“I guess,” Kayla grumbled.
But Bree knew the little girl would have dozens of suggestions for her uncle.
Luke’s horse, Riot, kicked his stall door.
“OK, Riot.” Luke laughed. “I know what time it is.” He headed for the feed room.
Kayla picked dirt out of Pumpkin’s hooves, then put the pony-size Haflinger in his stall and planted a kiss on his nose. The scene was adorable, and Bree’s heart swelled with warm fuzzies, a feeling she hadn’t known existed until she started parenting. Her eyes misted—another new reaction—and she didn’t understand why she was tearing up when she was happy.
Except that Christmas was coming—the first one without their mother—her sister, Erin. If it weren’t for the kids, Bree wouldn’t even bother to celebrate. The festivities would only make her grief come roaring back. But that felt cowardly, and the kids deserved better. Bree had to show them by example that they could keep Erin in their hearts and simultaneously move forward.
If only she had some idea of how to do that.
Bree stopped in front of Cowboy’s stall and rubbed the paint gelding’s head. The sweet-natured horse had belonged to her sister. His company made Bree feel closer to Erin, and that soothed her. Impatient, Riot nickered over his half door. Bree stepped sideways so she could scratch both horses’ foreheads at the same time. As always, spending time with the kids and horses brought her a peace she hadn’t known existed. Sometimes she was so content with her new life, she felt guilty. Erin should be the one enjoying an evening with her kids. But that was not to be.
Bittersweet. Everything in life was bittersweet.
“Well, we’ll be ready if you get lucky.” Luke emerged from the feed room, carrying three containers. He dumped grain while Kayla tossed hay over doors and Bree topped off water buckets.
A few minutes later, Bree checked the stall door latches before leading the way out of the barn. Never wanting to be left behind, Ladybug got up from her napping spot and hurried to keep up. Bree turned off the lights, closed the barn door, and headed toward the back porch. A damp wind cut through her jacket, and she shivered.
“It’s snowing!” Kayla turned her face to the sky and opened her mouth, trying to catch a flurry on her tongue. Only a handful of flakes drifted through the night sky, but Kayla was an optimist. “Can we have hot cocoa?”
“Of course.” Bree opened the back door. The dog ran through the opening.
Bree and the kids shed their jackets and dirty boots at the back door and washed their hands. She checked the time and turned to Kayla. “If you get your shower and put on your pajamas, we can watch a movie.”
“Yay! I’ll hurry.” The little girl raced for the stairs. She was a slip of a thing, but her feet thundered up the wooden steps, loud as hoofbeats.
Luke started the popcorn while Bree went upstairs and changed into flannel pajama bottoms and thick socks. Her black tomcat, Vader, uncurled himself from his sleeping ball and sauntered across the bed for an ear rub. When she left the bedroom, the cat followed her to the kitchen. Vader bumped Bree’s leg and gave her a demanding meow.
“OK.” She spooned cat food onto a plate, carried it to an empty patch of counter, and set it next to his water bowl. Vader followed, and purred while he ate. Yes. Feeding the cat on the counter was gross. But Bree had no options because the dog would eat anything she could reach. Also, the cat refused to share a water bowl with the dog. There were some aspects of Bree’s new life that were simply ridiculous.
The microwave dinged, and Luke poured the popcorn into a bowl.
Kayla ran into the room in pink fleece pajamas. “Can I carry the popcorn?”
Bree eyed the dog, who was eyeing the bowl. Ladybug looked innocent, but she’d never met a morsel of food she didn’t love. Also, the pudgy pointer mix was much faster than she looked.
Bree redirected Kayla. “Can you get the napkins?”
“OK.” Kayla rushed to the pantry.
Bree loaded the mugs and popcorn onto a tray. “Movie choices?”
Kayla shouted, “Frozen!”
“Again?” Luke rolled his eyes. “You’ve watched that movie a hundred times. How about Iron Man?”
“Too scary.” Kayla followed her brother into the family room.
Bree set the tray on the coffee table. “How about a movie neither of you have seen?” She picked up the remote and began to surf through the options. Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and read the screen. DISPATCH.
Regret washed over her like cold rain. She didn’t want to answer the call but knew dispatch would not reach out to her when she was off duty unless it was serious. “I have to grab this call.” She got up and went to the kitchen before pressing “Answer.” “Sheriff Taggert.”
“Sheriff, we have a reported 12-77,” the dispatcher said.
Bree peered through the doorway at the two kids.
Shit.
The dispatcher gave an address on the opposite side of Randolph County.
Bree placed the address on a mental map. “ETA twenty minutes.”
After sliding the phone back into her pocket, she returned to the family room.
Luke scanned her face, his own expression neutral. “You have to go.”
“Yes,” Bree said. “I’m sorry.”
Disappointment crashed over Kayla’s face. “But we were going to watch a movie.”
“I know, honey. I’m sorry.” Guilt filled Bree.
“It’s OK.” Kayla sniffed. “You’re important. People need you,” she said in a small, heartbreaking voice.
This kid . . .
Luke gave his sister a playful poke in the shoulder. “We can watch Frozen.”
“Yay!” Kayla snatched the remote from the table.
“Thank you,” Bree mouthed at Luke. Her eyes went misty again at the scene. When she’d moved in last January, he’d been a teenage boy, but he was fast becoming a man—one who made her proud every day.
She ran upstairs and changed into her uniform. She jogged back down a few minutes later, shoving her gun into its holster on her hip. As she passed through the room, she kissed both kids. “I love you. Dana will be home from her date in a couple of hours.”
Bree’s best friend and former detective partner had retired and now lived with them as a sort-of nanny. Bree didn’t like to leave the kids alone. Her cop brain only generated worst-case scenarios, but Luke was mature enough to babysit.
Before she could issue any further instructions, Luke held up one hand in a stop gesture. “I know. Set the alarm. Get Kayla to bed by eight thirty. Do my homework.”
“You got it.” She smiled and headed for the door. She donned boots and a jacket and went outside. After the warmth of the house—and her flannel pj’s—the yard felt cold and sad.
She slid behind the wheel of her official SUV, turned on her lights and siren, and roared down the street. She checked in with dispatch for details and updates, then reached for her phone to call Matt Flynn, her criminal investigator—and boyfriend, for lack of a better term. She was going to need him.
12-77 was radio code for homicide.
CHAPTER FOUR
Bree came to an abrupt stop and stared.
She wasn’t easy to shock. Before she became the sheriff of Randolph County, she worked for the Philadelphia PD, first as a patrol officer, then as a detective. Her last assignment had been in homicide.