“She works for my mother,” Wade said.
“As a driver?”
“Driver, caretaker, whatever.”
Nava opened the box to reveal gleaming donuts.Wade grabbed one as they entered the building.They were the first two to arrive, so the office was empty.
“Speaking of your mother, did you know she got a DUI?”
“I heard about it,” Wade said.He took a bite of the donut, which had vanilla icing.
“I’m the one who pulled her over,” Nava said, choosing a donut with sprinkles.“She was well over the legal limit.”
Wade chewed and swallowed, though his taste buds rebelled against the sweetness.
Nava lifted his own donut in the air.“I wanted to give her a break, because she’s having a hard time dealing with the loss of your brother, but she was weaving all over the road.She couldn’t walk a straight line.”
“I understand,” Wade said.“I’m glad she got her license revoked.”
Nava clapped a hand on his shoulder, and that was the end of it.They continued into his office, where the chief sat down.“Jackson will be here in a few minutes.I’m sending him to Lakeside again, because it’s a mess over there.Reports of looting overnight, and family squabbles.”He shook his head.“Disasters bring out the best and the worst in people.We have volunteers coming in from the community like that young lady you brought, showing strong support.We have families who lost everything and are grateful for help.And then we have some bad eggs.Low-level criminals and domestic offenders.People who never had anything, don’t want help, and resent our presence.”
Wade polished off his donut without comment.
“The focus is still on cleanup, but it may shift to community policing.Road crews and recovery teams are clearing debris.”
“Where do you want me?”Wade asked.
“I need you with the Red Cross team.They’re going door to door for wellness checks in damaged areas of Lost Lake.There are a lot of ranches out there, like your mother’s.Remote neighborhoods.Senior citizens, recluses, and gun owners.Stay alert.”
“I always do.”
“You have a service weapon?”
“It’s in a safe in my truck.”
“Carry it,” Nava ordered.Then he rifled around in a drawer and found a set of keys.“There’s a black and white Suburban in the back lot.You can use it as your work vehicle.The uniform package you ordered is on your desk, along with a radio and utility belt.The Red Cross team is leaving at six thirty.”
Wade checked his watch.He had twenty minutes to get ready.
“I have to lead a press conference,” Nava said.He eyed Wade speculatively.“I don’t suppose you have public speaking experience.”
“Very little, sir.”
“You’ve got a good TV face.”
Wade wasn’t prepared to represent the department in front of the media.“It’s my second day on the job.”
Nava waved him away, grumbling under his breath.Wade had never met a cop who liked speaking to the press.Nava might try to delegate the task again in the future.Wade ducked into the office he’d inherited, which was in desperate need of tidying.A brown package sat on top of a cluttered desk.Inside, he found a set of three uniforms.Wade closed the door before he changed into the khaki shirt and dark green pants.He strapped the utility belt around his waist and clipped on the radio.The uniform fit like it should, and he felt comfortable in it.
He retrieved his weapon from his personal vehicle.Then he found the Suburban and inspected the interior.It was clean, if not new.Instead of driving the short distance, he walked across the street to the community center.Several volunteers were unloading boxes from a cargo truck, Mary included.While he watched, she lifted a crate of water bottles and carried it to a nearby table.Her pale, slender arms flexed as she handled the heavy load.She was stronger than she looked.
Wade was stepping forward to offer his assistance when a woman in a red vest approached him.She had a bouncy blond ponytail and a thousand-watt smile.“Deputy Sheriff Hendricks?I’m Stacy Schwinn.”
Wade shook hands with her.
“You’re coming with us on wellness checks?”Stacy asked.
“I am,” he confirmed.
