“Sure, what’s up?” She entered his office and stood in front of his desk.
“If Millie is a nickname, what might a real name be?”
Without skipping a beat or asking unnecessary questions, she replied, “Mildred. Melania. Amelia. Emily. Millicent. Camilla. Possibly Margaret—”
“Oh, good grief! Why did I think this is going to be easy?” He shoved back in his chair, his fingers no longer hovering over his keyboard. When he’d awoken this morning, she was on his mind just as she was when he’d gone to sleep. He’d decided to do a cursory check to see if he had any reason to be concerned either about her or for her.
Roxie’s brow furrowed, and she sat in the chair close by his desk. “Can I ask what you’re looking for? Is there a problem?”
He lifted his hand and squeezed the back of his neck, rolling his shoulders. “I met my new neighbor, the woman renting the Hawthorne house. She was very nervous, and the vibe she gave off was one of fear. I thought I’d do a quick check this morning to see if there was anything I could find out about her.”
“Do you think she’s running away? Possibly from domestic violence?”
Shaking his head slowly, he shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought I’d check to see if there was a restraining order she’d put on someone or if I had any reason to be concerned. But I’m not going to dig too deep unless something happens where I need to.” Glancing at the time, he logged out of his computer and stood. “I’ve got an LEL meeting this morning, so I better hit the road. I’ll be back after lunch.”
As he drove toward Baytown, he forced his mind off Millie and onto the upcoming meeting. These gatherings were his favorite activity as police chief. There, he found not only professional camaraderie but friendship, as well. There, he was truly an equal. Growing up in the area, he’d had to battle the stigma of being the poor kid with the hand-me-down clothes that never seemed to fit right no matter how much his mother worked on them. Now, he came to the table with his head held high.
There were few law enforcement leaders on the Eastern Shore, and each month, more often if needed, they met and pooled resources, shared information, and worked to keep the peninsula safe. Mitch Evans had been the police chief of Baytown for four years, having come from the FBI and Army military police. Colt Hudson was the Sheriff of North Heron County and had been an investigator for the Army. Liam Sullivan, also having served in the Army, was the Acawmacke County Sheriff. Rounding out the group was Dylan Hunt, the police chief of Seaside, and his wife, Hannah Freeman, the police chief of the small town of Easton.
Except for Hannah, Wyatt had gone to school during some of the same years as the other chiefs and sheriffs. They’d all treated him fairly, but by the time they were playing high school ball, he was working long hours after school to help his family. He’d never begrudged them their success, but having worked so hard for his, he loved being on the same playing field now.
Entering Baytown, he couldn’t help but smile at the similarities with Manteague, such as the main street with most of the shops and restaurants and town offices. Pulling into the police station parking lot, he jogged in and waved toward Mildred, their longtime police receptionist. She greeted him warmly, then waved him on into the conference room. Once there, he poured another cup of coffee, doctored it just the way he liked, then sat at the table with the others.
“Sorry, I’m a few minutes late. I was working on something and let the time slip up on me.”
“Everything okay?” Hannah asked.
“Just going down the rabbit hole, that’s all.” He sipped the coffee, appreciating the excellent brew. He hadn’t gone by the coffee shop, so this was his first cup of the day.
With Mitch hosting, he opened the agenda. “This past month has been quiet in Baytown.” Throwing his hands up in front of him, he added, “Don’t get me wrong. Quiet for law enforcement is always a good thing. Glancing at the reports you all sent in before the meeting, I realized that we’re not an anomaly.”
“Overall, in the county,” Colt began, “we’ve had misdemeanors, domestics, a few robberies, a couple of drug busts, and car accidents. Had one fight in the bar off highway thirteen that resulted in three arrests. For springtime, that’s not bad at all.”
The others nodded their agreement, Wyatt included. “Manteague’s town council has ramped up the summer activities, hoping to draw in more visitors. They’ve added bands in the park on the weekends, family activities on the harbor, and street parties.” He shot Mitch a grin. “I think they’ve taken a page out of Baytown’s book: bring in the visitors and bring in the money.”
“Yeah, and bring in the trouble,” Dylan said. “So far, Seaside and Easton have downplayed the visitors and just mostly provide activities for the residents. Of course, that keeps our budgets a lot slimmer!”
“Send me all those dates, and I’ll provide deputies as a backup to your officers.” Since Manteague was in Acawmacke County, Liam had jurisdiction even in the towns and provided deputies whenever needed. Colt did the same for the North Heron County towns.
“Appreciate it,” Wyatt said and meant it.
After completing the other items on the law enforcement agenda, their conversation moved to the local American Legion chapter, to which they all belonged. The chapter supported many activities in the area, but one of the most beloved was the summer youth baseball teams. For the first couple of years, the practices and games had been held at the old Baytown baseball field. Recently, the AL had had enough volunteers to make sure the children and teens could play in various areas around the counties. Wyatt had been instrumental in getting Manteague to clean up a previously unused field and was excited about his town now being on the rotation.
When the meeting ended, the group headed to the pub for lunch. Finn’s Pub was run by the MacFarlanes and was a favorite establishment. Walking inside, he grinned at the two men behind the bar, Aiden and Brogan MacFarlane. Brothers, similar in looks and different in personalities, they managed to entertain as well as serve some of the best food in Baytown. Placing his order for a pub burger and fries, he settled at the table with the others.
Mitch’s gaze moved past him, and a smile crossed his face. Wyatt didn’t need to turn around to know who was walking in. Mitch’s wife, Tori, greeted everyone at the table before bending to kiss Mitch lightly and handing their newborn girl to him while still managing to keep hold of their two-year-old son.
Colt’s normally taciturn expression broke into a wide grin as well, and Wyatt turned to see Carrie waddle in. He leaped to his feet to greet her.
“We can scoot over,” Wyatt offered, starting to shift his chair.
“Oh, we aren’t staying, but thanks all the same,” Carrie said, smiling at him before her gaze moved back to Colt. “Tori and I are out for a walk and saw you all come in.”
“Should you be walking?” Colt asked, his gaze dropping to her protruding stomach.
“I’d better take advantage of the nice weather before I have this baby and it gets too hot,” Carrie said.
Carrie and Tori left before the food arrived but not until after everyone talked about the babies being born in their friend group. Wyatt looked around the table, glad his friends had managed to meet the loves of their lives, but couldn’t help but feel a pang of loneliness. He wasn’t interested in easy sex, usually looking for a woman that held his interest. But, after a short period of dating, he could always tell when it wasn’t going to be a long-term relationship. Sighing, he hoped one day he’d be part of the group discussion about weddings, babies, and kids keeping him up at night.