“You’ve heard about the bakery?”
I don’t mean to cock my head to the side in a snotty expression, but I do. “Really? Yes. It’s Pelican Bay. Everyonehas heard about the bakery.” I wasn’t in town when everything went down, but they reported it in the paper. We all know.
Spencer laughs. “Well, it’s not all like that. I have experience in surveillance. I really do spend most my time installing cameras and watching feeds. I practically lived the first few months in the surveillance room, watching various cameras we have set up for customers. It was only recently I started working with the regular crew."
Does he think that answers anything? There are a hundred thousand other questions I want to ask but ultimately stick to the important ones. "When did you meet Ridge?" I grew up in Pelican Bay. I've known Ridge and his family for years. Spencer is not from this area.
"I transferred into his team the last two years of my service. He left a few years before I did, but about three months after I left, Ridge stopped by and offered me a job in Pelican Bay. He made big promises of a nice, quiet military retirement."
I laugh.
"I know. We’re not allowed to talk about cases, but Pelican Bay has been anything but quiet since I arrived."
Don't I know it. The hospital has seen more people brought in by one of Ridge’s employees over the last two years than since I graduated college.
"The hospital has never seen so much excitement."
"I thought you worked in pediatrics?" he asks.
Spencer must not come from a small town.
"Yeah, but in Pelican Bay, news travels up the elevators fast. What I don’t hear at work, I learn from the phone tree later.”
He shakes his head. "Do I want to know what a phone tree is?"
"No."
Pelican Bay has seen an influx of young people over the last two years. Pierce and his developments have worked to draw in a younger crowd. It leaves the shop owners happy but the older, long-term residents pissed. While new growth has increased on the outside portion of town, those of us who live in Pelican Bay proper are stuck somewhere between 1975 and 1985. Cell phone service is shaky at best, and any news the paper won’t print, we learn from the seven-p.m. phone call each night.
Frankie barks from the backyard, and Spencer opens my sliding glass door to let her inside. "She sure does love having your fenced-in backyard to run around in."
"She does. Feel free to bring her over whenever you want and let her run. Maybe the extra activity will wear her out so she doesn’t get in so much trouble."
There's a loud rustle followed by a bark from my kitchen as Frankie sticks her nose in the trash can, intending to knock it over.
"Or it could make her extra hungry."
"Frankie!" Spencer yells. "You cannot make a mess in Joslin's house." He continues to shout at Frankie like only a father could.
I settle our dirty plates in the sink. "Don't worry about it."
Spencer bends over and uses his bare hand to push the garbage back into the can. "I've got to find her an obedience class somewhere."
Frankie picks a spot on the floor next to me and sits down, looking as innocent as ever. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe she was one who knocked over the trash.
“I’d planned to ask you if you wanted to watch another movie tonight—something without dead dogs—but I worry if we stay longer, we’ll wear out our welcome.”
I laugh and cast a look at the microwave. The digital readout shows a few minutes past nine. My five-a.m. wake-up call will come bright and early. For some reason, women don’t wait to have their children between the convenient hours of nine and five. “I have to work tomorrow morning.”
“What time is it?” Spencer’s eyes find the same time readout I did. “Oh shit. It’s after nine. Where did the day go?”
Wheredidthe day go? It feels like he picked me up for our date a few short hours ago, but before I realized it, we’ve spent the entire day together.
“I didn’t mean to stay so long. I hope I haven’t kept you from anything important.”
Like there can be anything as important as getting the opportunity to stare at him all day long.
“Nope. Nothing planned except a lot of sitting around.” I twist my fingers around each other behind my back.
