Ginny Aiken - Suspicion

Steph’s mouth watered. “Bring me the steak, please.”

“I’ll have the meat loaf,” Hal said.

“And a side of cholesterol meds in our future,” Steph added with a grin when Karla had sauntered off. “But every once in a while, you just have to go for the comfort food. Tonight’s the perfect night for it.”

The sheriff’s warm gaze paused on her face. “After what you went through the past two days, I’m not surprised you’re looking for comfort.”

Steph studied the foil lid on the tiny container of cream. “I’ll admit it’s rattled me. I went right to bed after you left last night.”

The sheriff frowned as he whipped a notepad and pen from his uniform pocket. “Let’s get to work then. I want this guy off my streets.”

Hal listened as Steph described the damaged goods. Every so often, he wrote down a detail, his attention on her every word. She described the tissue box again, the box of disposable diapers, the boxed twelve-pack of nutritional supplement shakes, the vaporizer box and the box of cotton balls.

“As far as I can tell,” she said when she couldn’t think of anything else, “the only thing those items have in common is that they all came packed in cardboard boxes and were carefully cut.”

The sheriff took a swig of his black coffee. “I noticed that. Now I just have to figure out how all those boxes relate to each other.”

Karla arrived with a heavy tray with two platter-size plates just as overloaded. The mountain of hash browns laced with cheddar and sour cream on Steph’s dish gave off tendrils of steam. Creamy gravy dotted with pepper flakes dressed the battered and deep-fried steak. The side bowl of tangy stewed tomatoes had Steph reaching for her napkin then spreading it over her lap.

She laced her hands over the napkin, prayed silently and was pleased to hear Hal say, “Amen.”

They looked up and their gazes held. He smiled. “Don’t let it get cold. Granny’s meals are best when they’re hot.”

“Hey, Sheriff!” Granny Annie called. “It’s about time you didn’t come eat your supper alone. Make a habit of it, you hear?”

With her fork a mere inch from her mouth, Steph stole a glance at her dining companion. Just like last night and earlier today in the store, a hint of a blush reddened his cheeks. For some reason, that small detail endeared the serious sheriff to her.

“One of these days,” he muttered, “she’ll learn the meaning of tact.”

Steph chuckled. “Don’t count on it. She’s been embarrassing folks in Loganton for a generation or two.”

His sheepish grin only made her laugh again. It was the first time she’d laughed since the senior citizens had left Scott’s the day before. It felt great.

Hal leaned closer. “Let’s eat before she comes out here and pulls our ears,” he said in a loud stage whisper.

Twenty minutes later, Steph put down the dessert spoon as she savored the last mouthful of peach cobbler. She leaned back, stuffed but satisfied. “I just remembered why I don’t eat like this too often.”

“Unfortunately, I do. One of these days, I’m going to get around to cracking open the covers of that cookbook I bought last summer after I moved into the house. I have to learn to cook. I’ll miss Granny Annie’s meals, but my health sure won’t—”

The crackle of a walkie-talkie cut off his words. “Sheriff Hal?” a woman’s soprano asked.

Hal brought the black device up to his mouth. “What’s up?”

“I know you’re on a break, and you’re probably having dinner, but we just got a DUI out on the old River Run Road. Sounds pretty bad. Will called in and asked for backup.”

“Got it. I’m on my way.”

“10-4, Sheriff. And thanks.”

Hal slid out of the booth, then reached for his wallet. “I’m sorry. Duty calls. Please stay and enjoy another cup of Granny’s coffee on me.”

She shook her head and followed him, unwilling to linger without him. Before Steph’s fingers unzipped her purse, Hal had dropped a couple of bills on the counter by the register. “Keep the change, Karla. Put it toward college.”

The teen grinned, rang them up and handed Hal a receipt.

“Thanks,” Steph said as they reached the door. So it had been part date, part interrogation, as she’d thought. “Don’t apologize. I understand. Besides, I didn’t sleep well last night. I hope to do better tonight.”

He opened the door. “Keep your cell phone close.”

Steph pulled her sweater tight across her chest. “I kept it under my pillow last night, and I plan to do the same until…well, you understand.”

As she splashed to her car, she thanked the Lord for Hal’s company and his heavy steps behind her. This time, Steph didn’t have to wonder. She wasn’t alone, and she knew as long as Hal was around he’d keep her safe.

At home, she knew she could count on the Lord.

On Saturday morning, when the rain and the damp chill were only memories, Steph sang along to a Mercy Me CD in the car’s stereo on her way to work. She parked at her normal spot in the parking lot across the alley then opened up the store. Jimmy was waiting at the front door.

“’Morning, Miss Steph. No more mopping, huh?”

“Not today,” she called over her shoulder on her way to open the pharmacy itself. “As long as you sweep in front of the door, we’ll be fine.”

Then she reached the white-painted steel door. The open white pharmacy door. Steph stared in disbelief.

She remembered locking up the night before. That’s when she’d turned and nearly bumped into Hal. She had closed and locked that door.

Hadn’t she?

A chill ran through her. A vise of tension wound itself around her head. Her heart beat louder, and her breath came in short spurts. Nausea seared up her chest and into her throat.

“Easy,” she murmured. No reason to freak out. Not yet.

Careful not to let her fingers touch anything, Steph kneed the door ajar. She slipped inside and headed for the cabinet where she kept the narcotics behind yet another lock. But before she got there, she caught sight of the empty shelf against the back wall.

The pseudoephedrine was gone. Her worst nightmare had come to pass. The thief was making meth.

Steph reached for her cell phone and dialed 911.

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