Protector - Laurel Dewey [124]
The waitress arrived with the food. “Two specials!” the waitress said as she set the plates onto the table and placed the receipt under the saltshaker.
“Patty, food’s here,” Jane said, happy to break the child’s fascination with Dan.
“I’ll let you folks get to eatin’,” Dan said, moving back to the counter as his cell phone rang.
Emily leaned forward to Jane and whispered, “He’s handsome.”
“Okey-doke! I’m leavin’ right now!” Dan hung up, paid his tab and took a final swig of coffee. “You two have yourselves a beautiful day!” he said, swiveling out of his seat. “I gotta go and make the world a safer place for Peachville’s residents.”
“Just call Dan!” Emily sung out, recalling his truck sign. “Twenty-four-hour man!”
Jane cringed. “She means 24-hour maintenance. We saw your truck.”
Dan let out a guffaw that lit up his face. “Well, I’m partial to 24-hour man! That’s what I am: on call, 24/7. Say, you all being new in town, if you ever have any electrical, plumbin’ or any such thing go wrong, you give ol’ Dan a call.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it to Jane. “I mean it,” Dan said to Jane. “You got any problem in that ol’ Cooper house, you give me a jingle.”
Jane’s cop radar went up. “You already know our address?”
“Don’t look so shocked. This is a small town. If we don’t know where the newcomers live and what they eat for breakfast inside of 24 hours of them showin’ up, we’re shirkin’ our duties!” Jane eyed Dan very carefully, wondering what other lovely tidbits of information he knew, thanks to Kathy, the town crier.
Emily watched Dan walk out of the Café and get into his truck before returning to her meal with a silly grin. The front door of the Café opened and in walked Sheriff George, his belly protruding a good three inches over his belt.
“Shit,” Jane mumbled under her breath. “It’s like old home week in here.”
“How ya doin’, Sheriff?” the waitress hollered out from behind the counter.
“Ask me after my third cup of coffee!” the sheriff quipped, heading to the open seat at the counter that Dan just vacated. He spun around in his seat, facing Jane and Emily. “You still brakin’ for butterflies?” he asked Jane before quickly turning to Emily. “And how was your first night sleepin’ in Peachville? Did the train keep you up?”
“We slept fine!” Jane responded, trying to put on a cheerful face.
“You know, we’re the only town in Western Colorado with a coal train that rumbles through it!”
Jane took a sip of coffee. “Is that in your Chamber of Commerce brochure?” The minute the words rolled off her lips, she regretted the sarcasm.
“You know what?” the sheriff replied. “I think it just might be!”
The waitress set a cup of coffee on the counter for the sheriff. He took a hearty gulp and continued to stare at Jane and Emily. Jane ate a few bites of food amidst the awkward silence. The sheriff’s radio beeped and a deputy’s voice could be heard. “We got it wrapped up over here,” the voice on the radio announced.
“Well, that’s good news!” Sheriff George said to Jane. “We had ourselves a cow loose this morning and wanderin’ up on the road.”
“Wow,” Jane said, tiring of the prosaic chitchat.
“Yeah. That’s about as exciting as it gets ‘round here. Oh, we have our occasional car wreck on the highway when folks take the turn too quick. But, that’s all that really happens ’round here. And you know what? We like it that way.”
Jane realized the sheriff was speaking circuitously to her. Behind his cheerful, good ol’ boy exterior, he was sending her a message. “Well, that’s good to hear,” Jane countered. “With my husband’s recent death, we could do with some peace and quiet.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” the sheriff said. “I’m sure it’s been difficult for you and your daughter.” He pursed his fat lips. “Like I said, we like it peaceful. Peaceful Peachville. Everybody gets along and those that can’t stay away from each other.”
Jane eyed the sheriff. She was getting tired of his innuendo. The static voice came back over his radio. “Okay, I’ll be 10–7 at the park. 10–4.”