CHAPTER 11

Cassie slipped intoa seat in the front row of her Psychology 101 classroom. She pulled out her spiral notepad, a pen, and a highlighter. Most of the students took notes on their laptops. But she found writing everything by hand first helped it all stick in her mind better.

In high school, she’d always been a “sit in the back row and screw around” type of student. But with the influence of her foster parents, and the knowledge that a good education could really make a difference, she now took her studies more seriously than she ever had in her life.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. She was fifteen minutes early as usual. There were only a few other students in the classroom. Some chatted, but most just scrolled through the screens of their mobile phones. She didn’t really know any of her classmates. But that was fine with her. She wasn’t there to make friends, she was there to learn.

As she sat there daydreaming out the window and waiting for class to start, she heard two people talking in the hallway outside. She turned to look as her professor entered the classroom followed by... No. Way.

Wade Riley, dressed in full uniform, was deep in conversation with her instructor, Professor Dusenbury, who encouraged everyone to simply call her Dusen. Wade didn’t notice Cassie. He took a seat at a desk at the far edge of the classroom while Dusen walked to the front of the room, her colorful, paisley dress billowing about her ankles as she moved.

She clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Good evening, everyone. As promised, we have a guest speaker tonight. I’d like to introduce Officer Wade Riley from the Whispering Pines Police Department. He’s here to teach us about the interesting subject of body language. Officer Riley has worked in both urban and small-town settings. He’s dealt with criminals and crimes ranging from major felonies to minor misdemeanors.”

Cassie felt her face flame at the mention of misdemeanors.

“He has unique knowledge and insights on this topic that I think we’ll all find fascinating.” She lifted a hand in Wade’s direction. “Officer Riley?”

He rose and came to the front of the room, thanking Dusen. Then he turned to face the class. His eyes widened for a brief instant when he spotted Cassie in the front row. But he recovered quickly, greeting the class and starting his speech.

As much as Cassie was annoyed to find him here, she had to admit his talk was, as Dusen had promised, fascinating. He covered things such as the importance of first establishing a baseline before jumping to conclusions about someone’s body language. He shared indicators that someone may be about to physically attack you and how to identify whether or not someone is lying. To emphasize his points, he showed interesting interview clips of famous cases, politicians, and celebrities who had all been caught in lies.

When he finished, the entire room broke into applause, and Dusen came to stand beside Wade. “Does anyone have any questions for Officer Riley?” Multiple hands shot up and Wade fielded questions until the class ended.

Afterward, several students surrounded him. Cassie kept her head down and gathered her things. She was almost to the door when she heard him call out, “Cassie!”

She took a deep breath and slowly turned to look back at him. He held up a finger and mouthed, “Wait!” before turning his attention back to the students circled around him. She sighed and wandered out into the hall to wait, listening to the chatter of her fellow classmates as they passed by, discussing what he’d taught them.

She was leaning against the wall with her eyes closed when she felt someone touch her shoulder, and she jumped.

“Sorry,” Wade said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me,” she said automatically, then with a small smile, “Okay, maybe you did a little. Why did you want me to wait?”

“Um...”

He dropped his gaze for a few seconds, and before he could complete his response, Cassie said, “You’re not about to lie to me, are you?”

“What?” He lifted his eyes in surprise. Cassie felt herself grow warm under the influence of his deep, whiskey-gold gaze.

She said, “You’re doing that slow blink, not-quite-meeting-my-eyes thing that you said may indicate deception.”

Wade grinned, and Cassie couldn’t ignore how much the smile transformed and softened the sharp angles of his handsome face. It was like a sunrise coming up over the edge of a mountain. He was standing close to her and she could actually feel the heat radiating from his body. She surreptitiously took a small step back.

“So, you were actually listening?” he said.

“I always listen in class,” she said.

He stood there for several long seconds, just looking at her, until she began to feel awkward.

“So, did you need something or...” she trailed off.

“Oh! I...er...would you...” He appeared uncharacteristically flustered. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee?”

Whatever she’d been expecting him to say, that wasn’t it. “Uh...” now it was her turn.

“Look, if you’re busy or need to get home or whatever, no worries,” he added in a rush, dropping his gaze again.

For some annoying reason, she found this incredibly endearing. This strong, capable cop was suddenly acting unsure of himself. Because of her.

