We chose to walk to lunch since the police station was on Main Street. A number of restaurants were just a block or two away. We walked in companionable silence, speaking only to agree on the Mexican restaurant, the Lazy Taco.

This was my favorite place to eat in Peacock.

Grayson pulled out a chair for me to sit, and then he sat down across from me. We barely glanced at the menus before we gave our orders to the server. Finally, once all of the distractions were out of the way, he cleared his throat. I knew what was coming, of course.

"Your father was a police officer?" He wasn't wasting any time.

"Yeah. He was on the job for fifteen years when he was killed." I focused on my paper napkin, slowly shredding it into little pieces instead of looking up at Grayson.

"Your dad was Frank Bennett, wasn't he?" His voice was low, but I could hear him clearly despite the noisy restaurant.

"You know his name?" I looked up at him and tilted my head. That was unexpected.

"Sure. There's only been a couple of cops who have died in the line of duty in the last thirty years. There's a plaque hanging in the station with their names on it." Grayson put his hand over my hand as he spoke, halting my paper shredding.

I pulled my hand free.

"Oh. Yeah, his name was Frank Bennett, and he pulled somebody over on a routine traffic stop. Another car was driving by. That driver was drunk, and he hit my dad where he was standing on the side of the road. He didn't stop. My dad never regained consciousness, and he died in the hospital a couple of days later." I went back to shredding my napkin.

I never told this story, so I don't know why I volunteered this information to Grayson.

"That's terrible, Lucy. I'm so sorry. How old were you when this happened?" His voice was calm and soothing.

"I was six." My voice was calm, but my muscles were so tense that I started trembling.

Grayson stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the terracotta tiles. I looked up in surprise. He came around to my side of the table and sat down next to me. He put one strong hand over mine. He wasn't too close, but his presence was comforting, so I started to relax.

"I don't remember much about his death. Nobody really told me many details, of course, because I was too young to comprehend what was going on. What I understood was that my father wasn't ever coming home again." I cleared my throat. Even after all of these years, I still had trouble talking about my dad without tearing up.

Grayson leaned on one elbow. "I can't imagine what that was like for you, losing a parent at such an easy age. And it had to be hard on your mother as well."

I smiled a tired smile. "Well, my mother died when I was six months old. She had a heart condition from birth, and she got the flu one winter. It was too much strain on her heart, so soon after giving birth to me, and she died. My dad and I moved in with my grandmother after her death. And then when my dad was killed, my grandmother just stepped right up, and took over parenting duties."

One of the reasons I didn't like telling my story was because it was so extra sad. People never knew what to say in response to such a pitiful tale, and it got awkward fast. I didn't expect Grayson to be any different.

"That is truly terrible. I'm very sorry for what you had to go through. But at least you had your grandmother, right?" He didn’t seem uncomfortable with my story. Sympathetic, yes, but not uncomfortable.

He had managed to surprise me again. "Yes, my grandmother is wonderful. She did everything she could to give me a happy childhood, and I'm still very close to her."

Our food arrived at that moment. Grayson didn't move away, and it seemed natural to eat side- by-side.

Out of the corner of my eye, I witnessed Grayson using his fork to separate his food.

Curious, I looked at him. "You don't like your food touching?"

"Nope." He finished dividing his food into sections. "Everything in its place."

I snorted, and he looked up. "You think that's funny?"

"Yeah, a little bit. You made fun of my list making but look at you. You have your own quirks. Admit it." I laughed and started eating my lunch.

"A little food separation is good. Makes it taste better." His tone was grumpy.

"That's more than a little separation. You are practically building a border wall on your plate." I giggled.

His smirk was back, so I knew he wasn't offended.

After a few bites, Grayson spoke again. "So you don't date cops because?" He paused and looked over at me.

"Because it's a dangerous job, and you can't control what might happen to you. My dad was a highly decorated police officer. He had all the training, and he wasn't reckless. It didn't stop him from getting killed."

"Anybody can die at any time." He smiled to soften his words. "Someone could come in this restaurant and start shooting. We can't control all the variables in life."

"I like control. That's why I make my lists. You need a plan to get through life. It's important." I wasn't backing down from this point. I knew he liked to make fun of my lists, but they served a purpose.

"I like control, too. One of these days I intend to show you just how much I like control." His voice had deepened again.

Speechless, I stared at him. Did he mean what I thought he meant? He laughed and dapped at a little cheese dip in the corner of my mouth.

"In the meanwhile, let me say this. I like to have a plan, too. If someone came in here shooting, I would shoot right back. I spend a lot of time at the range improving my shooting skills because I know how important it is to be prepared." He shifted in his seat. "And it's for that very reason that I never sit with my back to the door in any public place."

