Cornered In Conard County

“Probably not. Some women love the uniform, not what’s inside it. And some cops want brief affairs and one-night stands, just like the women. Consenting adults and all that. But Brenda seemed different. Unfortunately, she was.”

Dory looked down and scratched Flash behind one ear. “How so?”

“I felt drawn to her, so I started sitting with her more and more often. As we got to know each other better, I decided she was genuine and I liked her. So we started dating. Long story short, I fell in love, we got married, and six months later I started to learn how wrong I was.”

He plucked a blade of dried grass, shaking his head, then stared away from her out over the pasture to the nearby mountains. He’d had mountains in Seattle, but here...these were already special to him somehow.

“Anyway, it turned out she couldn’t stand my job. Irregular hours, broken plans. She started in on me for being unreliable, demanding I find a regular job.”

She drew an audible breath. “She called a police officer unreliable? Really?”

“In all fairness, from her perspective I probably was. I lost count of the times I missed dinner or a movie date with her. She wanted a very different kind of life, and I wanted to remain in law enforcement. So then it got truly ugly. No reason to rake it up. But I learned something.”

“Yes?”

He looked up and found her blue eyes on him. “That maybe I should just avoid marrying anyone. I sure as hell was doing something wrong, something I never seemed able to fix unless I gave up part of myself.”

Now it was her turn to look away toward the mountains. Whatever she was thinking, Flash sensed something and stirred a bit, raising his gaze to her face. Almost instinctively, she petted him.

“I never got that close to anyone,” she said after a minute or two. “I couldn’t tell you whether either or both of you were at fault.”

“I’m not asking for that,” he said quickly. “But since we’re probably going to be seeing each other quite a bit because of Flash, I thought...”

“We could be friends,” she finished for him. She turned her face toward him. “I don’t make friends, Cadell. Except for Betty. She’s the lone exception.” She closed her eyes briefly, then snapped them open. “I’m incapable of real trust. Even years of therapy didn’t help with that. So...consider me broken, which I guess I am.”

Then she rose to her feet. Flash stood, too.

Cadell gave up on trying to reach her. He’d issued the warning he’d wanted to, but evidently she didn’t need it.

Closed up, walled in, all because of something she saw as a child. He wished he could say that surprised him.

He stood, too. “Want to take Flash home with you today?”

“Betty’s cats might object.”

“I thought you were moving?”

“I almost decided to, then changed my mind. Tomorrow, when the internet is installed.”

Everything settled, returning to normal. Back to business. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll keep him for you and bring him over tomorrow.”

Flash wanted to go with her when she started toward her car, but she told him to stay. Looking forlorn, he settled on his belly and put his snout between his paws.

Dory didn’t miss the expression. “Tomorrow, Flash. I promise.”

Cadell watched her drive away, forgetting himself and standing too close to the penned ostriches. He ducked just in time and stepped away.

“Dang birds,” he said, but his mind was elsewhere. He’d just learned a lot about Dory Lake, and far from putting him off, it made him hurt for her.

Damn her brother. If that guy showed up in this county, Cadell was going to feed him to the birds. The big birds.

Chapter Three (#uccb417b5-1823-5824-ad1f-26b7e3fb3d88)

The next morning, Betty insisted on helping Dory move many of her belongings. Most of it was computer equipment, some very heavy, but Betty brought the clothes and lighter items for the kitchen.

The house was partially furnished, which made Dory’s life easier, and already contained the items she’d had shipped here, mostly work related office furniture, including the extra battered old chair that tipped back farther than the new one. She loved to sit in it sometimes just to think. Eventually she could spiff the house or her office up if she wanted, but with most of her attention on her job, on creating graphics with her team, she was seldom more than half-aware of her surroundings.

The pile of clothes on her bed amused Betty, however. Jeans. T-shirts. More jeans. Sweatshirts. “Lord, girl, don’t you ever dress up?”

“I don’t have any need.” But Dory laughed, too. It did look odd, all together like that. Add the plain undies and the three pairs of jogging shoes and she was sure she would appall most women.

“We have to do something about your fashion sense,” Betty remarked.

“Why?” Dory asked. And that really was the question. She worked long days, she had no desire to socialize and the one man who’d managed to pierce her desire for isolation had told her he wasn’t interested because he’d had a bad marriage. She didn’t need a neon sign.

Betty followed her into her office and watched as Dory unpacked the real center of her life. “You know I love you,” she said as Dory pulled out the first of six monitors.

“I know.” She braced herself for what she was certain was coming.

“You need more of a life than your job. Won’t you at least meet one or two people I think you’d like?”

“I met Cadell,” she reminded Betty. “Nice guy. Also seriously burned by life.”

Betty sighed, then said a bit sarcastically, “Well, at least you’re a pair, then.”

“Nope,” said Dory. “Nice and all that, great dog trainer...”

“And gorgeous as hell,” Betty said bluntly. “At least tell me you’re not blind.”

Dory paused, a power cord in her hand. “Betty? Please tell me you’re not going to keep pushing me this way. Because if that’s your goal, I’ll stop unpacking right now.”

The room nearly turned to ice as Betty stared at her. Then almost as quickly as it came, the ice thawed. “No, that’s not my goal. I just worry about you. None of my business, I guess.”

Betty turned and went to get some more items from the car. Dory stared after her, realizing she had just hurt her only friend in the world.

Well, take that as a warning, she told herself. All she brought was pain. Whatever lay at her core, it was locked away forever. And that hurt other people.

She returned to setting up her office, glad to know that soon she’d been in touch with her team, the nerds who were fun and smart and never demanded she get personal about anything. A meeting of minds. Who needed a meeting of hearts?

As she turned back to her desk and began to connect more cables, she felt herself easing back into her comfortable world where she could control everything she needed to. Even her desk, shipped from her old home, seemed like a warm greeting, encouraging a new life.

Her life. Then she thought of Flash. Okay, so maybe there was more to it than the digital world she lived in.

Betty returned, her voice announcing her. She was speaking with someone, and Dory instinctively stiffened. She pivoted quickly to see Betty enter the office space with a woman wearing a tool belt.

“Dory, this is Rhonda, your cable man.”

Rhonda laughed. “I’m your cable tech person.”