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No Looking Back, Page 2

Patricia Gauthier


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  Peter hated starting a new job. He knew he’d be stuck at some desk somewhere, expected to pour over policy and procedure manuals until his eyes crossed. Meeting new co-workers and being expected to be polite and cordial when he really felt just the opposite. Pete was not a people person. He was a highly skilled investigator who had paid his dues long ago in New York as a beat cop, working his way up the promotion ladder one rung at a time. Pete had liked living in New York overall. Everyone was a stranger and he liked it that way. A city filled to the brim with people smart enough to mind their own business and keep their distance. What he didn’t like was the high cost of living and the fact that the only way to get promoted now at the NYPD was if someone died or retired. He didn’t want to wait fifteen years for another promotion. That was the only way to move up in New York, by filling someone else’s shoes when they left.

  By moving to Wynott, a growing community that wasn’t so small he’d be bored, he hoped to advance faster without the excessive hours he would have been expected to work in a big city. He had other interests besides police work and he wanted the better balance of work and play a small town could afford him. Plus he wouldn’t have to drive for hours to find a stream to dip his fishing line into or woods to hunt in. He looked forward to the peace and quiet of Wynott, one thing he never liked about the big city was the noise and confusion of the streets. No matter how hard you tried to block the noise, it followed you everywhere and at all times of the day and night, with that combination of exhaust fumes and rotting trash from overflowing dumpsters along with the noise. Blech! He shivered at the thought and took a bite of the huge roll he’d gotten at the bakery. Holy shit! He closed his eyes and savored the flavors bursting inside his mouth. This was, bar none, the best pastry he had ever tasted in his life! He decided he could put up with the chipper attitude from the bakery help for one of these every day. What did the woman at the counter have to be so happy about anyway? He didn’t see the need to inflict her happy little attitude on people that definitely weren’t morning people. It was aggravating and annoying to people like him, but by the time he finished his roll he was in a much better frame of mind. He had to admit she was beautiful even though she was obviously a morning person. She was a beauty even with her hair falling out of the bun on the top of her head. The rich auburn color looked silky, soft and shiny. When she smiled even her eyes twinkled happily. She was tiny but shapely with her ample breasts pulling slightly at the fabric of her shirt. Watching her wait on the previous customer told him she was a spitfire. He liked feisty women, but thinking like that could lead to trouble he didn’t need right now. Women weren’t part of his game plan right now, if ever.

  Pete savored the coffee as he drove to his first day of pure hell, thankful that at least he’d had a good final meal. He parked his car and downed the last sip of coffee for courage, and pressed onto his destiny.

  The greeting he got at the police department was pretty much the same that he’d gotten from the townsfolk at the bakery, complete silence. He introduced himself to the officer at the desk and waited patiently for someone to lead him back to a desk or cubbyhole of some sort. Instead he watched a tall, slim fortyish woman approach him with her hand already extended for a shake.

  “Inspector Jensen? I’m Captain Janet Perkins. Welcome aboard.” She smiled conservatively as she shook his hand firmly but briefly. She seemed stoic and all business, just what he looked for in a supervisor. All business. Good.

  “Please follow me.” Captain Perkins motioned down the hall, holding the door open for Pete to enter.

  The rest of the day went downhill from there. If he thought reading manuals was bad, he soon found out nothing was worse than crossing guard duty. He was sent out to deal with crying, whining, snotty kids being escorted to his corner by overprotective parents who thought their precious little babies could do no wrong. Not once. Not twice. But three times in one day. Give me the policy and procedure manuals anytime over this crummy duty.