Page 8 of Smitty

I couldn’t help but laugh. There was a reason why I loved her the way I did. “Because you love me.”

“You’re right. I do.” Gloria waited a moment, then added, “Don’t forget about Saturday.”

“Oh, about that…”

“You’re not backing out.”

“Of course not.”

“You’ve already bailed on me three times.”

“It was once, and Anslee had a fever.”

“Don’t forget about the flat tire.”

“Oh, yeah, but that wasn’t my fault.” I felt guilty lying, yet again, but I couldn’t back down now. “There was a nail and a screw, and it took the guy over an hour to find the hole.”

“Yeah, yeah. I remember all about the nail and the screw.”

Gloria had it in her head that she and I should start playing tennis. She decided I needed a hobby that didn’t involve paperwork or worrying, and she was right. I did need a hobby, but Saturdays were hard to work around, especially with all I had going on.

But I’d made her a promise, so I asked, “What time do you want to meet?”

“Seven or eight, but no later than that.”

“In the morning?” I whined.

“It’s going to be hot, and it’ll only get hotter the longer we wait.”

“Okay. Okay. Let’s do seven-thirty.”

“And no tire issues or babies with fevers.”

“Nope. I’ll be there.”

“You’d better be, or no more surprise coffees for you.”

“Understood.”

“Good.” Her warm smile turned into a cocky smirk. “Winner buys coffee.”

“You got yourself a deal.”

With that, she turned and went back to her office. I sat there smiling at my now-empty doorway. Gloria was a good friend, even if she was going to force me to play tennis bright and early on a Saturday morning.

I glanced back down at the file and began the tedious task of trying to figure out what I might’ve missed or who I might need to talk to in order to finally close the case on Dylan Mercer.

By the time I shut down my computer, the office had cleared out, and the cleaning crew was rolling in, which meant I was even later than I thought. I gathered my things and left the file sitting on the corner of my desk. I hated leaving questions unanswered, but there wasn’t anything more I could do tonight.

Besides, I had to get to the daycare before six, or I’d get another fine. That was the last thing I needed, so I rushed outside and wasted no time getting across town. Forty-five minutes later, I was parked at the front door of Anslee’s daycare.

I rushed inside, and to no surprise, the room was much quieter than it had been early that morning when I dropped her off. Most of the kids had already been picked up, and the ones remaining were sitting on the floor, their eyes glued to a movie the daycare was playing on the TV.

Anslee was sitting in the back, twirling one of her long curls around her little finger, like she always did whenever she was tired or bored. She was an adorable eighteen-month-old with chubby cheeks, tiny freckles on her nose, and a round middle. She also had the most precious smile, but it was her beautiful blue eyes that stood out the most.

They were endlessly blue, bright, and full of innocence.

The second she spotted me, her entire face lit up, and my heart nearly leaped out of my chest. She quickly shuffled to her feet and called out, “Momma! Momma! It’s my momma!”