Lance was just putting the plastic panel back over the seatbelt housing when Natalie's red sports car drove up. He wadded up the old seatbelt and tossed it into the plastic bag before going to greet her. He couldn't help noticing how tired she seemed. Granted, she'd been through hell since getting to Asheville: finding her perv dead, the little girl going missing, getting killed, discovering her true nature, finding Sarah. It was enough to make anyone temporarily nutters. "Feeling any better?" Lance asked, pulling her in for a warm hug.
"Some," Natalie replied. "Sarah's parents finally made it."
"That's good," he answered. "Where's she now?"
"Hospital," she said bluntly. "Dr. Brown wanted her taken in for observation for a couple of days. They need to make sure there aren't any long-term physical problems."
He nodded, still unable to believe how one man could be so cruel to an innocent little girl.
"Told AJ about quitting."
"What'd he say?"
"That he understood and that if I ever wanted it, he might put me on the force here."
Lance couldn't hide a grin. "We did pretty good. Maybe it's time I took on a partner."
"I told him I'd think about it," Natalie said pointedly.
"Right," he replied. "Look, I've got dinner on the stove if you're hungry."
Natalie nodded. "You're right. We need to talk."
Lance sighed and escorted her up the front walk and into the house. The cozy scent of spaghetti sauce set warming on the stove greeted them as they walked in to the Craftsman-style bungalow. He quickly gave her a tour of the downstairs, ending in the kitchen.
"And you did all this yourself?" Natalie asked, surprised. "On a cop's salary?"
"Spent five years on it," Lance answered, tasting the sauce. "Saved a lot on labor doing most of the work on my own. It's a great cure for insomnia. Whenever I can't sleep, I just pick up a hammer and get to work."
Natalie shook her head. "Not on a cop's salary. You're two thousand years old. You couldn't have lived that long without amassing a small fortune."
Lance tapped his nose in the old Charades gesture.
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jurisimmortalis's journal
"Feeling any better?" Lance asked, pulling her in for a warm hug.
"Some," Natalie replied. "Sarah's parents finally made it."
"That's good," he answered. "Where's she now?"
"Hospital," she said bluntly. "Dr. Brown wanted her taken in for observation for a couple of days. They need to make sure there aren't any long-term physical problems."
He nodded, still unable to believe how one man could be so cruel to an innocent little girl.
"Told AJ about quitting."
"What'd he say?"
"That he understood and that if I ever wanted it, he might put me on the force here."
Lance couldn't hide a grin. "We did pretty good. Maybe it's time I took on a partner."
"I told him I'd think about it," Natalie said pointedly.
"Right," he replied. "Look, I've got dinner on the stove if you're hungry."
Natalie nodded. "You're right. We need to talk."
Lance sighed and escorted her up the front walk and into the house. The cozy scent of spaghetti sauce set warming on the stove greeted them as they walked in to the Craftsman-style bungalow. He quickly gave her a tour of the downstairs, ending in the kitchen.
"And you did all this yourself?" Natalie asked, surprised. "On a cop's salary?"
"Spent five years on it," Lance answered, tasting the sauce. "Saved a lot on labor doing most of the work on my own. It's a great cure for insomnia. Whenever I can't sleep, I just pick up a hammer and get to work."
Natalie shook her head. "Not on a cop's salary. You're two thousand years old. You couldn't have lived that long without amassing a small fortune."
Lance tapped his nose in the old Charades gesture.