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Chase had the good decency to blush, then cleared his throat.“What can you tell us about my grandpa, Macey? I’ve been trying to locate him but he seems to have vanished from the face of the earth.”

“Your grandpa, huh? Well, to be honest, I haven’t seen him in days. I think he came in last week, but he hasn’t been in since.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“Nope. I just figured he was busy doing other stuff and he’d be back.”

“Did he… look different?”

Macey frowned.“Well, now that you mention it, he did seem pretty downcast last time I saw him. He wasn’t his usual cheerful self. Well, you know your grandfather. Always a joke and a kind word. But that last time he was here he was unusually quiet. He also left pretty quick. Didn’t stay to help with the cleanup like he usually does.” Her face had taken on a worried expression. “Do you think something happened to him?”

“I don’t know, Macey, but I’m starting to think something might have.” He told her about the well-dressed man his grandpa was seen arguing with, and the fact that he didn’t respond to his messages.

“Oh, dear,” said Macey, raising a hand to her cheek. “I do hope you find him, Chase. And that you find him just fine. He’s such a wonderful man, and he’s done so much for this community. I would hate for him to be in trouble and not reaching out when he needs help himself.”

“Yeah, that would be just like Granddad.”

Macey nodded, and fixed Chase with a keen look.“Sounds like someone else I know.”

When we were walking back to the car, I asked,“What did Macey mean by that?”

He shrugged.“Beats me.”

“She sounded like she was talking about you. Have you ever been in trouble and refused to reach out and ask for help?”

“That may have been me,” he admitted. “But that was before I met a certain stubborn female, who, in spite of my obvious refusal to ask for help, insisted on offering it anyway.”

I smiled at that. When we first met, Chase had been a different person. Obstinate, surly, standoffish and generally insistent on doing everything his own way without any help from anyone, least of all some nosy reporter like me. How much things had changed since then.

“Sounds like this move to Hampton Cove has done you some good.”

“Yes, it has,” he admitted, and placed an arm around my shoulder. And as we passed another Santa, this one not inebriated but also armed with a very large bell and happy to use it, I was starting to think this little field trip to New York might offer a glimpse at a side of Chase I didn’t know. A chance to get to know the burly cop just a little bit better.

Chapter 8

The police station where Chase took us next was exactly the way I’d imagined it: a bustling hubbub of noise and activity, where police officers worked at their desks while others interviewed civilians as they came in to file complaints, testify to crimes witnessed, or generally tried to make sure that wrongs were righted by New York’s finest. I could just imagine Chase in action, and the moment we entered, it was obvious he was in his element, as he waved greetings at various former colleagues, and bumped fists with uniformed officers and received hugs from more than a few of them. It was as if the long-lost son had finally returned home, and they were all happy to see him.

They also darted curious glances at me, probably wondering if I was one of them, or, more likely, a suspect Chase had dragged in here to be processed and locked up.

I followed Chase to a desk at the end of the large space, and a woman looked up from her computer.“Kingsley! Imagine seeing you here!”

“Hey, Borrell. Long time no see, huh?”

The woman rose from behind her desk and enveloped Chase in a warm hug. She was a slim and pretty young woman, with olive skin and pitch-black braided hair. She was also busty, or at least a lot more busty than me, and I had to admit to experiencing a pang of jealousy as I watched the two former colleagues exchange an obviously heartfelt embrace. Former colleagues or… former lovers?

The woman’s dark brown eyes turned to me, and she asked, “Is this my replacement?”

They ended their embrace and Chase said,“This is Odelia Poole. She’s a reporter and civilian consultant. Odelia, meet Sally Borrell. My partner back when I was with the NYPD.”

“A reporter, huh? I seem to remember you hated reporters. Called them scum of the earth.”

“Not scum of the earth, exactly,” said Chase with a smile.

“Oh, no, that’s right. You called them spume. That dirty foamy stuff that floats on top of the waves. The stuff that makes you afraid to go into the water and get all dirty and yucky.”

“Yeah, I might have been talking about a different kind of reporter,” Chase said. “The kind that works for one of the tabloids, not the Hampton Cove Gazette, which is a reputable paper.”

“So you’re the exception to the rule, huh?” asked Sally, folding her arms across her chest. “The small-town reporter who managed to turn Chase Kingsley’s head.”

“For your information,” I said, also crossing my arms, “I didn’t turn anyone’s head.”