Safe from Harm (Protect & Serve #2)
Kate SeRine
For my dear friend R. G., and all other first responders who have given their lives in the line of duty.
Chapter 1
Deputy Gabe Dawson pulled into the parking lot of Moe’s Diner, habit and finely honed instinct allowing him to take in at a glance the cars parked out front. There were the two guys—mechanics from the adjacent garage—smoking cigarettes at the corner of the building, shooting the shit on their break. And the three construction workers with mud-caked boots just coming out of the diner with their to-go orders in a plain white plastic bag. A businesswoman in a power suit was texting furiously as she hurried down the sidewalk in three-inch heels. And a couple strolled toward their car, gazing at each other with wide smiles on their faces as they held hands.
Moe’s was certainly hopping with activity, the restaurant’s reputation making it one of the most popular lunch spots in the county. The fifties-themed burger joint hadn’t changed much in the decades since it’d started serving up milk shakes to the teenagers who’d come there back in the day to listen to their favorite records on the jukebox and sit knee to knee with their sweethearts, sipping a soda with two straws while they gazed at each other all moony-eyed. It was like something out of a freaking Norman Rockwell painting.
Too bad the neighborhood around the diner had pretty much gone to shit in the last ten years or so. Now, Moe’s was right in the middle of a region with one of the highest crime rates in the entire county. You wouldn’t catch any teenagers in there now unless they were high and looking for some cheap eats to curb the munchies.
These days, the typical clientele mostly consisted of people who worked in the area and couldn’t take one more day of eating at the handful of fast food restaurants or at the pizza place, which, on its third owner in five years, had been on the Board of Health’s shit list more than once. The diner was also known to be one of the favorite lunch spots for law enforcement who patrolled the area.
Bart “Moe” Morrison appreciated having the extra police presence around to deter the criminal elements and riffraff that had driven so many other businesses out over the years. He’d worked damned hard to keep the diner his father had started in 1958 alive and wasn’t about to let his old man down.
Gabe sure as hell could understand that. His own father was Sheriff of Fairfield County, Indiana, as had been his father before him and his father before him…and on down the line. Law enforcement was in the Dawson family’s blood. As Mac Dawson reminded his four sons often, the Dawsons had been the law in the county since before it even was a county, and they had an obligation to carry on the family legacy. But with his dad and grandfather having had long, distinguished careers, Gabe had a lot to live up to.
Which was one of the reasons he requested to be assigned to this particular area as often as possible. He wasn’t going to make a name for himself sitting on his ass in Amish country or dealing with the occasional pissed-off neighbor in the suburbs. He needed to be where the action was, where he could actually make a difference and protect the community.
But even in this section of the county there were uneventful days, and this had promised to be one of them. He knew he should be grateful he hadn’t had to deal with a break-in or a shooting or domestic dispute, but he hadn’t had a single call, which made the day drag on.
Gabe sighed as he pulled into a parking spot and called in to dispatch, letting them know he was going to be out of service for lunch. He was just getting out of his department Tahoe when a squad car for the local police department pulled in a couple of spaces down from his.
“Well, I’d thought this place was going to hell,” Gabe drawled as he sidled up to the driver’s open window, “but now that you’re here, I have proof.”
Officer Chris Andrews laughed as he got out of his car. “Fuck off, Dawson. Let me know when you want to leave the sheriff’s department and come work for a real police force.”
Gabe returned his laugh and extended his hand to his friend. “What the hell are you doing here, Chris? I thought Jessica went into labor yesterday.”
Chris grunted. “Yeah, change of plans.”
“False alarm?”
Chris nodded on a sigh. “Again. I swear, you’d think we’d know the real deal by now.”
Gabe chuckled as they headed into the diner together. “What is this anyway? Kid number fifteen or something?”
Chris rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Three, dumbass.”
Gabe feigned a look of surprise. “Seriously? I thought it had to be more than that. It seems like you two are popping out kids all the time.”