Read Online Covet by Tracey Garvis Graves - Free Book Online

the officers. “Explain how bad the speeding is? Maybe they could bump us up a few spots on the list.”
    “Maybe,” I say. “It can’t hurt to ask.”
    I follow Elisa over to where they’re standing, and they stop talking as we approach. The dark-haired one smiles; he’s definitely the officer who pulled me over.
    Elisa thrusts her hand out. “Hi. I’m Elisa Sager.”
    He shakes it. “Daniel Rush.”
    Elisa introduces me. “This is my neighbor Claire Canton.”
    I shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
    The officer standing with Daniel looks near retirement age, with nondescript features and strawberry-blond hair that’s thinning all over. Freckles—or maybe they’re age spots—dot his skin. “This is Officer Eric Spinner,” Daniel says.
    “It’s a pleasure,” he says, shaking our hands. The sound of shouting reaches us and both officers look toward a group of rowdy teenage boys. Two of them are trading insults and their language is enough to make me wince. Daniel pauses, listening, and takes a step forward. “I’ve got it,” Officer Spinner says, and I watch as he walks toward them.
    “You probably don’t remember me, but you pulled me over for a burned-out taillight about a month ago,” I say.
    He nods. “I do remember you. Did you get it taken care of?”
    “Yes.”
    Smiling at me, he says, “Good.”
    “We had a question we were wondering if you could answer.”
    “Sure,” he says. “What is it?”
    “We live in Rockland Hills and the speed limit on our street is virtually ignored. I called and we’re on the waiting list to get a speed limit sign. Do you know how long it usually takes?”
    “How long have you been waiting?” he asks.
    “Not long,” I admit. “Maybe two weeks? I’m just curious about how long it usually takes.”
    “It depends,” he says. He opens the door of the police car, leans in, and emerges with a business card and a pen. “What’s your address? I’ll see what I can do.”
    “Really? That would be great. Thank you.” I give him my address and after he writes it down he slips the card into his pocket.
    “No problem,” he says. He scans the crowd, his eyes roaming left to right, but his body language seems relaxed as he leans back against the car.
    Elisa’s phone rings and she pulls it out of her pocket. “It’s Skip. I’ll be right back,” she says, walking away to take the call.
    Now it’s just the two of us. Feeling awkward, I start to say good-bye at the same time that he says, “Are you from around here?”
    “Yes,” I say. “What about you?”
    “Overland Park.”
    “Shawnee Mission district?”
    He nods. “I went to West.”
    “I went to East.”
    “When did you graduate?”
    “Ninety-four,” I say.
    “I was ninety-one.”
    That makes him thirty-seven. There’s another awkward lull. Neither of us say anything but when he smiles and looks at me, all the nerve endings in my body start vibrating, as if he can generate an electric current by virtue of his expression and his proximity. Strange, because until now I’ve never been one to swoon over a man in uniform. My feet move, seemingly of their own volition, and I take two steps toward him.
    “I like your hat,” he says.
    “Thanks.” I realize I’m staring and finally break eye contact. “Do you like working the parade?” I ask. Maybe this is a welcome change from his usual police responsibilities.
    “Sure. It’s fairly tame. Later is when it gets ugly,” he says. “Holidays and hot weather bring out the worst in people. Lots of alcohol abuse. We’ll see a spike in domestic assaults.”
    “That’s horrible,” I say, thinking of the fights that will break out later and the fact that there will be children in many of those households. The sound of the marching band draws nearer. “I hope I’m not in your way,” I say to Daniel, embarrassed that maybe I’m keeping him from doing his job.
    He smiles and shakes his head. “You’re not.”
    Elisa returns. “Skip