A Lawman for Christmas

He had his priorities straight. And she was being waspish, Kelsey upbraided herself. Contrite, she nodded at him.

“Sorry. You’re right. My mother definitely matters more than a mashed-up grill,” she murmured, then circled around again to the front. The hood was pushed in, proving that the bushes were tougher than they looked. It was a miracle that her mother didn’t sustain any bad cuts or bruises.

The driver’s-side door creaked and groaned like an arthritic eighty-year-old man when she opened it. The door made even louder noises when she attempted to shut it again. It resisted complete closure.

Morgan nodded at the door. “Doesn’t sound promising,” he commented.

Sitting behind the wheel, Kelsey put her mother’s key into the ignition and turned. The engine wheezed, then coughed and sputtered before finally giving up the ghost. With an exasperated sigh, Kelsey tried again. This time, the engine remained silent. There wasn’t even a weak sputter. The third attempt was no better. Kelsey got out again.

“I’m going to have to call a tow truck,” she sighed, resigned. She looked at him. “You have any recommendations?”

“Pop the hood.”

He caught her by surprise. “What?”

“Pop the hood.” He nodded toward the driver’s side. “There should be a release right under—”

“I know where the release is,” she told him. His assumption of her ignorance annoyed her. She wasn’t one of those women whose entire knowledge about cars stopped at putting the key into the ignition.

Reaching into the car, Kelsey pulled the lever. The hood made a strange noise in response. It took Morgan a couple of minutes to free it from its latch.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Morgan didn’t answer her right away. He was busy assessing the damage and testing various connections, estimating what might be wrong with the car from the noises it had made—and some it conspicuously hadn’t—when Kelsey had turned the key.

“Checking out the engine,” he finally said just before she repeated her question. He dropped the hood back into place. “I know someone who’s pretty much of a wizard when it comes to working on cars. I can get the car towed to his place.”

“How much does this Mr.Wizard charge?” she asked.

Reaching inside the car, he removed the keys and handed them back to Kelsey. “He’s reasonable.”

“One man’s reasonable is another man’s steep,” she pointed out, moving in front of him and getting into his face.

His eyes met hers. “Trust me, your mother will be all right with it.”

Kelsey paused for a long moment, debating. Ordinarily, she would have given her mother the details and asked her what she wanted to do. But the woman had enough to deal with right now. And she supposed that a mechanic with a recommendation was better than trusting the fate of her mother’s car’s to the luck of the draw.

“Okay, give Mr. Wizard a call and ask him if he can come down to take a look at this.”

There was just the smallest hint of a smile on the patrolman’s lips. “Not necessary.”

“What, you communicate with him by telepathy?” When he didn’t answer, it suddenly hit her. “It’s you?” she asked in surprise.

“My father ran a garage. I used to help out after school,” he told her. “Turns out I had a knack for fixing things.”

“So why did you become a policeman?”

Telling her that he didn’t want to be like his father was far too intimate a revelation. Morgan merely looked at her for a long moment, then said, “Not all things that need fixing are cars.”

From the way he said it, she had a feeling that Donnelly wasn’t going to elaborate on the enigmatic statement even if she asked him to.

Her curiosity was instantly aroused.

Kelsey hated not knowing things, like the answer to a question, the end of a story or the proper response to a riddle. She really needed to know. Once she found out the answer, the almost rabid desire to obtain a response vanished.

But for the moment, her curiosity had to take a backseat to getting her mother’s car repaired. The sooner she finished up here, the sooner she could get back to the house. Her mother needed her. Needed moral support before breaking this news to the rest of the family.

Kelsey eyed the dormant vehicle. Did he intend to call a tow truck or attempt to levitate it? “So where do we go from here?”

Morgan thought for a moment, then said, “I’ve got an idea.”

It was starting to feel like she had to drag everything out of him. “Which is?”

Instead of answering her he sat down behind the steering wheel and felt around on the left side of the steering column for the hood release. Pulling it, he got out and opened the hood again. This time, it sagged immediately, refusing to remain up long enough for him to test his theory.

“I need you,” he said to Kelsey.

“Why, Officer Donnelly, we hardly know each other,” Kelsey quipped, deliberately batting her eyelashes at him.

“Cute,” he commented. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Come here.”

Man’s interpersonal skills left something to be desired, Kelsey thought. “Do I goose-step over,” she asked, “or just shuffle?”

“Point taken.” He hadn’t meant to sound as if he was ordering her around. “Come here, please. I need you to hold up the hood while I try to get your mother’s car going long enough to drive it over to my place.”

Joining him, she put her hands under the hood and held it up for him. “Assuming that you can accomplish this mystifying feat, where will I be while you’re driving the car?”

“You’ll be the one who’s driving the car,” he corrected. “I’ll follow in the squad car.”

From where she stood, that didn’t sound too promising. Kelsey stared down at the engine. “Is it safe?”

“To follow you?” he guessed, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know yet.”

“I was referring to driving the car.”

“Well, we’ll find out, won’t we?” he quipped. And then he laughed at her surprised expression. “Don’t worry, Kelsey. I won’t put you in a car that’s about to blow up.” He went back to adjusting wires. “Too much paperwork to fill out if that happens.”

She wasn’t sure if he was pulling her leg or not. His expression certainly didn’t enlighten her any. “Nice to know you have your priorities straight.”

“I’ll do just about anything to get out of doing paperwork,” he told her absently as he experimented with another connection. Whatever he did seemed to please him. “Okay,” he said, putting his hand up next to hers beneath the hood. “Put the key into the ignition again. See if it starts now.”

Kelsey had grave doubts, but she did as he told her. Turning the key, she began tapping on the accelerator, giving the car gas. The newer models were supposed to start up without that, but her mother’s car had always been a bit temperamental.

On the third tap, the engine responded with a rumble that increased in strength.

“It’s alive,” she pronounced, imitating Dr. Frankenstein in the classic horror movie.

Instead of letting the hood fall the way he had last time, Morgan eased it down gently. “Whatever you do, don’t turn it off. I want you to drive it over to my house,” he reminded her.