âWe have a picnic planned for this Saturday,â the pastor said.
âNot only to give potential parents information, but as a meet and greet so the mentors can get to know the boys and vice versa,â he continued. âWeâll match up the pairs after.â
âI donât know,â Jake hedged. âIâd have to know more about whatâs involved.â
âItâs easy. You just take a kid who needs a little time and attention under your wing.â
Under his wing.
That, Jake thought, wasnât as easy as it sounded. Not for someone like him.
Maybe he should have thought it through a little more when heâd told God heâd say yes to whatever He asked.
Especially considering he had been about to die when he made the promise.
âFlowers?â Police Chief Jake Sutton spotted the enormous bouquet of roses the moment he stepped into the break room, where the officers roosted near the coffee pot before heading out on patrol every morning. âIâm touched, guys, but you shouldnât have.â
The three men staring morosely at the fragrant centerpiece snapped to attention at the sound of his voice.
âWe didnât,â Phil Koenigs muttered, the droop of his narrow shoulders more pronounced than usual.
âNo offense, though, Chief,â Tony Tripenski added quickly. âWe would have brought you flowers if we knew you liked them.â His eyes widened when he saw Jakeâs eyebrow lift. âI mean, not that you look like the type of guy who likes flowersâ¦â
Phil rolled up the fingers on one hand and cuffed Tony on the shoulder. âPut the shovel away, Trip. All youâre doing is digging yourself a deeper hole.â
Glowering, the younger officer folded his arms across his chest and slumped lower in the chair.
Jake paused long enough to pour himself a cup of coffee before making his way to the table. Something warned him that he was going to need the extra caffeine. The last time heâd seen the men in such a dismal mood was the day heâd officially been sworn in as Mirror Lakeâs new police chief.
He flipped an empty chair away from the table and straddled it. âIf one of you has a secret admirer, youâd look a little happier. That means someone must be in the doghouse with the wife.â
âThe doghouse would be easier,â Steve Patterson, one of the part-time officers, grumbled.
âYeah.â Trip nodded. âMuch easier. Iâd rather face Sherry when sheâs in a mood thanâ¦â His voice dropped to a whisper. âYou know who.â
No, Jake didnât know. He hadnât been born and raised in the area, something more than a few people had been quick to point out since his arrival.
His gaze cut back to Phil. If he wanted a straight answer, it would most likely come from the senior officer. As second in command, Phil had been the most likely candidate to step into the shoes of the former police chief, whoâd opted for an early retirement. Instead, heâd astonished everyone by turning down the position.
Any concern that Philâs decision would make the transfer of power a rocky one had been put to rest when Jake found out Phil was the one whoâd pulled his resume from the stack of applications and given it his personal stamp of approval.
He still wasnât quite sure why. But he did know that if it werenât for the dour officerâs willingness to fill him in on the localâand sometimes colorfulâhistory of the town and the people who lived there, Jake might still be suffering from an acute case of culture shock. Within the first twenty-four hours, heâd discovered that what Mirror Lake lacked in population, it made up for in quirks.
He had a feeling he was about to add another one to the list.
He glanced at the officer, surprised when Phil averted his gaze. âPhil? Flowers?â
The officer scratched at a coffee stain on the table with his thumbnail. Sighed. âTheyâre for Emma Barlow.â
âOkay.â Jake drew a blank on the name. âIâll bite. Who is Emma Barlow?â
The three men exchanged looks but none of them seemed in a hurry to enlighten him. Jake waited, drawing on the patience that had become second nature while working as an undercover narcotics officer.