Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (books on motivation .txt) 📗

items for her office. Behind the front desk, Barbara sat knitting something out of thick forest-green yarn. She looked up; a smile bloomed on her face as soon as she saw Kimberley. She dropped her needles and stood from her desk.

“Chief Deputy King,” Barb greeted. “I’ve been expecting you.”

Shit. She was hoping they wouldn’t notice she was late. It was only a few minutes. But in this line of work, a few minutes could be the difference between life and death.

“Sorry about that. I got held up at my daughter’s daycare,” Kimberley admitted. “But it won’t happen again,” she quickly added.

“Your secret is safe with me.” Barb pretended to zip her lips, lock them, and throw away an imaginary key. She let out a little giggle as she walked around the desk carrying a couple of binders.

“Come with me,” she said, walking toward the office area.

Unlocking a set of doors and scanning her badge at another set, Barbara led Kimberley back to the desk area. A deputy with a strong jawline and dark brown skin that had almost a peach undertone sat at the far back left desk. He looked up quickly, his features were sharp and his piercing dark eyes met Kimberley’s.

“Deputy Bearfield, have you met Chief Deputy Kimberley King?” Barb asked. Her tone was light and airy.

Bearfield rose from his desk and stepped out from behind it. His long, black and silky hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. He took a couple of large steps, stopping just in front of Kimberley and Barb. His soaring height and broad shoulders contributed to his strong, stern presence. Bearfield slightly lifted his chin and sharpened his eyes in a way that said, “I was here first.” Sam was right, he clearly had a chip on his shoulder, but despite that, there was still something calming to him. Kimberley recalled what Sam had told her about Bearfield—reliable and thorough.

He held out his large hand, looking Kimberley up and down for a moment, sizing her up. Then his dark eyes landed on hers. “I’m Deputy Drew Bearfield. Been on the force for eight years.”

Kimberley shook his hand. There was no point in getting into a pissing contest with him. The best route was just to get him to like working for her, win him over. “I’m Chief Deputy Kimberley King. Been on the force for eight minutes.”

Bearfield tilted his head, the corner of his lip perking up into a half-smile.

“She’s funny,” Barb said with a laugh.

“She is,” Bearfield said. “I hear you came here from the NYPD.”

It was obvious to Kimberley he was trying to determine whether or not she had earned or would earn his respect. But she’d play along.

“That’s right. Ten years in the NYPD, the last seven of them as a homicide detective.”

He brought his hand to his chin, rubbing it for a moment. “Impressive. Why d’you leave then? Chief Deputy of Custer County, Oklahoma, is quite the step-down from an NYPD homicide detective.” Bearfield tilted his head, slightly squinting the black marbles between his lids.

“You’re right, it is a step-down,” Kimberley raised her chin, “but it was a step-up for my daughter.”

The intensity in his eyes melted away. He bit at the inside of his lower lip, seemingly unsure as to what to say to that.

“Well, welcome. As far as cases go, I’m working on paperwork for a DUI and a disorderly conduct. Then I’ll be back out patrolling.” He gave a slight nod.

“Good. I look forward to working with you, Bearfield. It was nice meeting you.” Kimberley sidestepped around him with Barb following behind.

“Hey,” Bearfield called out.

Kimberley turned back.

“I look forward to working with you too,” he said with a small smile.

She had won him over for now. Kimberley gave a small smile back and turned around.

She noticed the lights in Sam’s office were off before entering her own office to the right. On her desk sat a large blueberry muffin and a mug of steaming hot coffee. Barb set the binders beside it and closed the office door behind her.

“Bearfield is a very nice man, not like that jackass Lodge,” Barb said, shaking her head and twisting up her lips.

“So, I’ve heard.”

“Black coffee just the way you like it, and I baked muffins fresh this morning.” Barb motioned to her desk, “There’s more in the break room,” she whispered, as if it were a secret just for Kimberley.

“Thank you, Barb. You didn’t have to do that.” Kimberley was taken aback by how kind this woman was, like a grandma for the sheriff’s station.

She walked around her desk and set her box of stuff down.

“No one has to do anything for anyone else… but where’s the fun in that?” Barb smiled.

Kimberley assumed Barb was the type of woman who had a piece of wisdom for every situation and if it came with coffee and baked goods, she could get used to it. Though the waistline of her clothing might not.

“I’ve stocked your wardrobe with several uniforms, undershirts and shoes.” Barb gestured with her hand toward the closet. “I estimated your size, so let me know if I’m wrong. I’m usually not.” She winked.

Kimberley walked to the wardrobe and opened it, revealing five hanging perfectly pressed sheriff’s uniforms. A utility belt hung on the hook of the door. Handcuffs, a baton, radio, taser, pepper spray and a few other items were sitting inside a box. The bottom shelf had two pairs of black Galls athletic shoes and one pair of tactical boots. Kimberley thumbed through the uniforms, checking the sizes of the tops and pants. She bent down and checked the shoe sizes. Barb was spot on with everything.

She turned and smiled at Barb. “These are perfect.”

“Told ya, I’m rarely wrong,” Barb said.

“I hung that mirror up for you too.” Barb pointed at the long mirror hung on the inside of the left door.

Kimberley caught her reflection in it. She was right about how she thought she looked: tired. Like she hadn’t slept at all. Her long dark