“You’ve got your hands full at the fire station. I know that. Your family knows that. And you take him to dialysis every week, right?”
“Yeah, but that’s not all there is to do. Laura coming back proved that all right. But my point is, she might be interested in the job.”
“Really? She’s sticking around?”
“Looks that way. She acts like she’s here for the long haul. And she gets stir-crazy staying around the house. My mom’s sick of her running the basement stairs for a workout, says it sounds like they’re being invaded.”
I shrugged, “Tell her to stop by. I’ll talk to her, see if it might work out,” I said.
I wondered to myself if Laura really wanted to downgrade to such a small community when she was on a good career track in Charleston. I knew family was important to her, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to hire somebody who might not stick around. The price and effort of training her only to have her move back if her dad started doing better or if some boyfriend came after her was an expensive risk. My department had a healthy budget thanks to our municipal priorities, but I was pretty conservative with expenditures. So I wasn’t going to splurge on a city cop who was only here for a season. I wasn’t a man who liked to be left empty-handed. It had happened in my personal life one time only, enough to keep me from ever wanting a broken heart like that again. The cost was too high. I always counted the cost. Whether it was professional or personal—and measured what the fallout might be.
So I’d be lying if I said I didn’t cringe a little bit at the thought of having to interview Damon’s little sister for a position. She would damn sure be qualified—that was the problem. She was also a flight risk—and I didn’t look forward to explaining to her or her brother why I had reservations about hiring her. I knew she’d be brash and full of ideas about how they did things in Charleston—I didn’t mind that. What I minded was investing time and capital in a trainee who fled to the city with that price tag trailing behind her. Employee retention—that was the buzzword I’d be using in the interview. I sighed. The administrative part of being chief as well as chief wasn’t without its migraines.
3
Laura
Some of my crap was still in storage down by the convenience store. I didn’t want to pack my parents’ house with everything I owned from my apartment and all my clothes and junk. So I had to go down to the gas station, unlock the padlock on my unit and roll the blue garage door up to go in and find my good clothes. I had packed and worn mostly exercise stuff and sweats here in town. I had a couple of pairs of jeans, but that was about it. So I went over the labeled boxes until I found the one I’d marked ‘fancy shit’. Popping the lid off the plastic container, I picked through the stack of clothes until I found a couple of options for the interview. Black pants, a blouse and blazer—which I called my going-to-court outfit in Charleston—a pencil skirt and a silk blouse—my truly fancy shit, which I’d worn for an interview with local news outlets after I cracked a cold case that made headlines. I grabbed some shoes and locked up.
At my parents’ house, I showered and did the flat iron thing with my hair, making it into glossy wings of auburn curving down over my shoulders. I liked the look of it, but not enough to screw with it every day. I chose the court outfit. I wasn’t trying to show anything but my competence and professionalism. So my toned legs were staying inside straight black dress pants with a narrow belt and a white blouse, a black blazer. I borrowed my mom’s pearls—cool, fake chunky ones I got her at Macy’s a couple years ago. A touch of makeup and I was ready to go, a full hour early. I messed around printing out a resume and flossing my teeth to kill time. I doom scrolled the headlines for a few minutes and then, fidgety and eager, I went ahead to the station.
The small RFPD building wasn’t crowded, with a truck on the lot and a couple cars. Inside, Mrs. Rook was sitting at the receptionist’s desk, her gray hair now an ashy platinum blonde in a sprayed stiff cloud around her head.
“Why, Laura Sue! Pauline told me you were coming back to town. It’s good to see you. Look how you’ve grown. I don’t reckon I’ve seen you since Christmas before last.”
“Hi, Mrs. Rook. How are you doing?” I asked with a smile. I hadn’t gotten any taller since I was twenty-eight, but if she wanted to say I’d grown, she was welcome to. She was a sweet friend of my nana, and I was truly glad to see her.