Donut A Day Read online




  Copyright

  ISBN 1-58660-865-7

  Copyright © 2003 by Gail Sattler. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Truly Yours, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.

  Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.

  All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved.

  All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.

  One

  Matt pulled the squad car into the parking lot of Donnie’s Donuts. He punched a ten-seven into the mobile computer and typed the address to tell the dispatcher his location. He shut off the car and, out of habit, exited quickly.

  While Ty pulled up beside him and followed the same procedure, Matt clicked his portable radio to make sure it was on. “How much time do you think we’ll get tonight?” he mumbled as Ty got out of his squad car.

  Ty checked his wristwatch and his own portable radio. “Don’t know. I’ve needed this break for hours.”

  Matt let out a long sigh. “Me too,” he muttered.

  After two motor vehicle accidents, one with a fatality, he’d arrived too late at a robbery to do any more than ask questions. Next, he’d been called to break up a rowdy party, even though he knew everything would resume within minutes after he left. He looked down at the Royal Canadian Mounted Police logo on his car door. Someone had hit his car with an egg while he was at the door of the house.

  His last call, a domestic, had been the most difficult. When he and the other officer arrived, the woman, her nose still bleeding and tears streaming down her bruised face, claimed she fell. She wouldn’t press charges. As he made his report on any domestic, he always took a few minutes to pray for the people involved. He knew he was supposed to distance himself, but sometimes he couldn’t. At least this time he had arrived before one of the people involved required hospitalization—or worse.

  Even though he knew he would lie awake for hours after what he’d seen tonight, Matt just wanted to go home and go to bed. However, with nearly three more hours left in his shift, he could only take a break and hope he had time to eat before the next disaster struck.

  Matt and Ty turned toward each other. Everything around them was peaceful and still. Even the normally busy street was quiet. Of course, it was 3:30 a.m. on a weeknight. The only people out at this hour were those working odd shifts, the drunks, the thieves, and the troublemakers.

  After the night he’d had, the sudden quiet felt like being in the eye of a hurricane. He tried to shake the foreboding that, as soon as they sat down with their coffees, the radio would blast out some instructions, and they’d be in for more of the same. Unfortunately, this was too often the case. He didn’t want today to be another one of those days.

  “Let’s go in now, while we still can.”

  The words were barely out of his mouth when a pickup truck whizzed down the main road at approximately thirty miles per hour over the posted speed limit.

  Matt stiffened, his hand still on the button of his mobile radio. “Is it worth it?”

  Ty shook his head. “The speed we’d have to go to catch up, if he doesn’t turn, wouldn’t be worth the risk just for a speeding ticket. I don’t remember that kind of pickup on the BOLF list. Let’s go in.”

  As they walked toward the building, Matt noted a semi, complete with a trailer, parked on the street, then checked out the parking lot. Besides two small cars parked in the corner, which he knew was the area designated for employees, and the two squad cars, the only other car was a familiar large late model with a bent antenna and a mismatched door.

  “Guess who?” Ty mumbled.

  “The Ronskys,” Matt mumbled. “At least they’re here and not out causing trouble.” Matt pulled the glass door open and walked inside, speaking softly to Ty over his shoulder. “At least not yet.”

  Sure enough, the punks in question were holed up in the corner table. Tonight all five of them were together, speaking loudly, every second word a colorful expletive. The trucker sat alone in the corner, reading a newspaper, a coffee mug and a half-eaten donut in front of him on the table.

  Matt and Ty walked to the front counter without breaking stride.

  “Good evening, gentlemen. What will it be today?” The woman’s face changed from a polite welcoming smile to a full ear-to-ear grin. She looked Matt straight in the eye. “I’ll bet this is a café mocha and cranberry muffin day for you, Constable Walker.”

  Matt broke into a smile, the first of his shift. Seeing Sarah was truly the only bright spot of the night.

  Often when he entered an establishment, alone or with another member, people became tense or fidgety. Personally, he could never understand why anyone would be nervous of the police if they hadn’t done anything wrong, but he saw it all the time.

  Other people treated him with complete and utter disdain, as if he were the bad guy or seeking innocent people to harass. Nothing could be further from the truth.

  Sometimes the late-night managers asked him to speak to rowdy patrons to either settle them or evict them from the premises. While it was his duty to keep peace and order, he also needed some time off while he could get it, before the next call came in. On the flip side, some late-night staff made it obvious they didn’t want the RCMP to come in late at night because they made the rest of the clientele uncomfortable.

