Prince Charming Wears a Badge Read Online Free
Author: Lisa Dyson
road that led to her childhood home.
When she reached the long driveway, she pulled over onto the gravel-and-dirt shoulder to gather her courage. She pressed the button to turn off the engine of her dark red sports carâthe one sheâd splurged on, buying it outright with her last bonus.
She could see the house farther up the hill. It didnât appear much different than when sheâd lived there all those years ago.
The house held painful secrets, but from the outside youâd never guess it was anything but run-down.
The white clapboard was dingy and one of the dark green shutters was missing, while several others hung slightly crooked. The landscaping needed work. The grass needed to be mowed and the evergreen bushes near the front door were overgrown. One of the large oak trees in the front yard was dead. The next big storm could knock the tree into the house if it wasnât taken down soon.
Callie hadnât called ahead to let her dad know sheâd be coming. It wasnât that she didnât want him to know, it was more that she didnât want to give her stepmother a heads-up. This visit would be difficult enough without giving the woman prep time.
Callie stayed in her car for quite a while, gathering her courage to face her past. There were only a few other houses down this quiet road. Not even one car passed by as she sat there.
Her stomach was in knots. She should have eaten lunch, but sheâd figured an empty stomach was better than a full one that could reverse direction if her anxiety got out of control.
Which it was definitely threatening.
She uncapped the water bottle in the center console drink holder and took a long swig. The cool liquid somewhat soothed her dry mouth but offered no relief to her stomach. She replaced the cap and turned her attention back to her fatherâs house.
A car was visible in the detached garage, the door having been left open. She hoped that meant her father was home, but sheâd been gone too long to know if it was her fatherâs car or her stepmotherâs.
It was now or never. She would prefer never, but that wouldnât make her therapist happy. Callie needed to get this over with and move on.
The engine turned over when she pressed the start button. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the gearshift and froze.
She reminded herself that she was an adult now. Not the eighteen-year-old whoâd left home for college eleven years ago. She could stand up for herself, could leave whenever she wanted. No one could force her to do something against her will.
She wasnât that scared little girl, so easily intimidated.
She put the car in gear and slowly pulled back onto the two-lane road riddled with potholes that still hadnât been patched from last yearâs harsh winter.
She carefully turned right into the long driveway leading to her childhood home and stopped abruptly.
Her head throbbed.
Before she could change her mind, she threw the car into reverse and backed out onto the street to face the direction from which sheâd come.
A single bead of sweat ran down her temple. Not from the heat but from anxiety.
Without another glance at the house, she gunned the engine and headed back through the downtown area.
She hadnât realized she was holding her breath until she let it out as she passed the sign saying Thanks for Visiting Whittlerâs Creek, Come Again.
She knew of a small hotel in a neighboring town that she could check in to for the night. After breakfast tomorrow, sheâd look for a more semi-permanent housing solution, rather than pay daily hotel rates.
Sheâd also work on reinforcing her courage.
* * *
M ONDAY MORNING T YLER G ARRETT rubbed his face with both hands, barely able to control the urge to bang his head on his desk as he surveyed his crowded office.
He was Whittlerâs Creekâs Chief of Police, not a financial guru. He had no way of deciphering the mountain of binders
When she reached the long driveway, she pulled over onto the gravel-and-dirt shoulder to gather her courage. She pressed the button to turn off the engine of her dark red sports carâthe one sheâd splurged on, buying it outright with her last bonus.
She could see the house farther up the hill. It didnât appear much different than when sheâd lived there all those years ago.
The house held painful secrets, but from the outside youâd never guess it was anything but run-down.
The white clapboard was dingy and one of the dark green shutters was missing, while several others hung slightly crooked. The landscaping needed work. The grass needed to be mowed and the evergreen bushes near the front door were overgrown. One of the large oak trees in the front yard was dead. The next big storm could knock the tree into the house if it wasnât taken down soon.
Callie hadnât called ahead to let her dad know sheâd be coming. It wasnât that she didnât want him to know, it was more that she didnât want to give her stepmother a heads-up. This visit would be difficult enough without giving the woman prep time.
Callie stayed in her car for quite a while, gathering her courage to face her past. There were only a few other houses down this quiet road. Not even one car passed by as she sat there.
Her stomach was in knots. She should have eaten lunch, but sheâd figured an empty stomach was better than a full one that could reverse direction if her anxiety got out of control.
Which it was definitely threatening.
She uncapped the water bottle in the center console drink holder and took a long swig. The cool liquid somewhat soothed her dry mouth but offered no relief to her stomach. She replaced the cap and turned her attention back to her fatherâs house.
A car was visible in the detached garage, the door having been left open. She hoped that meant her father was home, but sheâd been gone too long to know if it was her fatherâs car or her stepmotherâs.
It was now or never. She would prefer never, but that wouldnât make her therapist happy. Callie needed to get this over with and move on.
The engine turned over when she pressed the start button. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the gearshift and froze.
She reminded herself that she was an adult now. Not the eighteen-year-old whoâd left home for college eleven years ago. She could stand up for herself, could leave whenever she wanted. No one could force her to do something against her will.
She wasnât that scared little girl, so easily intimidated.
She put the car in gear and slowly pulled back onto the two-lane road riddled with potholes that still hadnât been patched from last yearâs harsh winter.
She carefully turned right into the long driveway leading to her childhood home and stopped abruptly.
Her head throbbed.
Before she could change her mind, she threw the car into reverse and backed out onto the street to face the direction from which sheâd come.
A single bead of sweat ran down her temple. Not from the heat but from anxiety.
Without another glance at the house, she gunned the engine and headed back through the downtown area.
She hadnât realized she was holding her breath until she let it out as she passed the sign saying Thanks for Visiting Whittlerâs Creek, Come Again.
She knew of a small hotel in a neighboring town that she could check in to for the night. After breakfast tomorrow, sheâd look for a more semi-permanent housing solution, rather than pay daily hotel rates.
Sheâd also work on reinforcing her courage.
* * *
M ONDAY MORNING T YLER G ARRETT rubbed his face with both hands, barely able to control the urge to bang his head on his desk as he surveyed his crowded office.
He was Whittlerâs Creekâs Chief of Police, not a financial guru. He had no way of deciphering the mountain of binders
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