“She’s gorgeous,” Taffeta whispered. “I mean, I bet she makes every man within a mile of her drool. Did she reward you with sex?”
Barney jerked back to the moment, studied his wife’s sweet face, and realized she had the green monster called jealousy digging its claws into her heart. Shit. “Hell, no. Sex? With Crystal? She isn’t my type.”
“What is your type?”
Barney felt on solid ground again. “A man doesn’t really know what his type is until he finds her. I searched and searched until I found you.”
She tipped her head, gazing dubiously at him. “So you didn’t try Crystal on for size?”
“Nope.” Barney tried never to lie to this woman. She was the heart of his heart. “I tried a lot of women on for size, Taffy, but never Crystal. And just so you know, I never spent the night with any of those women. I engaged in intimacy, yes, always taking safety precautions, but as soon as it was over, I left. No morning wake-up coffee. Few second dates. I never found anyone who called to me the way that you did and still do. Please don’t be jealous of Crystal. She’s a nice lady, and she might be a great friend for you.”
Taffeta finally smiled. “Okay, I felt a stab of jealousy for a second. Crystal is so—” She waved a hand. “Well, she’s everything I’m not, beautiful, smart, friendly, self-confident, fashionable, and—”
“You’re all of those things, too,” Barney inserted. “But you have one other feature that really whammed me.”
“What is it?”
Barney tried to describe it in his mind and came up blank. “I don’t know. It’s a special feeling I get when I look at you or see you smile or hear your voice. It’s what made me fall in love with you.”
She studied his face and nodded. “I understand. That’s how I feel about you, too. So finish the spider story.”
“Well, I found the spider and showed it to her on a paper towel. She screamed and almost fell off the table, telling me to smash it. I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t a dangerous spider, not even one that would bite and leave an itchy spot. So I opened one of her windows and set it outside on the sill.”
“Was she happy with that resolution?”
“As long as the tarantula was out of her apartment, she cared about nothing else. Not even how much it might cost her to repair her door.”
Taffeta sighed and rested her chin on her folded hands to gaze at him. “The kids will love to hear about your job, and I think the reality of being a small-town cop is a better slant for your presentation. Like you said, on TV, cops have shoot-outs with bad guys. The videos seldom feature lawmen like you, who know people personally and help them when they’re scared, or angry, or in trouble. Children need to realize that most cops are their friends, people they can trust. Sarah needs to know that, and maybe, by listening to you talk about your job, she can learn that.”
Barney sighed. “It’s a long shot, sweetheart. That kid is terrified of me.”
“All we can do is try, pray, and be patient.” She toyed with the saltshaker. “Bottom line, we’re husband and wife. We’re committed to each other. It may take time for Sarah to accept that, but in the end, she has to, because you’re a permanent fixture in my life.”
“And if she never accepts it? She’s your daughter. I know how much you love her. I’ll never expect you to put me first, Taffy. It’s your God-given duty to put her first, always.”
“And I am.” Taffeta straightened on the chair. “There are some bad cops out there. We hear about them all the time on the news. But they are the exception, not the rule. They make the news because they either did something bad or are accused of doing something bad. Officers like you don’t make the news because good cops, the real heroes, are too mundane for the sensationalism required to keep news channel ratings high. What kind of life will Sarah have if she grows up and becomes a stripper or a drug user, or both? I need to get her on the right path, and I can only do that with your help. She needs a good mother and a good father—who just happens to be a law officer.”
Barney loved her too much to argue the point, especially since he wasn’t sure his leaving had been the right decision in the first place. “All right. We’re in this together, for better or worse. Now will you dance for me naked?”
Taffeta burst out laughing. She was already pulling that pink top that he loved off over her head as she rose from the chair. Barney wanted her so badly that he scooped her up in his arms before she could ask him to turn on the music. The stereo wasn’t part of his plan anyway. The tango he wanted to engage in would occur on his king-size bed.
• • •
Barney had no clue how to prepare photographs for a slide projector show. He kept saying he needed transparent photos. Taffeta, who had learned how to do slide shows in college, took it upon herself to drive around Mystic Creek, asking people whom Barney had helped if they had any photographs of the events. Amazingly Mrs. Dominique had taken heartwarming photos of Barney with the half-frozen kitten long after the news crew had left her property. Barney, wrapping the kitten in a heating pad. Barney, dripping thin, warm mush into the kitten’s mouth. Barney, holding the kitten close to his neck with his chin tucked in to form a cocoon of warmth with his body heat to save the kitten.
When Taffeta looked at all the photographs that she’d collected from people all over town, including the newspaper office, she came to understand things about Barney Sterling that she’d never imagined. He was a big, strapping man, yet he could gently lift a dog with a broken leg without being bitten. Even more important, if the dog had bitten him, she could tell by the determined expression on his face that he wouldn’t have cared. He was a true hero, helping the injured, or needy, or frightened, and he didn’t do it for the glory. She came to love him even more as she organized the pictures that showed so clearly what a dear person he truly was. She had not made a mistake by trusting in him.