  Sarah simply treated him like a man who needed a break after too many hours of hard and often emotionally draining work. Stopping at Donnie’s Donuts was the breath of fresh air he needed when working a twelve-hour night shift, and seeing Sarah made it even better.

  Sarah seemed to be about his age, maybe a little younger, in her late twenties. He supposed she wasn’t bad looking, but he couldn’t tell for sure. She always wore the same, shapeless blue uniform smock with the Donnie’s Donuts logo. She never wore make-up, and she always wore her light brown hair pulled back in a stark, tight ponytail. He didn’t know how long her hair was, because he’d never seen it down. Beyond her pleasant and welcoming smile, Sarah’s best feature had to be her eyes. They were a unique sea green color, and they shone when she smiled.

  “Hi, Sarah. That sounds great.”

  She nodded and immediately punched his order into the cash register. He didn’t know how she did it, but most of the time Sarah seemed to be able to tell what kind of night he was having by looking at him. Sometimes he needed to listen to bright and inane conversation. Sometimes he wanted nothing more than to sit in silence and stare into the bottom of his cup. Somehow she usually matched his mood with the right kind of muffin or a donut. She even suggested different kinds of coffee for him—flavored coffees when he was having an easy day, stronger coffees when he felt tired, or sometimes, like today, something both strong and sweet when he needed a pick-me-up.

  Not that Sarah talked to him much. They weren’t on a first-name basis. She knew him as Constable Walker because his name tag displayed his rank, last name, and first initial. Matt knew her as Sarah because her nametag showed only her first name.

  Sarah turned and smiled at Ty. “And for you, Constable Edwards, a vanilla latté and a chocolate chip muffin?”

  Matt could almost see Ty drooling. “That sounds great, Sarah. Thanks.”

  Out of the corner o
f his eye, Matt saw the Ronsky clan and their accompanying entourage hustle out the door, leaving their unfinished coffees behind. Sarah sighed with relief but said nothing.

  Ty excused himself, leaving Matt standing at the counter to pay. After Sarah accepted his money, she turned around to select the two muffins and prepare the two cups of specialty coffee. While she waited for the machine to do its work, Sarah positioned the fingers of her left hand into the shape of a guitar chord. In time to the music of one of the local radio stations drifting in from the speaker overhead, she strummed the air in front of her stomach with her right hand.

  Matt couldn’t keep himself from grinning.

  Still in position to play “air guitar,” Sarah turned around. Seeing him still at the counter, her cheeks flushed beet red. For a second, her hands froze. Then she abruptly whipped them behind her back. “I’m so embarrassed. I didn’t know you were there. I was going to bring everything to you at the table.”

  The grin didn’t leave Matt’s face. “It’s okay. I sometimes do that when I’m working on something new too.”

  It was almost as though a lightbulb went on over her head as she realized he played guitar too.

  “You know, I can’t figure out the next chord in that song.”

  “If you quit where I think you did, that should be a C-major seventh.”

  She wiggled her fingers, froze again, then stared at him blankly.

  He turned around, moving so she could see the back of his left hand, then lowered his hand to show her his finger position. As she watched, he made the chord in the air. Rather than strum his right hand in front of him, Matt pressed his hand on his stomach and peeked at her over his shoulder. “It goes like this.”

  “I can’t figure that out without the guitar in my hands. I’m not very good. How long have you been playing?”

  “Since I was sixteen. So I guess that makes fourteen years, although I don’t play as often as I like.” He paused, not knowing how his next words would be taken but, at the same time, knowing he should be speaking out for his faith more than he did. “The only times I seem to play anymore is when I’m doing a special number at church, which isn’t very often.”

  Her eyes widened. “I have a friend who goes to that big church across from the arena. Do you go there? Do you know Gwen Bradshaw? And her husband, Lionel? They just had a baby girl a couple of months ago. They named her Jessica.”

  “Yes, that’s where I go. The names sound familiar, but I can’t say I know them. It’s a big place.”

  Before he could comment further, Ty returned.

  From her response, he had to assume that Sarah didn’t attend anywhere and was not a Christian, but she at least she had some friends who were Christians.

  Rather than respond to his comment, she finished preparing the two cups of coffee and set them beside the two muffins. She smiled exactly the same as she always did and slid the tray closer to the edge of the counter. “Enjoy!” she chorused, and stepped back. Matt picked everything up, and headed to their usual table.

  Ty smiled as he slid in, taking the seat backing up to the wall. “Just one more day, and we’re off. This cycle we get the whole weekend. I can hardly wait. Got plans?”

