Annie's Neighborhood (Harlequin Heartwarming) (4 page)

“I, uh, phoned my supervisor in L.A. and tendered my resignation. I sublet my condo to a coworker who’s going to ship my clothing and personal items like photo albums, CDs, books...and a special quilt Gran made... Oh, you don’t care about that.”

Sky straightened. “Pardon me for calling you a bit foolish, but the job market here is one of the most depressed in the nation. Plus, I would’ve thought a break-in might have convinced you about the sorry state of this town’s general safety.”

Annie tapped the map with a forefinger. “Don’t you think it can be safe again? Do you know Briar Run was built before urban planning became a viable field? But it’s laid out beautifully in a series of spokes around the town center. It was probably designed as a bedroom community for Louisville to accommodate the growth that was expected because of the Kentucky Derby.”

“A bad calculation, since it was based on a once-a-year horse race,” Sky muttered. “Thoroughbred horse owners, the folks with money, live on high-value real estate situated well outside the city. Not only is horse racing a sport that relies on transient labor, anyplace with big-dollar betting attracts criminals.”

“You
are
cynical,” Annie said. “I wish you’d seen this neighborhood the way I remember it, the way it was when I was growing up here. People took pride in their homes and yards, and they derived joy from socializing with neighbors.” She moved the pitcher of lemonade and traced an area on the map. “There used to be manufacturing along our section of the Ohio River. Gran Ida worked for most of her life at one of the major lingerie-makers in the South. The owners sold the plant to a glove factory, which retooled and produced cotton and leather work gloves for export.”

“And now they’re gone,” Sky said quietly.

“I know, but the building isn’t. And a good-sized city park is a buffer between it and a residential area. South of the park are elementary, middle and high schools. When I was a kid, we all walked to school with friends. Briar Run was a great family town.”

“Manufacturing here is defunct.” Sky shrugged. “The park you remember so fondly has become a haven for drug pushers prowling for kids whose parents can’t afford to drive them to school. I recommend you take another look at it—but in daylight. My force is too small to patrol everywhere 24/7. I figured your neighbors might’ve told you that lots of good people who used to live here have moved away. Take my lieutenant. You met Koot Talmage earlier. Koot and his wife, Sadie, moved to a safer town when their third kid was still in elementary. Sadie used to teach at the local high school. Now there’s a forty percent dropout rate between middle grade and high school. Half the kids who do go on never graduate.”

“Well, shame on them. And shame on all of you. People in positions of authority who shirk responsibility for whatever reason feed problems like the ones that exist here. If no one fights back, soon it won’t be safe to live anywhere.”

“Oh, right,” he said, springing up. “I guess you’ve swept in from California and diagnosed all our problems.”

“I don’t know what you have against California or Californians, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see that one major problem here is apathy. On the part of residents, business owners and public servants like you and your lieutenant. You’re like rats jumping off a sinking ship—you’ve written off this town. So has your city manager, who gave me the same song and dance the other day when I stopped in to ask if it was okay to hold a public meeting.”

Sky set his now-empty glass down on the section of map that outlined the park. “Those of us who work in the trenches aren’t apathetic, we’re realistic.
That’s
what we are.”

“You’re insinuating I’m not?”

“Look, all I know is that I’m doing my best to keep ahead of crime with a force that’s been slashed twice this past year.”

Annie got up, too, moved his glass and folded the map. “Fair enough. I understand that much of the bad stuff happening here is directed by criminals living outside Briar Run.”

“At least we agree on that.”

“Sort of.” She opened a small leather notebook. “I informally surveyed a few residents. I believe their spirits can be improved by something as simple as home facelifts, like the one I’ve begun. Fresh paint. Maybe new drapes. Some rosebushes and weeded yards. Those things take sweat equity.”

“And money. Paint isn’t free. That kind of cosmetic change won’t break the stranglehold gangs have on local teens. If you want to do something meaningful, get me the names of the gang leaders.”

Annie refilled their glasses as they faced off across the table. “Maybe the gang leaders will give up and move on if we create the kind of community where families want to live. Pleasant surroundings restore hope. Hope creates far-reaching results.”