On her laptop at work, she created the story of Barney’s life as a deputy in Mystic Creek with pictures that she had scanned into her computer. She contacted the school to be sure they had the electronic equipment needed to project the slide show onto a large screen, and she was told that not only did the school have the equipment but an experienced operator would be on hand to play the show for the children.
She expected Barney’s objections when she told him, “I think you need to prepare your opening speech and nothing more. I don’t want you to see the images in the slide show beforehand, Barney. I want you to watch the photographs come up with the kids and be spontaneous with them. You’re so warm and natural with everyone. If you go in prepared, you may sound like a recording.”
He had just poured each of them a glass of wine before dinner. Holding his glass halfway to his mouth, he gaped at her. “You want me to fly by the seat of my pants?”
Taffeta wanted to hug him. “That’s how you do your job, by the seat of your pants. I want you to just talk to the children, as if they are your friends. I’ll admit, I have a stake in this, but I don’t think I’m making a bad call. I’ve listened to too many well-rehearsed lectures, and they are often boring. It’ll be more fun for you and the kids if you’re searching for me in the crowd, asking where I found that picture. And then you can tell the kids about it. They’ll love it.” She paused to swallow. “Sarah will love it.”
• • •
The following Tuesday, Barney was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a roomful of Irish line dancers. Taffeta accompanied him during the long drive, chattering excitedly about his presentation, saying the kids would absolutely love it. Barney hadn’t seen any of the pictures that she’d scanned into her computer and organized into a slide show. He kept glancing with growing dread at her laptop case, which rested on the floorboard at her feet. Most of the time, he enjoyed being spontaneous, but he felt out of his element stepping onto a stage without any of his lines rehearsed. He could only hope that he didn’t blow the whole thing.
>
Taffeta chose to sit with her ex-father-in-law in the front row. The school janitor had set up what looked like hundreds of chairs in divided rows where the audience could sit to watch Barney on the stage. The podium, sporting a microphone, sat off to the right so that Barney could make eye contact with the kids as he talked and also see the huge projection screen.
Today he wore his uniform, and he was worried about that. The whole idea behind this performance was for him to win over Sarah, and she started to hyperventilate when she saw any man wearing a badge. Offstage, Barney watched through a crack in the back curtains as the auditorium began to fill with kids. The kindergartners came first and filled the front rows. He had eyes only for Sarah, who made a point of glaring at her grandfather and mother before choosing a chair as far away from them as she could possibly get. She clearly hadn’t yet forgiven Cameron or her mom for what she believed had been a betrayal.
The principal, an attractive, well-dressed blonde in her forties, stepped up to the podium first to introduce Barney. “Today we have a very special guest who is going to speak to you about what it’s like to be a law officer. His name is Deputy Barney Sterling. He is a peace officer in Mystic Creek, a small town on the other side of the Cascade Mountains. Over the last week, all of you have learned a lot about policemen. Today you are going to hear a real lawman speak to you about what his job is like.” She stepped away from the stand and turned toward the curtains. “I proudly welcome Deputy Barney Sterling.”
When the principal began to clap to invite Barney onto the stage, all the kids followed suit. Barney’s knees turned to water. He’d never experienced stage fright. Normally he felt at ease when he spoke to large crowds. But he’d never had so much at stake all those other times.
He stepped out and somehow remembered to shake hands with the principal before he moved behind the podium. Showtime. Only his well-practiced, introductory speech fled from his mind. He drew a complete blank. All he could think of to say was “Hi. My name is Barney.”
Great start, Sterling. He swallowed. His throat felt like sandpaper. Stickiness clung to his tongue. When he moved his lips, they stuck to his teeth. His hands trembled. Sweat beaded on his brow. He looked at Taffeta. She smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. That didn’t help him out at all. He slid his gaze to Sarah, who sat in the second row, her thin arms hugging her waist, her expression contorting her sweet little face into a grimace of hatred. He locked gazes with her, and instead of trying to remember his speech, he said all the things that he’d wished a hundred times that he could tell this little girl.
“A lot of kids are afraid of cops. To me, being a cop who wants to help kids when they’re in trouble, that’s really sad. I know your parents have told you never to talk to strangers, and if you’re smart, you never should. There are a lot of really nice people in our world, but there are also a few bad ones, and terrible things can happen to children who trust them.
“As a deputy, I see all the reports that come in about missing children, and there are so many across our country that it breaks my heart. Most of the time, those kids have been kidnapped, and a huge percentage of them are never found. When I see pictures of those missing kids, I wonder if they were afraid to approach a cop to ask for help right before they were kidnapped.
“Most cops are on the streets to help people. Yes, we arrest people sometimes for committing crimes. Yes, we stop cars and give the drivers tickets for speeding. A lot of kids hear their parents complaining about some cop who stopped them and fined them a lot of money just for the heck of it. But the truth is, when people drive too fast or run red lights, they are putting other people in danger. Your principal introduced me as a peace officer. I like to think that I’m more a safety officer.”
Sarah glared at him. Barney held her burning gaze.
