Curvy Valentine Match

“Want some company?”

Yes. “No. The last thing I need is for you to step in as the law, if I do find her.”

He sighed and released me, hands resting on his gun belt as his blue eyes settled on my face. “If I do find her, I’m obligated to act, Mara.”

“Yeah, I know. And you’ll lock her up for running away or truancy or some other nonsense while Kyle Jacobs gets to go home to his parents, because you’re obligated to do so.” It was a story I’d heard a million times. “Cops always have excuses for not doing the right thing, believe me I’m aware.”

“You know me, Mara. You should know I would never do that.”

I laughed and shook my head as bitterness rolled off me in waves. “I used to know you, at least I thought I did, but what I know now is that you’ll bring her to the station and call her foster parents, who won’t come pick her up, which means you can’t let her go. Right?”

“Can’t release a minor on her own, can I?”

“Exactly. Which means she gets to sit in a cell while her boyfriend gets to go home to his cozy home and loving parents.” I didn’t want to fight with him, so I sighed and took a step back. “It’s not personal, Xander. You are law enforcement, and you will always do what the power structure dictates, and that is, that the rich kid goes home while the poor kid gets screwed.”

“I would never do anything to endanger a child.” I knew that, but I also knew Xander didn’t have a realistic view of the world.

“Not intentionally, no. But you’ll return her to her foster parents, finding her allegations of any type of abuse unfounded, or you’ll accept their word that she only made the allegations so she could run away with her boyfriend. Or worse, you’ll believe she made a pass at the adult man charged with taking care of her because he’s ‘a good guy’.” I’d seen and heard it all before. “It’s what will happen whether you want to admit it or not. I’ve heard the stories, hell I’ve even lived a few of them.”

Xander sighed and raked a hand through his thick black hair. “Won’t you even give me a chance to prove I’m not like every other cop, every other man you’ve ever encountered?”

“I wish I could, Xander. But I can’t afford to find out that you are at Lonnie’s expense. If you send her back to that home, or worse, she’ll be gone. Forever.” Just another girl the system failed, and I just couldn’t handle it. Not this time.

“Don’t you think you’re being just a tad dramatic?”

“Screw you, Sheriff. How many of these cases have you actually handled? Or do you actually think Pilgrim is so different from New Orleans? That bad stuff doesn’t happen in the cookie cutter homes of the burbs?”

“I know enough,” he growled, his look growing dark with anger, but I didn’t care because his words made me furious.

“Then you should know I’m not being dramatic. But, why should you care? It’s not your life or your future in danger, is it? Or Kyle’s. Just some throw away girl, so who cares, right?”

“I care.”

“Sure you do. Everyone cares so much they always do the right thing, which just so happens to be, taking the easy way out. Go look for your rich boy and make sure he gets home so his mommy and daddy can tuck him in safe. Leave Lonnie the hell alone!” I turned on my heels and walked away from him as fast as I could, feeling like a fool for softening towards him for even a moment.

No matter what he said, we were different.

Too different to do anything but coexist in a small town.

Xander

Dammit. No matter how hard I tried, I seemed to keep screwing things up with Mara. It was two steps forward, and ten steps back when it came to her. So instead of obsessing about every misstep, I decided to do something about it, starting with looking into the girl that Mara was determined to help. Lonnie Frazier had been in foster care since she was six years old, but other than a few pick ups for minor theft of things like bread, candy and soda, she had never been arrested. And like Mara had guessed, no missing persons report had been filed, which was odd, but not for a kid who ran away often.

Where does it say that? Mara’s voice echoed in my head, her tone snarky and knowing all at once. My instinct hedged toward thinking that her foster parents didn’t want to waste police time and resources for a child who would return when she felt like it, but Mara’s accusations stayed with me. Maybe there’s another reason they haven’t filed.