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Sure, she would remember the wreck. Hard to forget something like that. She’d remember his blood all over the place. She’d remember the bone sticking gruesomely out of his leg, something which he himself would just as soon forget, the metal pins they’d used to set it back in place a stomach-turning memory on its own. She’d remember the freezing rain that had been pelting down that day, soaking her from head to toe and making her shiver as she amateurly dressed his wounds. The wail of sirens in the distance and the relief she’d undoubtedly felt when the EMTs arrived to take over.
Chances were good she would remember all that, but would she remember him? Maybe for her, it was all just trauma. People blocked out trauma all the time, didn’t they?
In any case, his personal errand would have to wait. As each stride brought him closer to his destination, Nico’s stomach began to clench, his palms felt clammy, and more than once he considered turning around, getting in his car, and making a beeline back to Boston. Only sheer grit kept him from doing so.
As expected, the Mercy Cove Police Department was as quaint as the rest of the town. Neat hedges, well-maintained gardens. There was even a donut shop attached to the left side of the building, making it so blatantly stereotypical Nico had to hold back a smirk as he approached.
The scent of said donuts met him at the door when he entered, as did a plump woman standing up from behind the counter. She wore no uniform and looked more like a grandma popping in to drop off snacks than a desk clerk.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
Nico crossed the tiny foyer lined with brochures and a few standard-issue waiting chairs.
“Nico Dominici here to see Chief West.”
She looked him up and down and lifted her chin. “Do you have an appointment?”
Nico frowned. “Is one required?”
“Not necessarily. I just get a kick out of exercising my power as the gatekeeper is all.”
Watching her fold her arms and wait for his reply, Nico decided he liked her. She wore a name tag. Cora.
“Pretty name, Cora.”
“Oh, darlin’, that won’t work at all, but you go ahead and keep trying.”
Now he really liked her.
“I’m assuming you know who I am? Your new lieutenant.”
“Acting lieutenant is what I heard.”
“Semantics,” he replied, smiling. “I, ah, couldn’t help but notice that little shop next door.”
She nodded. “Best cinnamon glaze in America.”
“Is that so? Alright, Cora, how about this. You let me through, and I’ll walk over there afterward, grab myself a sugary breakfast, and a cinnamon glaze for you. Sound good?”
Cora narrowed her eyes, a slow grin spreading. “A donut ain’t breakfast, son.”
“Which goes to show just how much I’m willing to sacrifice for a show of good faith.”
On a chuckle, her arms dropped. “Hang on, I’ll see if he’s busy.”
“Appreciate it.”
Once she’d disappeared, Nico took a good look at the station. Behind the counter, he could see the main work room and a holding cell in the corner. Four desks pushed together in twin formations, task lights, filing cabinets, paperwork everywhere. There was a hallway toward the back where Cora had gone. He assumed that the chief’s office was somewhere that way.
It was quiet, no officers around that he could see or hear. Either they were all out on patrols or the town wasn’t busy enough to staff them around the clock. Nico wondered how he would fare working in a place like this. Less action, of course, but in the grand scheme of things, he didn’t think he’d miss it too much. Especially if he had a good woman to come home to, maybe a nice house with a deck he could barbecue on come the weekends.
Whoa. Ease up.
A hiatus was one thing, but he’d be back in the city before too long. Best not to fantasize about a life that would never be his.
The sound of Cora’s shoes tapping on the linoleum floor interrupted his thoughts. She tilted her head. “Come on back. He’s just finishing up a phone call.”
Nico took note of the layout as he followed her through. Cop habit. As he’d anticipated, there were some interview rooms—all open and empty—along one side of the hallway. Restrooms and a maintenance closet on the other. And right at the end, behind a frosted glass door with the word Chief spelled out in thick black letters across the front sat the man he had come to see.