“Perhaps that’s true in prosperous neighborhoods.” Sky drained his second glass. “Did any of the residents you talked to tell you how many hours a day they spend riding buses to Louisville and back to work minimum-wage jobs that barely put food on their tables? And those are the privileged few who actually found new jobs.”

“I haven’t totally gained their trust yet,” Annie admitted. “But I plan to. I’ll book a room at the library, and after setting a time and date, I’ll distribute flyers inviting everyone to a meeting. Then I’ll lay out my ideas in greater detail.”

“Good luck.” Sky handed her his glass. “Thanks for the drink. I need to get back to the job I’m being paid to do.”

“I’d hoped I could enlist your support.”

He clattered down the steps and strode along the walkway without so much as a backward glance.

Annie was fairly sure he’d heard her. She sighed as she collected the pitcher, glasses and her notebook, and carried them into the house.
What if Skylar Cordova was right? What if she and Gran Ida were wrong about her ability to help revitalize this neighborhood
?

* * *

S
KY
WENT
BACK
to the office. He called the pawnbroker to let him know he’d found the owner of the silverware. Afterward, he made up the work schedule for the following week. Aaron Loomis, the city manager, wouldn’t let him authorize any overtime for his staff, which meant Sky had to take up the slack if any of his men needed a day off. When he posted the shifts to his calendar, he saw he had a dinner at Koot and Sadie’s tonight. That was good. His pantry was bare, plus Sadie was a great cook. With nice weather, maybe they’d have a barbecue. And if the Talmage sons were there, the four guys could shoot hoops for a while. Sky could use a workout.

He’d just shut down his computer when the dispatcher notified him that a call had come in from a drugstore—a possible domestic dispute in their parking lot. Those had the potential of being especially difficult—and dangerous. Heading out, Sky called Teddy Saunders, his youngest officer, as backup. At six-three, two hundred and eighty pounds, Saunders often just had to show up and perpetrators got scared enough to beg for mercy.

Sky arrived at the altercation first and encountered a couple he’d been called out on before. Roger McBride reportedly had a problem with alcohol, and his wife, Loretta, had a problem with the amount of money Roger wasted on liquor. In the past there hadn’t been any violence, so Sky canceled his call for backup.

Parking his cruiser a safe distance away from the arguing pair, Sky walked toward them and deduced that their spat was the same old thing. Loretta was outside Roger’s car shouting at her husband, who sat behind the wheel.

“Loretta,” Sky said evenly. “Roger.” Sky nodded at the man. “Is Roger too drunk to drive?” That question he aimed at the woman.

“Not yet, but I just went to the bank with my pay and checked to see that his unemployment funds had come into our account. Who did I pass as I left the bank but this lazy bum on his way to spend money we don’t have on Irish whiskey.”

Roger glanced away, but not before Sky saw his unshaven jaw tense. “I only bought a pint,” the man said. “Chief, don’t I have the right to
some
of the money from my unemployment? This week I filled out four new job applications. I quit going to the tavern. Since Loretta got on me, for not doing anything around the house, I’ve taken over all the chores. No matter what I do, she wants more. It’s humiliating enough for a guy like me to let my wife be the family breadwinner.”

Sky pinched the bridge of his nose. Man, where was the curb-appeal fairy who thought she could set local folks’ world right with curtains and paint? He’d love to hear Annie Emerson’s solution for this.

“Loretta,
is
Roger doing better?”

“I suppose.” She plucked at the collar of her blouse with a work-roughened hand. Sky knew the couple was in their late fifties. Loretta worked at a fast-food restaurant. Roger used to be a production manager at the glove factory. Sky had heard the same kind of hard-luck story from a host of others in town.

“You’re the one I’d have to charge with disorderly conduct today,” he told Loretta.

“Don’t do that,” Roger broke in. “All she’s guilty of is trying to pound some sense into my stubborn head. I’ll return the pint.” He grabbed the sack and got out of the car.

Sky and Loretta watched him jog back into the store. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have made a scene, but my boss said today they may have to cut everybody’s hours. I saw Rog headed for the store to get booze, and something snapped.”

“It’s okay. No harm done. I’m sorry life’s so rough. If I hear of any work I think Roger can do, I’ll call.”

“Come by the house,” she said meekly. “We had to let them shut our phone off.”

