Рита Браун - Catch As Cat Can

So he wasn't surprised when he drove up to Mim's front door to find Big Mim, Miranda, Tracy Raz, Harry, and Diego, to whom he was introduced.

Harry couldn't resist an event. When she saw Mim head for Coop she knew something was up so she followed the deputy. Diego found her curiosity amusing.

Rick smiled at his favorite deputy. “Coop, enjoy yourself. This is the only night off you've had in two months. I'll take the perp back.”

“You can't lock me up for stealing hubcaps—which I didn't do.” He snarled as he put the Mercedes star, which had slipped out again, back under his shirt.

“Boy, I can lock you up for just about anything.” Rick genially pulled Wesley's arms behind his back, cuffing his hands together.

BoomBoom and Thomas happened to walk out front.

“Mim, there you are. We had a wonderful time.” BoomBoom noticed Rick pushing Wesley into the back of the squad car as she finished her sentence. “What's happening?”

“Miranda thinks he stole the hubcaps off her Falcon earlier,” Harry said.

“We're lucky he didn't steal our jewels.” BoomBoom's hand protectively covered the priceless sapphire and diamond necklace at her throat.

“The jewels are nothing. The woman is everything. I'd be afraid that he'd steal you.” Thomas kissed her on the cheek after casting a jaundiced eye at Wesley, who cast it right back.

“That would be a first,” Mim wryly responded, as Thomas gave the head attendant his parking ticket.

Diego whispered to Harry, Silver tongue.”

“How long have you known Thomas?”

Diego shrugged. “Our families know one another. He's a bit older so we didn't go to school together. Since working at the embassy I've gotten to know him. Before that,” he shrugged again, “social. Like tonight.”

“A lady-killer,” she whispered, eyebrows lifting upward.

“He thinks so,” Diego giggled back, a giggle that made him irresistible, especially since American men rarely allow themselves a good giggle.

“BoomBoom eats it up.”

“There is a type of woman who does, and you're not that type,” Diego said with insight.

“Well—no.”

Their attention was drawn away from one another as Wesley Partlow turned around in the backseat of the squad car and with his handcuffed hands managed to shoot the bird as Rick started the motor.

“What an asshole,” Coop muttered under her breath.

Tracy, next to her, said, “Used to see guys like that all the time in the service. We had the draft back then so there was always a small percent who thought the rules didn't apply to them. Usually that was beat out of them during basic training. Seems to me that Wesley Partlow will miss the experience of being in the armed services. Too bad. Makes a man out of punks like that.”

“Well, there's one thing for sure, he's going nowhere.” Cooper removed her left high heel to shake out a small pebble. “Miranda, I didn't think we'd find your hubcap desecrator so soon.”

“Me neither. I bet he stole the truck, too.”

“That's a given.” Cooper rubbed her bare arms as the lightning flashed on the side of the mountains. “Looks like the storm finally rolled up over the Blue Ridge.”

15

Within seconds the wind roared through Crozet at forty miles an hour, lifting party tents into the heavens, shredding striped awnings, sending Big Mim's guests shivering to the fireplaces as the temperature dropped violently.

Overhead, black clouds, blacker than night, scudded over treetops; white, pink, and even bluish lightning ripped through the swirling clouds to strike below. A brilliant bolt hit the tin roof of Mim's gardening shed, the flash temporarily blinding those who beheld it. Luckily the shed didn't catch fire.

The usual quota of car accidents for the Dogwood Festival dropped, because most people had the sense to get off the roads. Those few that stayed out skidded into guardrails. The sheriff's department and the wrecker services were working as fast as they could.

Although she had looked forward to this night, Cynthia Cooper, overcome with a sense of duty and knowing that Rick Shaw would be on overload, bid her host and hostess good-bye, hopped in her Jeep, and drove to headquarters. She changed into her uniform and grabbed the lone squad car remaining, driving out into the lashing rains.

“Coop to Sheriff Shaw.”

“Hey,” came the familiar, tired voice.

“I'm heading out to Boonesville. Accident at the crossroads.”

“What are you doing at work?”

“All hands on deck on a night like tonight. Yancy's squad car was lonesome. Where's Yancy?”

“In the hospital with a broken jaw.”

“What?”

“Stopped a speeder, Din Marks, weaving all over the road. Guy got out of the car, Yancy shined the flashlight in his face, and the guy hit him broadside with a hammer. Held it behind his back, black as pitch tonight and Yancy never saw it coming.”

“Damn.”

“Filthy night. But Yancy will be okay. With his jaw wired shut he's bound to lose weight.”

“There is that.” She smiled. “Did he nail the perp?”

“Oh yeah. Sitting in the same cell with that little asshole, Partlow. Hey, I don't know when we'll wrap up this night but I'll buy you coffee and a doughnut when we do.”

“Best offer I've had all week.”

“Over and out,” he replied.

As Cooper headed up to Boonesville, a small community north of Charlottesville proper, Harry and Diego danced the last dance at midnight. Big Mim invited everyone back to the library for coffee. Her eagle eyes noted if anyone was beyond driving. Her husband whisked off those few to the apartments above the stable. Jim's size and bulk guaranteed little resistance.

Thunder roared overhead, the lightning illuminated the fields with eerie colors. The horses sensibly retreated to their run-in sheds. Even the cattle withdrew to the run-in sheds, standing patiently with the horses, who felt superior to cattle.

Tucker covered her eyes in the bedroom at Harry's home. Pewter made a big show of not caring about the storm.

Mrs. Murphy, curled up on the bed, said, “This is a bad one. I'm surprised there isn't hail.”

The words were no sooner out of her mouth than a tremendous rattle pelted the roof. Hailstones the size of golf balls pounded down, bouncing high off anything they hit.

“Wow!” Pewter hurried to the window.

“It was a dark and stormy night,” Mrs. Murphy chanted in a ghostly voice.

“That's not funny.” Tucker shivered.

“Wimp.” Pewter tossed her head in the air.

“Don't pick on her. She really hates these things and this is a hateful storm. Bet the horses are glad Mom opened their outside stall doors. She's got a sixth sense about the weather.”

“She watches the Weather Channel.” Pewter, never one to be impressed with humans, jumped as a big hailstone smashed against the window.

“Wasn't on the Weather Channel. I watched it with her. This is one of those wild storms that comes out of nowhere.” Mrs. Murphy knew how swiftly weather could change in the mountains. “People are lucky their crops aren't high enough to beat down but this will tear the dogwood blossoms right off the trees.”

The sound of Harry's truck coming down the driveway sent them all to the back door. She floated through the door heedless of the weather. “Hello, babies.”

“I'm glad you're home,” Pewter confessed.

Tucker, thrilled that Harry was home, followed her human closely. “I hate this.” Pewter decided to follow Harry, too.

Mrs. Murphy scampered ahead of them as the hail sounded like artillery fire. “Let's be glad we're inside tonight, safe and sound.”