3

The Lord watched out for fools, even damned ones, Garreth reflected. A week after he stewed over it so much, his stuck-out neck not only remained unchopped but here he stood in a suit and tie, carrying copies of the Kansas Criminal Code and Vehicle Code to study, beginning six months probation. Even the physical had gone smoothly, the bloodwork problem solved by catching the lab tech's eyes and intructing her to destroy the samples she took from him, replace them with samples from herself, and forget she had made a substitution.

The chief introduced him to the day office staff, a tiny wisp of a secretary named Nancy Sue Schaefer and a pretty but broad-beamed dispatcher, Geri Weaver. Then Danzig led him over to a slim, dark-haired young woman in uniform at a typewriter. "And this is Margaret Lebekov, our Afternoon officer and expert with juveniles and domestic disputes. Maggie, this is Garreth Mikaelian."

Garreth held out a hand, smiling. "Glad to meet you."

She looked up, stared at his hand, and returned to typing. "Yes."

Garreth examined his fingers for frostbite. Terrific. Six officers in the department and one of them hated him on sight. In a sudden spasm of fear he wondered if she, like Grandma Doyle, sensed his unhumanity.

"When you go on your own you'll be on Nights, from eight, taking over from Lebekov, until four AM," Danzig went on. "That overlaps Toews's and Duncan's shifts. Until your uniforms come and you know the town, though, I want you to ride with Sergeant Toews."

"Yes, sir."

"You'll need a Kansas driver's license. The examiner is in Bellamy on Thursdays. Drive down then and take the test."

"Yes, sir."

A look at the three cells and drunk tank upstairs completed the station tour, by which time Lebekov had left, Toews was coming out of the combination interview/locker room buckling on his equipment belt, and a voice on the radio announced that 102 would shortly be 10-19, coming into the office.

Garreth sucked in a deep breath. Shift change. Despite the vast differences in place, the rhythm of it felt as familiar as the beat of his heart . . . Day Watch coming in—one Lieutenant Byron Kaufmann, a beefy veteran with fading red hair—a briefing for Garreth and Toews that differed only in size from every other Garreth had ever attended; checking equipment and the car; pulling out onto the street. It was like coming home.

Toews eyed Garreth sidelong as they rolled down Oak toward Kansas Avenue. "Have you found your grandmother yet?"

"No." He had made daily trips to surrounding towns, keeping up the cover. Perhaps the time had come that he could quit. "I'm beginning to doubt I will."

"But you still want to stick around here?"

Garreth shrugged. "There's no reason to go back to California."

Toews peered in his outside mirror at a battered pickup which passed them going the other direction. "That gives us two city boys. Danzig used to be on the Wichita P.D."

The radio mumbled sporadically, but little of the traffic had local call numbers. Garreth quickly gathered that all the area law enforcement agencies used the same frequency. The loudest voice kept drawling, "Bellamy S.O.," the sheriff's office.

Toews saw Garreth listening. "That's Lou Pfeifer, the sheriff. He's usually patrolling somewhere in this end of the county so he can look in on his ranch and his wife and daughters."

"206 Baumen," a woman's voice said. "Requesting a 10-28 on local K-king, five-five-three."

Toews shook his head. "That's the fourth registration I've heard Maggie run since we came on. She's on a rip tonight."

"She didn't seem in a very good mood when Danzig introduced me to her at the station," Garreth said.

"Oh." Toews shifted in his seat. He watched a driver slow but roll through a stop sign across the street. He honked the horn as the car came at them, and when he caught the driver's eye, shook his head. "It says stop, Walt," he called. To Garreth he said, "That's because you have the shift she wants."

Garreth winced. "Damn."

"It isn't your fault. Danzig will never give it to her because he doesn't believe in women patrolling at night. Do you ride?"

The change of subject threw Garreth. He blinked. "Ride what?"

Toews's brows rose. "Horses, of course. I have a great little mare out of Skipper W that I use for calf roping. I'll take you by to see her in a little while. What do you do when you're not on duty, then?"

The game of Get Acquainted had begun, a friendly mutual interrogation that they sandwiched between calls . . . an elderly woman whose daughter in Hays had been unable to reach by phone all day proved to be healthy, only working in the yard with her hearing aid turned off . . . a motorcycle stopped for speeding had a driver operating on an expired license . . . checking businesses along Highway 282 at the east edge of town they found the Gfeller Lumber gate unlocked. The search for mutual interests went on while they waited for the owner to come out and lock up.

To Garreth's disappointment, they shared almost nothing in common but law enforcement. Between that and the obvious emnity of Maggie Lebekov, Baumen P.D. did not look quite like home after all. On the other hand, it made a decent bivouac and would keep him busy enough not to brood over the uncertain, perhaps nonexistent future beyond collaring Lane.