Page 11 of Justice for Samara

“Good god, that’s tiny,” Samara said, leaning over and squinting at it.

“Yeah. No shit. Got a judge who picked on me for a while and he tried to get me fired over it.”

That was a shock. “He still on the bench?”

“Yeah, unfortunately, but Carter cleaned his plow and he’s backed off now.”

“Why would he be like that?”

“Long story. I’ll tell you while we’re touring. Hey, Carter, want anything while we’re gone?”

“Nah. Got a lunch meeting with the mayor,” his boss called back.

“Oh, well, yay you. You have fun with that,” Justin said, laughing.

“Oh, yeah. Always a real hoot,” Carter barked. So there was a story there too? Seemed with every moment that went by, she was presented with yet another set of questions to pose to Michael.

He slipped the form into a bin and turned to look at her. “Okay, so you’ve got your badge. We’ve got a couple of extra tool belts in the closet back?”

“I have my own. Is that okay? I like it because I’m familiar with it.”

“Oh, absolutely. Bring it in, we’ll get it filled up, and then we can go.”

After Samara retrieved her belt from her Jeep and they’d loaded it with equipment, Michael opened the door. “Got your paperwork?”

“Yep.” She held up a manila envelope. “Ready to go.”

“Good deal. We’ll go to the courthouse first and then move around town.” They reached the parking lot and Michael headed straight to a Ford Explorer with the TCSD crest on the outside.

“Nice ride.”

He grinned. “Yeah. They asked what I wanted, and this was my choice. It was this or a Charger, and I really don’t like those. This seems like a better choice. Roomier and more cargo space.”

“Yeah, most of the departments are going to these now for that reason.” To her surprise, he unlocked the door and held it for her, so she slipped in. As soon as he was behind the wheel, she turned to him. “You didn’t have to do that. I’m just a fellow officer.”

“You may be a fellow officer, but you’re also a lady, and my mother raised me to be a gentleman. If it offends you, I won’t do it again. Just a courtesy.”

Samara wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that, but it was a nice gesture. “Oh, it’s fine. Just not used to it.”

“We’re not KSP here. We still have a small-town code we follow, whether it’s hokey or not. But if we’re actually working, that won’t happen. You’ll be just another officer.”

“Got it. So we’re going to the clerk’s office with these?”

He nodded. “At least three offices to stop at in there.”

Forty-five minutes later, her paperwork was all filed, including her insurance forms, she’d seen the jail and met the jailer on duty, walked into city hall to look around, found the post office, and ridden past all the schools in the county. “Looks like antiques are popular around here,” she commented as they drove down the main street on their way back.

“Yeah. We have a ham festival too. Used to have a couple of companies here that made country hams, but not anymore. They’re all gone. But we still have the festival. It’s fun. They have a rod run and a carnival.”

“Does sound like fun. And a nightmare for law enforcement.”

He nodded. “Yeah, a little, but the Cadiz Police Department is mostly responsible for that. We still help them though. It’s just the right thing to do.”

Michael kept driving and it looked like they were leaving town. “Where are we going?”

“To lunch. Unless you don’t want to.”

“Oh, no, I definitely want to.”