“Okay,” she said, surprising herself. “How about Lakeside Latté? Meet you there in fifteen minutes?”

His face broke into that sunrise smile again. “Great!”

They parked next to each other in the coffee shop parking lot. She got out, feeling a bit surreal that she had willingly parked beside a patrol car and she was about to be seen in public with a uniformed police officer. And at one of her favorite haunts, so she was likely to see people that she knew. What had she been thinking?

She reached for the door of the shop, but he was already there. He grasped the handle from behind her and pulled it open, letting her walk through first.

“Uh...thanks,” she said, surprised by the unexpected gallantry.

They stepped inside and the smell of fresh roasting coffee assailed them. The place was still surprisingly busy for the late hour, with a mix of individuals and small groups either chatting or working on laptops.

They walked over and stood side-by-side in front of the glass case to make their pastry selections. Olivia was working as usual and handed them each a brown paper bag with their treat of choice inside. When Cassie accepted her bag, Olivia gave a sly smile and a quick wink that made her blush. Fortunately, Wade was too busy digging into his bag and didn’t notice. The two of them moved to the end of the counter to wait for their coffees.

“Seriously, no donut?” Cassie teased, pulling out her blueberries-and-cream scone.

“No way,” Wade said. “The cherry turnovers here are da bomb!”

She smiled at the casual way he spoke, so different from his usual stiff formality. He took a big bite, and a bit of white icing stuck to his upper lip. She watched as the pink tip of his tongue snaked out to lick it off and she swallowed, quickly turning her attention back to her scone. She dabbed her fingers at some of the crumbs that were scattering across its white tissue wrapping as she held it in her hand. “So, you know this place, huh? You don’t come often though.” The last part came out as more of a statement than a question. She was a regular and she’d never seen him there before.

“Not as often as I’d like,” he admitted. “If I did, it would be hard to stay in the same kind of shape needed to pass the Police Academy Fitness Test.”

Their coffee orders came up, and they both carried them over to an empty booth at the back of the room.

“Wait a minute,” she said, sliding in across from him. “Are you telling me that you all have to continue taking the fitness exam? Because Hugo...er, doesn’t seem quite as fit as you do.”

Wade laughed, and Cassie felt an unexpected thrill over the fact that she had caused it.

“Well, you’re right about that,” he said. “And no, we don’t have to keep taking the test. I just personally choose to. I think it’s important for police officers to be in the best physical shape possible.”

Well, he’s certainly successful there,Cassie thought to herself, noting his strong forearms and how the definition of his biceps was just visible beneath the short sleeves of his summer uniform shirt. Then she felt annoyed with herself for noticing. She tossed her hair back over one shoulder and said, “Yeah, well, I give you props for that because I doubt fitness is a priority for most cops. It’s clearly more about enjoying the power trip for the vast majority of them.”

Wade nearly choked on his final bite of cherry turnover. Eyes watering, he took a sip of his coffee and looked at her. “Is that really what you think?”

“Totally,” she said after swallowing a bite of her scone. “Most cops don’t really care about the people they supposedly serve.”

Wade didn’t say anything, but his expression grew serious.

She didn’t know why she was doing it, but she knew she was intentionally trying to rile him up, make him angry.

He surprised her, though. Instead of getting defensive, he simply sat back and studied her in that unsettling way of his. After a long moment, he said, “Why do you dislike cops so much?”

The question took her aback and she hesitated, then decided to be honest. “Personal experience.”

“What kind of personal experience?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” He didn’t press her, and they sat in silence for several minutes more, just sipping their coffees.

“I was put in foster care when I was very young,” she said suddenly, putting her coffee cup down on the table. “My first experience with cops was when they pulled me out of my mother’s arms.” She looked off into the distance, her body rigid, hands tightly clenched together on the table in front of her. “If I let myself, I can still hear her sobbing and begging them not to take me.”

Wade leaned forward, eyes intent on her face. “That must have been pretty traumatic,” he said. “Why did they take you away from her?”

Cassie was quiet. She started fiddling with the crumpled ball of white tissue from her scone. “She was...is...a drug addict.” She said it so softly that Wade could barely hear her.

He was quiet for a few minutes, then said, “You know they were only doing their job to protect you, right? They removed you for your own safety.”