“On television, you’ll see movies about cops in big cities. They shoot guns at criminals. They slam offenders against walls. They act all mean and tough. But most real cops never have to use their guns. Where I live, the town is pretty small. I know most of the people in Mystic Creek, and they are my friends. When they call for help, they usually need me to do little things for them. I’ve never had to fire my gun. I’ve never had to hit someone, not even if they tried to hit me first. Instead I use my training to block the blow, and then I get that person under control, using moves that will cause no physical injury.
“But mostly, my job is pretty boring. I drive the roads to make sure someone hasn’t driven off into a ditch. I look at the houses I pass to make sure the people inside are safe.” Barney smiled at Sarah. “And I eat a lot of really fabulous donuts.”
Barney cleared his throat and directed his gaze at Taffeta. “My wife has prepared a slide show for you. I haven’t seen any of the pictures, so I’ll be winging it as I tell you about each of them. Be prepared. Being a cop isn’t as exciting as you probably think.”
Taffeta rose from her seat and went backstage. An instant later, a picture of Barney in civilian clothes popped up on the huge screen. At first, he couldn’t remember what he’d been doing. He was bent over at the corner of a sidewalk, and hidden behind his legs was an old lady, half sitting up with her feet spread and the tops of her thigh-high support hose showing.
“Ah. That lady’s name is Esther. She lives alone in a tiny, old house. She’s very old and she fell down one afternoon as she started to cross the street in town. I was off duty, so I wasn’t in uniform, but as a deputy, I’m always on duty to help people.” Barney glanced out at the kids. “How many of you are always on duty to help people if they fall down?” Countless hands shot up. Barney grinned and nodded. “So you see? All of us are safety officers, even if we aren’t cops. The biggest difference between all of you and me is that I get paid to help people. So I spend all my shifts looking for trouble and stop to help if someone needs me.”
The next photo came up. Again, Barney wore jeans, riding boots, and a ball cap. He was crouched in front of Percy Holden, one of the town drunks, an older man who dressed like a homeless person and spent far too many nights passed out on a sidewalk in town.
“To protect his privacy, I can’t tell you this man’s name. He is one of the town drunks in Mystic Creek. I probably shouldn’t call him a drunk. It’s more appropriate to say that he has a drinking problem or is an alcoholic.” Barney looked out at the kids again. “How many of you know people who drink too much alcohol?”
Way too many hands went up to suit Barney. He hoped those kids weren’t dealing with alcohol abuse at home. But what really broke his heart was to see Sarah raise her hand.
Chapter Twenty-four
It took Barney a moment to collect himself and remember what he’d been saying. Sarah. He knew for a fact that the child had been exposed to far more than mere alcohol abuse, and it sickened him to think that she thought such behaviors were normal.
He glanced at the projector to recall the story he’d been telling. “Anyway, this old fellow spends all his money on booze, and that morning, he asked me for a few dollars to get some food.” Barney shrugged. “You can see in that picture that I’m handing him money. I knew he’d probably spend it on liquor instead of nourishment. But when people are in a jam, I feel an obligation to help if I can. What that man did with the money was up to him. At least I knew that I’d given it to him in case he was really hungry.”
One little boy in the audience shouted, “My dad buys homeless people food and takes it to ’em. That way he knows the money goes for food and nothing else.”
A little girl cried, “My mommy says that we always need to ask ourselves, ‘What would Jesus do?’ So she always gives people at least a dollar!”
Barney remembered that this was a Christian school where the children were taught faith values. He also realized that Taffeta had been right. These kids weren’t bored. They couldn’t wait for the next picture to come up.
When it came, Barney grinned. It was a photo of him, clin
ging to the spindly top of a pine tree with a huge blue boom box high in the air behind him.
“Uh-oh. I’m not at my best in this picture,” he told the kids.
A boy yelled, “How’d you get so high in the tree?”
Barney explained how an equipment operator had lifted him up into the air in the big box. “A little kitten had climbed nearly to the top of the tree. It was my job to go up there to save it for her owner, Mrs. Dominique, who is an old lady and lives all alone. The kitten was all the family she had, and she loved it very much. You can’t really see the kitten yet.” He winked at Sarah. “But I have a feeling you’ll see her in the next few shots.”
The next photo came up, showing Barney with one leg hooked over the edge of the boom box. “It was really icy that night, and the sound of the equipment and seeing me in that big boom box frightened the kitten, making her climb even higher to get beyond my reach. I climbed onto the edge of the box to gain height, holding on to branches to keep my balance. But my boots slipped. In this picture, I’m trying very hard to get back inside the box so I won’t fall.”
The next photograph showed Barney safely back inside the box. The children clapped and cheered.
Barney said, “I don’t remember losing my hat. The branches of the tree must have knocked it off. At this point, I still couldn’t reach that poor kitten. She was wet and shivering. I was afraid she would get so cold that she might die.”
The picture changed. The newspaper photographer had caught the kitten in midair as she jumped from the tree toward Barney. “In this picture, the kitten must have decided the loud noise and big box were a lot less scary than being trapped in the tree was. She jumped at me without warning.”
The next shot showed Barney with a bedraggled kitten clinging to his shirt. “She was so scared when she hit my chest that she dug her claws clear through my shirt.”
“Were you mad at her?” a little girl asked.