Marie Ferrarella - The Sheriff's Christmas Surprise

Why?

Rick sighed, placed the baby back into the infant seat, strapped him in again and then picked up the infant seat. He looked down at the baby. The little boy was smiling again.

At least the kid had something to smile about, he thought.

“Anybody wants me,” he murmured as he left, “I’ll be at the diner.”

JOAN RANDALL, fondly referred to as “Miss Joan” by everyone, had run the local diner for as long as anyone in town could remember. Five foot five, with rounded curves and hair that looked to be just a wee bit too strawberry in color, the years had been kind to her. For the most part, she’d kept the wrinkles at bay despite her advancing age. Her eyes were quick to smile and she had an earth-mother quality about her that coaxed complete strangers to suddenly open up and share their life stories with her.

She had the same effect on the people she rubbed elbows with on a daily basis.

Rick had once ventured that Miss Joan had heard more confessions than all the priests within a fifty-mile radius put together.

The older woman lit up when she saw Rick walk through the door, a fond smile growing fonder when she saw that he was not alone.

“Whatcha got there, Sheriff Santiago,” she teased, coming around the counter to come closer to him. “A new deputy?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Rick answered. He carefully placed the infant seat on top of the counter, making sure that the baby was secure and that the seat didn’t wobble.

No longer being lulled by the soothing constant motion of Rick walking, the baby began to fuss and complain again.

Having come over on the other side of the counter, Miss Joan peered into the infant seat. She studied the infant for a moment, then raised her eyes to Rick’s.

“Looks like the little guy who was in here yesterday,” she told him.

“Do you remember what the people with him looked like?” Rick realized that the question had come out a bit testily. He was quick to apologize. “Sorry.” He kept one hand on the infant seat; the other he dragged through his hair. “This hasn’t exactly been one of my better mornings.”

Miss Joan smiled understandingly, then her brown eyes shifted toward the baby.

“I’m sure this little guy could say the same thing.” Leaning in closer, she cooed at the infant. “Where’s your mama, honey?”

“You remember what his parents looked like?” Rick pressed again, hoping that he would be able to get to the bottom of this fairly soon.

If the boy’s parents had really abandoned him, then there were consequences to face, but he was hoping a logical reason was behind this.

“I sure do, they were the only strangers here on Thanksgiving. They looked like two sticks,” Miss Joan told him. “One thinner than the other.” She frowned, recalling. “The guy hardly looked old enough to shave and he had one short temper. Kept complaining and telling the little bit of a thing with him to shut the baby up. The little guy kept fussing.” She smiled as she nodded at the infant. “Like the way he is now.”

“The baby’s mama seemed kinda tense,” Guadalupe Lopez, one of Miss Joan’s three waitresses and the only one who worked part-time, volunteered as she set down the sugar dispenser she was refilling and crossed over to them. “I thought she was going to cry a couple of times. I wanted to say something, but it wasn’t my place. The customer’s always right.” She raised her eyes to her boss. “Right, Miss Joan?”

“Most of the time,” Miss Joan amended. She turned her attention toward Rick. “I felt sorry for the baby and for his mama, but can’t rightly say I was sorry to see them all go. That baby’s daddy had a mean streak a mile wide. Didn’t want any trouble—” Her knowing eyes shifted to Rick’s face. “Unless it means that it would keep you hanging around here—and us—a little longer,” Miss Joan said, looking at Rick significantly.

So what happened between yesterday and this morning to separate thin parents from chubby baby? Rick wondered. “Did you happen to see if his parents were leaving town or if they were visiting someone?”

“Looked as if they were headed out of Forever to me. I heard the guy saying something about wanting to burn rubber.” Miss Joan slid her forefinger along the baby’s cheek. Her smile deepened. “So where did you find this little guy?”

“On my doorstep.”

The two women looked surprised. “Huh,” Lupe uttered, looking amused. “Don’t that beat all.”

“Not hardly,” Rick muttered. This didn’t make any sense. He definitely didn’t know anyone who resembled sticks. Why had they picked him to be the one they left their son with? Or had they picked him? Maybe it was just a random choice. “Look, I’ve got to go see if I can find these people and find out what the—” he glanced at the baby and switched words “—heck is going on. Would you look after him for me?”

He deliberately didn’t address either woman, leaving it up to them which one would say yes. When there was no immediate taker, he added, “I can’t take him with me while I’m running down his parents. No telling how long I’ll be out and I think the little guy’s hungry.”

The infant was back to shoving his fists into his mouth.

“I can see your point,” Miss Joan agreed. She pursed her lips as she looked at the infant. “I’ve got a diner to run and I don’t have much experience with short people.” Her eyes shifted over to the petite waitress. Lupe came from a large family. Eleven kids in all and she was the oldest. “Don’t you have a bunch of little brothers and sisters, Lupe?”

“Too many,” Lupe said with a sigh. “Why? You want one?”

“No, but…” Miss Joan’s voice trailed off, but her meaning was quite clear.

Lupe seemed to know better than to resist. Besides, it was obvious she thought the little guy was cute.

“I can take care of him for you, Sheriff,” she volunteered. She turned the infant seat around toward her and began to unfasten the straps securing the baby. Freeing the infant, she picked him up. “But make sure you come back.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” he promised. With that, he made his way to the door.

Rick was back faster than he intended.

Strictly speaking, he was back before he left. Opening the door, he was about to walk out of the diner when a statuesque blonde all but knocked him over. Contact was hard, jarring, and oddly electric as their bodies slammed together, then sprang apart.

Stunned, with some of the wind knocked out of her, the woman staggered, somehow managing to keep from falling, but just barely.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you like that,” she apologized in a deeply melodic voice that reminded him of aged whiskey sliding down the side of a thick glass on a chilled winter morning.

His badge and uniform seemed to register belatedly in her brain and she added, “But you’re the man I need to see—” The baby made another noise, pulling her attention over to where Lupe stood holding the baby. Her eyes widened.

“Bobby!” she cried, appearing stunned and thrilled all at the same time.

Trial attorney Olivia Blayne was seven steps beyond bone tired.

The twenty-nine-year-old had been on the road for more hours than she cared to think about, taking off the second she finally managed to get a lead on her younger sister’s location. That was thanks to an ex-boyfriend who knew someone who could track down the coordinates of her last cell-phone call, a service which, ironically, she paid for.

In reality, she’d been paying for her sister since the day their parents had been killed, victims of a senseless robbery at the small jewelry store they owned and operated.