Read Online Blue Jeans and a Badge by Nina Bruhns - Free Book Online

who had lured him into the fateful poker game, of which Philip never failed to remind him and pull endless favors from him on account of. He would be eternally grateful to his friend for aiding the hand of fate, but Ted didn’t need to know that.
    â€œHey, buddy, what’s up?” Ted greeted Philip when he called him at his home number. They shot the breeze for a while before he brought up the reason he was calling. After explaining briefly about Clyde Tafota, he relayed the information he needed on the kids.
    â€œDang, man, you say it happened back in 1934?” Ted said. “I don’t know if I can get hold of records that old, especially if it was only something minor with no arrest or anything. But I’ll see what I can do. Call me at the station tomorrow morning.”
    Philip thanked him and hung up. That’s when he noticed Luce had wandered into his office and was checking out thephoto gallery on the wall. His mom had always kept the staircase wall full of pictures of family and special events, and the habit had stuck.
    â€œI didn’t realize your dad is in law enforcement, too,” Luce remarked, looking at an old photo of his father in a khaki uniform. “What branch?”
    Philip frowned. He didn’t really like talking about his father. “He was sheriff of Inyo County for twenty-two years.”
    â€œIn California?”
    â€œYes. But he’s been dead for a long time.”
    Dead but not forgotten. And still running Philip’s life, even from the grave.
    Correction: had been running his life up until a few years ago, if largely unbeknownst to Philip. But no more. Clean-break time. Time to forget the bad and remember only the good—of which, admittedly, there was plenty. To be fair, his dad had no idea Philip would get elected to his job after he died.
    Forgive and forget. Philip was working on it.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she said.
    â€œAncient history.” He waved off her sympathy, and decided to change the subject before it went any further. His messy past was public record, but he didn’t see any reason to bring it up.
    â€œWhat about your dad?” he asked as a diversion. “What does he do for a living?”
    She strolled along the wall, still studying the photos. “He sells cars.”
    The sip of beer he was taking almost went down the wrong pipe. “You’re kidding. I thought sure he was a cop or in the military or something.”
    â€œNope.” She stopped in front of an early O’Donnaugh family portrait, taken when Philip was still a toddler. She reached up to straighten it with a lingering touch to the frame.
    â€œSo, how did a mild-mannered car salesman end up with a penchant for guns and a bounty hunter for a daughter?”
    Turning from the portrait, she took a pull from her own beer. “He likes deer hunting. And I’m adopted.”
    He raised a brow at the casual admission. “Yeah, huh?”
    She crossed her arms over her abdomen. “I was left sitting on a church pew in St. Louis when I was three. The Montgomery’s adopted me a year later.”
    Again he wondered at the calm way she talked about such a traumatic, life-altering event.
    â€œHave you ever tried to find your real parents?” he asked without thinking.
    â€œThe Montgomery’s are my real parents,” she said with a steely determination Philip guessed hid a whole lot of love, but probably a whole lot of hurt, too. So her calmness about the subject was a facade. Knowing you were abandoned couldn’t be easy, regardless of how much your adoptive parents loved you and vice versa.
    â€œReal in every way that matters,” he agreed, kicking himself mentally for being so insensitive. Better get back to business. “So,” he said, “did you find out anything new when you called your boss?”
    â€œNo developments on that end. Tafota is still at large and the clock’s ticking on his bail