Oh, believe me, I have.
I’m not sure if they’ll have more trouble with the rat or the homeowner at this point, but that’s their problem.
“They’re here. Praise the Lord, we’re saved. Kids, we’resaved!”
“Alright, Mrs. Willis. I’ll let you talk to the emergency responders on the scene.”
Mrs. Willis doesn’t say goodbye. Instead, I hear her begin regaling a firefighter with the comings and goings of her resident rat. I make a mental note to drop off something sweet at the fire station during their next Monday night training session. I owe this crew one after sending them over there to deal with the crazy.
I disconnect the call, and immediately my screen lights up with another one incoming. I scrub the lingering impatience and annoyance from my mind and pick up.
Two hours later, I’m exhausted as I say goodbye to the dispatchers who are settling in for the night shift.
“Noli, you coming?” Katherine, one of my fellow day-shifters, stands at the door. “Collin’s buying the first round.”
I shake my head and offer her a closed-mouth smile. I keep my lips pressed together because the thought of spending any time with Collin Rattler makes me gag a little. Today is his final day as my boss. He finished his three-month commitment in the comm center, and now he’s heading back out on patrol while he campaigns for county sheriff. The whole team is getting together at a local watering hole to toast to Collin. While I’m thrilled—truly—that I won’t be working directly with the guy anymore, the absolute last thing I want to do is celebrate that fact with the man himself.
Also, I don’t really go out for fun these days, so there’s that.
“Nah, I’m beat. Have a good time, though.”
Katherine pouts but then disappears into the winter night.
I take my time donning my coat, hat, and mittens, partly because I don’t want to have to deflect questions from anyone else about why I’ll be a no-show tonight and partly because winter in Wisconsin could give Antarctica a run for its money.
As soon as I’ve outfitted myself for a polar expedition, I step outside. The cold air momentarily takes my breath away. It’s black as soot out here because the sun is already down. It’s no wonder I feel cranky all the time. My vitamin D stores are seriously depleted.
I shift my gaze to where laughter is coming from the parking lot. My coworkers are piling into cars, chipper as can be, and heading downtown.
I don’t see Collin, and it’s a small mercy.
I’ve kept my distance these past few months—as much as a person can when working directly beneath someone else. My motto has beenspeak when spoken to, but otherwise, keep your head down and do the work. It’s gone okay by my assessment.
Turns out, Collin is exactly like I pegged him when he pulled me over on my first day in town. Smug. Cocky. Good at his job but so full of himself that it negates any of his positive qualities. Worst of all, he’s a total playboy. A womanizer. There’s a term for it I’ve read in my sister Rose’s historical-romance collection, and it suits him perfectly—the guy is a total rake.
Funny. That rhymes with snake.
And that’s my nickname for him.
Collin “the snake” Rattler.
It’s impossible to ignore the string of women he takes out. I swear it’s a different girl every week. They show up here at the police station to pick him up at the end of his shift. They’re all giggly and cute. Don’t get me wrong, they’re put together and probably lovely human beings, but their eyes basically have hearts springing out of them when they look at Collin.
I don’t see it, honestly. Sure, Collin is handsome on a purely elemental level. Square jaw. Piercing green eyes. Muscles defined enough you can see them stretching beneath his uniform. But what good is a pretty package if what’s underneath is scum?
Harsh? Maybe. But everything I know about the man, I truly don’t like. So, there.
Good for those other girls, I guess. If they want Collin, they can have him. I hope they realize that he’s going to date them and drop them faster than a hot potato.
Speaking of a hot potato, I could use one right about now. Isn’t that how they used to stay warm in pioneer times? My mittens are doing literally nothing to keep my fingers from freezing, so I shove my hands under my arms and hunch up my shoulders to try to stop the frigid wind from getting into the collar of my coat. My gaze flits from the parking lot to the street on the opposite side of the police station where I parked this morning.
I blink into the darkness because what I’m seeing—or not seeing—can’t be right.
My eyes are watering in response to the negative ten degree air temperature, so I blink again.
“What the heck?” I say out loud, my breath pluming in a white cloud in front of me.
I march over to the side road and look left and right. My car is nowhere to be found.