“I’m sorry.” Sky caught himself saying that a lot lately. The more trouble that was heaped on the heads of people in his jurisdiction, the more painkillers he took. He climbed into this car to scribble out an incident report and dug out a bottle he kept in the glove compartment, then shook out two pills and swallowed them dry. He hadn’t quite finished his report when a call came in from the principal at the middle school. A fifth grader had been found with marijuana in his book bag.

Sky left the convenience store and drove four blocks to the school. He remembered getting in trouble once for taking a garden snake to school. It wasn’t just that he’d taken the snake to class, but he’d put it in Julie Clark’s backpack. Sky couldn’t fathom what kind of mischief kids would be up to by the time his five-year-old son reached middle school. He hoped he’d have some say in guiding Zack through those awkward years. He wouldn’t if it was up to Corrine.

During the school year so far, Sky had sat down with this principal more often than either of them would’ve liked. “I don’t know what to tell you, Chief Cordova,” Mrs. Beckerman said. “Billy Joe Wright swears he was set up.”

Sky watched the scared kid who sat in the principal’s waiting room. He was fair-haired and well-dressed. He didn’t have on the oversize, low-slung jeans that seemed to be the gangbanger dress code. “What are his grades like? Have they slipped lately?” Sky asked.

The principal accessed the boy’s record on her computer. “He’s a surprisingly good student. I hate to admit it, but that’s why I know so little about him. It’s terrible that my days are spent getting to know all the children at the opposite end of the academic spectrum.” She handed Sky the plastic Baggie filled with leaves. “But there is the fact that this fell out of his book bag in algebra class.”

Sky opened a corner of the bag, sniffed, then made a wry face before sealing it again. “Potent weed,” he said, coughing. “It’s worth some bucks. Could be someone’s bullying him, or else somebody’s been coerced by a dealer up the chain to try and get him involved.”

The principal closed the boy’s record. “I’ll talk to his mother. He said his dad’s out of town on business. That could mean anything. It may mean he’s in jail. If our counselor can handle one more case, I’ll refer him and I’ll sign a release for you to confiscate the bag. For now I’m inclined to give Billy a pass, but I’ll try to keep him under surveillance.”

All too familiar with the drill from past confiscations, Sky had come prepared with a notebook of release forms. Extracting one, he set it on her desk, and she signed it with a flourish.

Borrowing her stapler, Sky stapled the bag to the form. Mrs. Beckerman photocopied it, bag and all. “I hope I don’t have to call you in again before school lets out for the summer. Not that I envy you having so many potential delinquents turned loose on the community for three months. I should warn you, the district cut all summer programs.”

“Gr...eat.” He sighed heavily. “Don’t they realize it leaves the schools at risk for vandalism?”

She shrugged. “They claim they’ve wrung every possible penny out of the budget just to hire teachers for enough hours so our seniors can graduate.”

“Thanks for the heads-up, Mrs. Beckerman. I’ll see if I can arrange our schedules to include driving by the three schools several times a day.”

“Do that. I’ll pray for an angel to swoop down and keep our facilities protected.”

Sky took his leave, fearing it was going to be a long summer. The news about no summer school felt like one more nail driven into the coffin of this dying town.

* * *

L
ATER
,
AFTER
HE
wound up his day, he went home, showered and changed out of his uniform before traveling eight miles to the town where Koot lived. Sky stopped at a flower shop and bought a potted plant as a hostess gift for Sadie Talmage. He knew she liked flowers. Continuing into the residential district, Sky couldn’t help comparing these clean streets, well-tended lawns and inviting homes with those in his run-down community. He’d been to the Talmage home several times, but it struck him now that if he hadn’t had a touchy encounter with Annie Emerson today, he wouldn’t be making comparisons.

The safety of residents in his town was his first concern, not how the houses looked to passersby. Yet, Koot, a thirty-year veteran cop, had moved his family because he deemed this town far safer than Briar Run.

When Sky was hired as police chief, the city had a rule stating that its employees, especially police and fire, had to reside within city limits. Sky wasn’t sure if they’d relaxed the rules for Koot, who was a fixture on the force and due to retire soon, or if the city manager wasn’t aware he’d moved.