say, berating herself mentally. You will do this, and you will keep your big fat mouth shut. Tote bags and her big purse weighing her down, arms loaded with heart shaped fabric boxes she had to back through the door into The Department of Public Safety’s office. Marge sat behind the counter and her little eyes narrowed, her mouth set in a firm, definitely uncooperative line.
Just do it fast.
“Good Morning, Marge! I know you say you have diabetes and I want you to know I’m not here to ask for anything, so please don’t think this is a bribe. I can’t get my permit to open shop and so much of my stock is perishable, so I’m giving it away.” Beth twisted to reveal the silk covered boxes better. “I’m hoping that some of the people who work here might be interested in these chocolates, they’re Ugandan, organic, the best I’ve ever had—quite expensive on the market but free today. Can I PLEASE leave these boxes here for whoever wants them?”
Marge’s eyes went to the colorful boxes with interest then flickered back to Beth suspiciously.
“It’s not like I can stop you.”
Beth dropped the boxes of chocolates on the countertop and bolted. She made it halfway down the hall before blurting, “You could if you really wanted to, liar.” She hoped Marge hadn’t heard her.
“Who you calling a liar?”
Beth swiveled towards the masculine voice, dropping several tote bags and her purse. An unfamiliar cop stood there, staring at her with a frown on his tanned face. He’d asked her a question, so of course she had to answer.
“Marge.” Motioning with her chin towards the door to the Department of Public Safety.
Brown eyes glanced in that direction and he tried to bite back a smile while grudgingly admitting, “She does lie.”
Then to Beth’s surprise the cop squatted down and started to gather her stuff together. She watched him critically, taking in the fact that he looked almost like a bodybuilder except that he was graceful. When he stood with her things, she felt skinny as a walking stick next to him.
“I’ll carry them to your car,” he offered, seemingly unabashed to carry the colorful totes and giant silver pocketbook past interested onlookers.
Beth took the opportunity to proceed with her campaign, and told the cop what her shop sold and invited him to come by.
“I don’t really have hours, but drop by anytime you see my car out front. I’m Beth White, by the way.”
“I know,” he admitted frankly.
Beth glanced at his badge that bore the name, ‘A. Drake.’ They stood by her car and his soft brown eyes studied her so intently that she blushed and added.
“Bring your wife or your girlfriend if you like. I’m sure I carry something you’d be interested in.”
“You mean that?”
“Of course I mean that, anything you need, stop by.”
“That’s all right. I think I have what I need now, thanks.” A. Drake slid Beth’s pocketbook back onto her shoulder and walked away.
Beth watched him curiously as he slid into his squad car, not so coincidentally parked nose to nose with her car. It wasn’t until he gave her a friendly wave and started to drive off that she realized with absolute certainty that he’d pocketed her cell phone from her purse.
WAKING BEFORE 4:00 a.m. shaking and sweaty from the shade of Golgotha, Kahtar ran the wooded paths behind his pond. Wolves’s barking chased him, but the dog couldn’t stay focused long enough to run with him. Breakfast was then charred venison, gummy oatcakes and freshly picked strawberries. Those nice berries might have saved his plebes from a caning, but did nothing for their self esteem when he told them exactly what he thought of their lack of skills.
An Old Guard met him in the huge old barn in the back field. From the moment Kahtar stepped into the dark, dusty confines of that barn he battled for his life. Old Guard did not play games. They tried to kill him, and he fought back with everything he had.
Just do it fast.
“Good Morning, Marge! I know you say you have diabetes and I want you to know I’m not here to ask for anything, so please don’t think this is a bribe. I can’t get my permit to open shop and so much of my stock is perishable, so I’m giving it away.” Beth twisted to reveal the silk covered boxes better. “I’m hoping that some of the people who work here might be interested in these chocolates, they’re Ugandan, organic, the best I’ve ever had—quite expensive on the market but free today. Can I PLEASE leave these boxes here for whoever wants them?”
Marge’s eyes went to the colorful boxes with interest then flickered back to Beth suspiciously.
“It’s not like I can stop you.”
Beth dropped the boxes of chocolates on the countertop and bolted. She made it halfway down the hall before blurting, “You could if you really wanted to, liar.” She hoped Marge hadn’t heard her.
“Who you calling a liar?”
Beth swiveled towards the masculine voice, dropping several tote bags and her purse. An unfamiliar cop stood there, staring at her with a frown on his tanned face. He’d asked her a question, so of course she had to answer.
“Marge.” Motioning with her chin towards the door to the Department of Public Safety.
Brown eyes glanced in that direction and he tried to bite back a smile while grudgingly admitting, “She does lie.”
Then to Beth’s surprise the cop squatted down and started to gather her stuff together. She watched him critically, taking in the fact that he looked almost like a bodybuilder except that he was graceful. When he stood with her things, she felt skinny as a walking stick next to him.
“I’ll carry them to your car,” he offered, seemingly unabashed to carry the colorful totes and giant silver pocketbook past interested onlookers.
Beth took the opportunity to proceed with her campaign, and told the cop what her shop sold and invited him to come by.
“I don’t really have hours, but drop by anytime you see my car out front. I’m Beth White, by the way.”
“I know,” he admitted frankly.
Beth glanced at his badge that bore the name, ‘A. Drake.’ They stood by her car and his soft brown eyes studied her so intently that she blushed and added.
“Bring your wife or your girlfriend if you like. I’m sure I carry something you’d be interested in.”
“You mean that?”
“Of course I mean that, anything you need, stop by.”
“That’s all right. I think I have what I need now, thanks.” A. Drake slid Beth’s pocketbook back onto her shoulder and walked away.
Beth watched him curiously as he slid into his squad car, not so coincidentally parked nose to nose with her car. It wasn’t until he gave her a friendly wave and started to drive off that she realized with absolute certainty that he’d pocketed her cell phone from her purse.
WAKING BEFORE 4:00 a.m. shaking and sweaty from the shade of Golgotha, Kahtar ran the wooded paths behind his pond. Wolves’s barking chased him, but the dog couldn’t stay focused long enough to run with him. Breakfast was then charred venison, gummy oatcakes and freshly picked strawberries. Those nice berries might have saved his plebes from a caning, but did nothing for their self esteem when he told them exactly what he thought of their lack of skills.
An Old Guard met him in the huge old barn in the back field. From the moment Kahtar stepped into the dark, dusty confines of that barn he battled for his life. Old Guard did not play games. They tried to kill him, and he fought back with everything he had.
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