," she corrects.

Mara rolls her eyes.

"Tallula Swan," I confirm, my tongue very near tied at speaking a name I've scarcely let myself think about in years .

"I go by Llula Lilly now." Beaming a smile, she strikes a pose with her hand hovering under her chin. "You might recognize me from a small role I played Jennifer Buellton-Klinger from Klingler and His Digital Army. I also had parts in?—"

"Tally, everyone in Hogwash?—"

"It's Llula," she counters.

"Everyone in Hogwash knows who you are."

"I was just being polite, formally introducing myself to our local law enforcement. I read for a spot as a beat cop's wife in an urban thriller called Avenged." Her eye twitches and she pauses before continuing, "To make a character more authentic, it's good to get firsthand, real-life accounts of?—"

I interrupt. "I'd like to help, but I've never been a beat officer in a municipal area nor am I married?—"

Mara interjects over me. "In that case, why don't you study what baristas do, Tally?"

"It's Llula, and living life in the fast lane doesn't leave a lot of time...I mean, I wasn't speeding. Probably. I'm sorry if I was going a little too fast on my way into town, but I didn't...Did Peter put you up to this?" she asks rapid-fire, petting the bug-eyed creature dressed like a toddler on Sundays in her arms as if nervous.

Pumping my hands before we get too far off the rails, I slip out of struck dumb teenager and back into my role as deputy sheriff. "If Peter is the name of the man who stole your license plate cover, I'm going to need to know everything you do."

Mara clicks her tongue. "Tally?— "

"Llula," she corrects again.

"Tally, you remember Jesse Lawson, right?" Mara asks.

Eyes widening, Tallula turns to me. "Did you put him behind bars?"

She doesn't remember me? Would she want to see me in jail? I point to my last name, embroidered on my tan uniform shirt above the breast pocket. "No, ma'am. I'm Jesse Lawson."

She brushes her hand across my upper arm in a flirty, teasing way. "No, you're not."

"Tally, it's really him," Mara insists.

"Y'all are—" She gasps and clamps her hand over her mouth. "I mean, you are playing a trick on me," she enunciates each word, especially emphasizing you are as if trying to run as far as possible for the word y'all .

"No tricks," I say simply.

"Halloween is next month. You're in costume, practicing for a role," she says, still refusing to believe I'm Jesse Lawson.

The happy little cloud that had found its way under my feet disappears, landing me back on solid ground—hard, craggy rock with a gray cloud threatening rain directly overhead.

Maybe that afternoon in detention that turned into an evening spent together meant something else to her. Something as in nothing. Not that it meant much to me, but looking back, the memory is a sunny spot in an otherwise bleak stretch of years .

"Miss, this is my uniform. My badge. I'm a real officer of the law."

"Jesse break-the-law-son?" she says, almost in a whisper.

The bad boy inside wakes up and shakes off the dust. Oh, now it's on. Spine stiffening, I say, "That's right, Princess."

She narrows her eyes briefly and then remembers her manners. With a little shake of her head, a disapproving heh comes from her throat.

Tallula is the Cameron High School queen bee who wouldn't give someone like me the time of day until she went too far, broke the rules, served a detention, and then accepted a dare. It was just the two of us. She could've said no.

On second thought, perhaps I don't want Tallulah to remember the loser I was. I'm now a law-abiding citizen. I tell my inner bad boy to get lost. "I enforce the law. Here to serve and protect." To right wrongs and hopefully, redeem my family. Mostly though, I want to live a simple and quiet life.

She blinks a few times and then looks me over from head to toe, then back up again. But I can't ding her for that because I've also observed my surroundings, and, ahem, there is a lot to appreciate—from her smooth skin to her feminine figure.

I'm not especially tall—just shy of six feet. The first change I made from being a lowlife loser was I started working out and eating better. It paid off. But I'm nothing like the heartthrobs that probably surround her out there in Hollywood.

Mara elbows her sister. "Tally, Officer Lawson is here to investigate a crime—the one involving your car."

"Oh, right," Tallula says, almost breathless.

Mara snaps her fingers. "Car, car, cartons. Oh no. That reminds me. I have to—" With a baby on one hip, she scurries into the buzz of workers unloading and assembling everything from shelving to tables.

This leaves Tallula and me standing alone by the front of the coffee shop. It's one thing to replay a fuzzy memory in my mind. It's another to speed by while chasing a suspect and think you glimpse someone from the past. It's yet something else entirely to see the best day of my life in person.

That's not hyperbole. It's true that I've had a lot of bad days. Terrible days. But the afternoon that slipped into dusk was in the top three of all time. The second was when I graduated from the Academy. The third was when I put on my shiny badge as an official deputy here in Hogwash.

Yeah, slim pickings considering I'm nearing thirty. The rest were trash. Days I'd like to erase entirely.

But I've never physically reacted to someone. Not like this.

I'd be a liar if I didn't notice her bombshell curves. Yeow.

But Mara is right. I'm here because I have a job to do.

Clearing my throat, I say, "Would you like to tell me what happened earlier? Please share all the details you can remember."

Tallula pets her dog as if he's her comfort item. "What happened was I walked out of the hair salon. A man was crouched behind my car. He stole the rhinestone studded plate cover and?—"

Something about the incident has been boggling my mind. I realize it now. "He replaced the license plate."

"Yeah. I suppose he was a kindly crook. Not that a license plate is worth much, just a hunk of metal."

I rub my hand down my chin. "It's puzzling because of the extra effort it takes to fasten it back in place. I was already in pursuit because of something that happened at the gas station, so why waste precious time? It's almost like he couldn't help himself." Gazing out the window, I replay the scene in my mind. It's as if the suspect saw the sparkly plate cover and simply had to take it. But why?

"It's really no big deal. I can probably get another one." Wearing high heels, Tallula shifts from foot to foot.

"Stealing is a crime in Hogwash, and the safety of our citizens and their property is my priority."

"Oh, I don't live here. I won't be staying long. Just, um, helping out my sister here at the Coffee Loft."

Am I sorry to hear that Tallula is just passing through? I rock back in my boots, the weight of my gear suddenly heavy. Why would I expect someone like her to come back to this little backwater and stay? Then again, I did, but only because I have a purpose now.