“Seven-year-olds think every call we take is an adventure,” Frankie said.
Roman didn’t miss how the rest of the elderly tribe fell in line behind Frankie as if she were some kind of Pied Piper. Despite his irritation and embarrassment, he found himself smiling at Delilah and Penny as they snapped more pictures of him on their way to the SUV.
He pulled himself back into the engine, dragged the door closed and stared straight ahead as if that would give him some peace of mind. Better to leave things in Frankie’s hands, at least where this call was concerned.
It didn’t take very long before Frankie, Kendall and Kurt settled in the driver’s seat and back seats, respectively. “Frankie—”
“Hold that thought.” Frankie held up her hand, reached for the radio and reported in, freeing them up for the next call and closing off this one. She sagged back in the seat, watching in the rearview mirror as the SUV pulled out and headed back to town. “Okay, good to go. You were saying?”
He glanced back at the muted conversation between Kurt and Kendall. “Why didn’t you tell me to shut up and listen to you?”
“You’re my commanding officer.” Frankie started the engine and circled the grocery store parking lot to head back to town. “Because you figured you knew what you were talking about. I may do and think a great many things, Chief, but I follow orders. The chain of command is just that. Command.”
Roman wanted to find fault with that, but he couldn’t. “I suppose I didn’t give you a real chance to explain.”
“No, sir, you didn’t.”
“Are there other secret codes I should be aware of?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is there a list of them somewhere?” he ground out. She was really going to make him beg, wasn’t she?
“No, sir.” She glanced at him, that irritating yet intriguing smile back in place. “But I’ll make you one.”
* * *
“OKAY, JASPER. YOU can cool down now.” Frankie reached across the panel on the treadmill and lowered the incline. Thanksgiving Day or not, daily workouts were mandatory, at least in her mind. She could hear the tail end of the parade blasting from the television in the entertainment room, soon to be replaced by the sound of knocking football helmets and college marching bands. “Another five minutes on the flat and you can collapse.”
“Great.” Jasper sucked in air like a scubadiver in panic mode. “Just in time for my funeral.” Sweat dripped off his scrawny frame, but there was a brightness in his eyes that bolstered her spirits.
Frankie laughed, appreciating his good humor despite her putting him through some serious training paces. “Pretty soon you’ll be outpacing Ozzy over there.” She glanced back at the sheriff’s deputy currently lifting some significant weight. “You need a spotter there, Oz?” Without waiting for an answer, she walked over and helped heft the bar back onto the rack. “You build up any more muscle and the WWE is going to come recruiting.”
Ozzy grimaced. “Nah. Getting pummeled by folding metal chairs isn’t as exciting as hours behind the desk at the station.”
“Luke still have you running tech support?”
“Mostly. I get to patrol a couple times a week. Have to admit.” Ozzy sat up and reached for a towel. “I was really hoping that call yesterday was going to be something more exciting than shuttling the Cocoon Club back home.”
“Remember what I always say, Ozzy,” Frankie said. “Boredom in this job is a blessing. It means everyone is safe.”
“Yeah. I’m just ready to do more, you know?” Ozzy glanced around, lowered his voice. “I keep waiting to be counted on.”
“You are counted on, Ozzy. I count on you. In fact, you can help me with Jasper’s physical training for the next couple of months. You know how busy things get around the holidays, and I might not be around as much.” Especially now that the schedule was all messed up. Going from a twenty-four-hour to a ten-hour shift meant she’d spent endless hours last night staring at the ceiling, and sleep deprivation was never a good thing in this job. She’d pushed back on the changes, but Roman had stood firm. “That okay with you, Jas?”
“He can’t be any harder on me than you are,” Jasper gasped.
“Great.” Frankie returned to the treadmill and slowed it so Jasper could cool down. “We need to get your stamina up. I want you at an eight-minute mile by next week.”
“Eight minutes?” Jasper sucked in a harsh breath.
“Piece of cake.” Ozzy came over and slapped a hand hard on the kid’s shoulder. “When I started working out, I was at a sixteen-minute mile. Miracles happen.”