Cassie looked up at him, her green eyes sparking with anger. “Maybe,” she said. “But the homes I got placed in weren’t much better. And my experiences with cops when I was in foster care didn’t do anything to raise my opinion of them.”

He didn’t say anything. And she continued. It seemed now that she’d started, she wanted him to know it all—all the havoc his brothers in blue had wreaked in her life.

“Throughout my time in the system, I moved through well over a dozen different placements, including a string of foster families and a couple of group homes,” she said. “I admit I wasn’t the best kid. I acted out a lot. I had a lot of anger. But I wasn’t a criminal...technically,” she added.

Wade lifted a brow but still said nothing.

She went on. “When I was in the group homes, calling the cops was the staffers’ go-to method for controlling us. They called them for anything; if we acted out, fought with each other, had temper tantrums, you name it. The cops would show up, and they never listened to us. No matter what, they always took the staffers’ sides. And I hated them for that. They’d make us sit on our beds while they lectured and intimidated us, controlled us.”

She looked up, her eyes were hot with the suppressed tears at the memory. “All I wanted was for someone to listen to me, to...love me.” What was wrong with her? Why was she opening up to him like this? She was breaking her own rule: never, ever show vulnerability.

Wade started to reach a hand across the table toward her, but then stopped himself and pulled it back. “I’m sorry,” he said simply. “What you experienced was wrong. But I’m not denying it happens. I experienced it myself when I worked in Grand Rapids. But I agree, using law enforcement to correct a child’s behavior that way is a fundamentally bad idea.”

They sat in silence for a few moments while Cassie regained her composure. She’d been ready to fight with him, expecting him to deny that what she’d experienced could happen. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d...listened. Validated her feelings, even sympathized. She felt strange, uncertain how to respond to this show of emotion and obvious sympathy.

“It seems like you’ve beaten the odds of many who come out of the foster system, though,” he said finally, sitting back. “I mean, you have a good job, and you’re going to school. That’s impressive.”

She took a deep breath, and the tight grip of her clasped hands loosened. “That’s because when I was sixteen, I was taken in by Mark and Rachel Wainwright. They actually cared about me, put in the time and effort to help me when no one else would. They didn’t just call the cops when I lost my temper but gave me love and support. And that changed everything for me. I went from a road to self-destruction and failing high school to graduating early. I got out of street ra—uh, making bad choices.” Wade appeared to suppress a smile but said nothing, and she continued. “After I graduated, I floundered a bit. I didn’t think college was for me and I worked a few odd jobs. But then I got the job working for PCS. And it was Mark and Rachel who eventually encouraged me to take classes at the community college. Even though I still have no idea what sort of degree I want,” she added with a shake of her head.

“They sound like pretty amazing people,” Wade said, his gaze so intent that she had to look away. “I think it’s great that you’re taking classes, and I’m sure you’ll eventually figure out where your true passion lies.”

“How did you decide to become a cop?” she asked, wanting to divert attention away from herself, but also because she was curious.

He looked down at his hands forming a circle around his empty coffee cup.

“Well, I told you about taking care of my brothers when we were growing up,” he glanced up, and she nodded, thinking about what J.P. had told her and Ani about Wade’s childhood. “I guess as the oldest, I was just always the responsible one. My brothers relied on me for that. And, honestly, I liked knowing I was keeping them safe and taking good care of them. When I grew up, a career in law enforcement seemed like a natural fit.”

“It also goes really well with your love of rules,” she teased. He smiled back at her in a way that caused something deep inside her to melt a little.

“It’s more than that, though,” he said. “I like helping people. And I wanted a career where I could make a difference.”

She suppressed a snort because she saw the earnestness in his face. He really meant what he was saying. A cop who actually cared. Interesting. She tossed her balled up pastry wrapper into her empty coffee cup. “Well, this has been nice, but I need to go,” she said, starting to rise. “I have an early route tomorrow for work.”

“Oh, of course,” he said, gathering his own things. “Maybe...we could do this again sometime?” He actually sounded shy again. Big, brawny, shy cop.

“Hmmm...I dunno,” she said as they walked out the door toward their respective cars. “I mean, hanging out with a cop? I have my reputation to consider.”

He laughed. “How about next time I go undercover as a regular person?”

“That depends on how convincing you are,” she said lightly. Hopping into her car, she spit gravel as she peeled out of the parking lot.