"What? Really?" I raised my eyebrows at him in surprise.

"Yes, really. Some might think that's paranoid. I think that's being prepared. And even when I am not in uniform, I carry my gun." He took another bite, chewed, and then continued. "So you don't have to worry. While I can't control every little thing that might happen to me, just like your dad, I am very vigilant and concerned about my safety."

Confused, I wasn't sure what to say, so I concentrated on my quesadilla for the moment. Finally, I turned to him. "I still don't want to date a cop. I'm glad you are careful with your safety, but I would never be comfortable dating someone who lived that life."

Grayson shrugged. I was a little disappointed he was giving up that easily. Stop it, Lucy. You don't date cops. This was just how it had to be.

"So who else don't you date? Are firemen on that list?" He smirked.

"Yes, firemen have dangerous jobs." I was matter of fact with my reply. I knew he was baiting me.

"What about race car drivers?" His eyes were laughing at me.

"I don't know any race car drivers, but no, I don't suppose I would date them, either." I was starting to get irritated, and I embraced the feeling. It was good to be back on solid footing with him. "There's not a list of occupations that I don't date. I just know certain careers are a no go for me."

"Hmm. I figured you would have a list. You like lists." He grinned at me.

"Okay, now you are just laughing at me." Despite my accusation, I wasn’t truly bothered by his attitude.

"Maybe a little."

"Maybe a lot."

His eyes twinkled at me, and I found myself smiling back at him.

***

AFTER LUNCH WAS OVER, which he insisted on paying for, we walked back to the police station together. Grayson went off to his office to finish his paperwork, and I knocked on the Chief's door.

"Chief Kane? I'm Lucy Bennett. Dr. Somerville sent me over to talk to you about doing some ride alongs with your police officers." I stepped in the doorway as I spoke.

The Chief stood up and shook my hand in his meaty grasp. He was a big man with a ruddy face and salt and pepper hair. He was fit despite his large frame, and he carried himself with authority. I liked him at once.

"Lucy, I'm so glad you stopped by. I know you don't remember me, but I worked with your father years ago. I think the last time I saw you, you were a tiny little thing." He had a big, booming voice that I remembered well.

I laughed. "I wondered if you would remember me. You used to give me those mini candy bars when my dad wasn't looking. I could never forget that."

"Dr. Somerville said you were his first choice for this project, so I'm glad you decided to do it. I think together we can do our little department some good."

"I certainly hope so. What do I need to know?" I pulled out my pen and notebook and sat down across from his big, scarred desk.

"I have a few forms for you to fill out." He rustled through a pile of papers on his desk until he found what he was looking for. "I need you sign this waiver of liability, and give me your driver's license. We have to copy it, and check you for warrants."

My surprise must have shown on my face.

"It's amazing how many people walk into a police station for one reason or another and then turn out to have warrants. I'm sure you will be fine, but our insurance company makes us check." He smiled so widely I saw all his teeth.

Laughing, I handed over my license for the second time that day. He slapped it down on a small copier next to his desk, made the copy, and then handed it back to me.

"Make sure you dress comfortably, but no shorts or any t-shirts with graphics on them. Think jeans and plain shirts."

"Got it." I busied myself filling out forms while he talked.

"You will be required to wear a bulletproof vest at all times. Can't be too careful with your safety." Chief was matter of fact as he delivered this statement.

"Okay." I squirmed a little, thinking about the implications of that.

"Don't worry. You will be perfectly safe. I'm going to put you with one of my best officers, but again, our insurance company has certain requirements." He rummaged around in a wooden cabinet for a moment.

He handed me a heavy blue vest, and I draped it over my arm.

"Don't eat unless your police officer is eating, and don't touch anything in the patrol car. If the officer is listening to dispatch, try to be quiet and let him do his job. I know you'll have lots of questions for him, but be aware you can be interrupted by a call at any moment." Chief smiled at me.

I nodded. I expected as much.

"And remember you are going to see people on their worst day. People don't like to be pulled over, and they certainly don't like to be arrested. These may be people you know since this isn't a big community. Try to be respectful." He typed a few lines into his laptop, looking at the copy of my license.

"Okay, I understand." I signed my name and handed the paperwork back to him.

"That's it. Let's go meet the police officer you will be working with." He led the way out of his office, and straight to Grayson's cubicle.

"Jackson, I have somebody for you to meet." Chief Kane stepped back so I could enter in front of him.

Grayson stood up and smirked at me. "Let me guess. Lucy is my ride along."

Seriously?