  Matt nodded, thinking of his short conversation with Sarah. “I plan to sleep most of Saturday, then go to church on Sunday.”

  “Say a prayer for me, Buddy, that I catch a big one. I’m going fishing with a couple of friends. We rented a boat this time.”

  “Some time you’ll have to come with me to church.”

  “Maybe. We’ll see.” Ty shoveled a large portion of his muffin into his mouth, slurped the foam off the top of his coffee, then grinned over top of the cup. “This is good, and this time, I intend to finish the whole thing before we get called out.”

  ❧

  Sarah Cunningham watched the constables take their usual seats, the center table along the wall at the side of the room.

  Many RCMP officers came into Donnie’s for their breaks. She especially looked forward to seeing Constable Walker. She’d counted out his two days, two nights, four days off schedule, and marked it on her calendar at home, just so she knew in advance when to expect him.

  Constable Walker smiled at something the other officer said, then he took a deep and obviously satisfying sip of his coffee.

  They’d never done anything but make small talk, some nights more than others. Today was the first time he’d said anything truly personal.

  He played guitar, and he went to church.

  Sarah remembered going to church with an elderly neighbor as a child. As an adult, she’d gone once with her friend Gwen. Twice if she counted Gwen and Lionel’s wedding.

  Knowing a little bit about Constable Walker’s life when he was out of uniform put a whole new slant to his character. It certainly made him more interesting as a person, and she already found him quite appealing. Like most officers who came in for their breaks, she supposed the way he held himself and his unshakable confidence and poise went with the uniform. At the same time, something was different about Constable Walker—she just wished she could figure out what it was.

  Kristie appeared from the kitchen. “Time for your break, Sarah.”

  Sarah glanced up at the clock. Even though the two constables had been there for only fifteen minutes, their radios could go off any second, and they’d be gone in an instant. She wanted to talk to Constable Walker, but Donnie didn’t allow the staff to sit with the customers while in uniform.

  She could go to the back and change, but by the time she did that, they’d likely be gone.

  Or. . .she could simply stand. There was no rule about not being friendly with the customers. The guitar-playing RCMP officer with the captivating smile and gorgeous blue eyes was definitely a customer.

  She’d been standing all night, and she really needed to sit for a while, but she couldn’t wipe the grin off her face as she walked to their table.

  They stopped talking when she came to a halt beside them.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but can I ask you something, Constable Walker?”

  She tried to ignore the sudden ear-to-ear grin of Constable Edwards, who appeared to be fifteen years senior to Constable Walker.

  Constable Walker leaned forward, smiled politely, and folded his hands on the table. His sky-blue eyes sparkled, even in the stark fluorescent lighting. “Ask anything you want.”

  Are you married?

  Sarah stood and blinked down at him, not knowing where the thought came from. It had been so clear she couldn’t tell for sure she hadn’t actually said it out loud.

  Fortunately, he continued to look up at her, his expression unchanged. Sarah inhaled sharply. “I was wondering if you could help me with that C-major seventh.” She slid a pen and a napkin across the table toward him. “Would you draw it for me?”

  As he drew the chord, he explained the fingering, then slid the napkin back toward her. “Do you have an electric guitar or acoustic, Sarah?”

  “It’s an acoustic guitar with a pickup, although I’ve never plugged it in. So far, I’ve only played by myself. And for Gwen, my friend who is teaching me, the one who goes to the same church as you.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know who she is, but I’ll watch for her next Sunday.” He paused for a second, one eyebrow quirked, and he started to open his mouth, making Sarah afraid that he was going to ask if she was going to be at church too. She believed in God as the creator of the universe and all that, but she wasn’t about to go to church because of it.

  Constable Edwards’ radio suddenly blared, cutting off whatever Constable Walker was going to say.

  “12Bravo9,” a female voice said flatly.

  Constable Edwards reached up to press the button “12Bravo9.”

  “MVA at River Road and Shay Street. Three cars, possible injuries. Can you attend as first responder?”

  He turned his head and spoke into the radio, which was fastened just below the tip of his collar. “I’m on my way.


  The same female voice came over Constable Walker’s radio. “16Bravo4.”

  He also turned his head as he pushed the button. “16Bravo4.”

  “Please accompany 12Bravo9.”

  “16Bravo4 copy. I heard the location.”

  Both officers stood. They finished their remaining coffees in one gulp and shoveled the last portions of their muffins into their mouths at once.

  “Sorry, Sarah,” Constable Walker mumbled through his mouthful as he plunked his hat on his head. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Before she could reply, they were out the door. The two squad cars roared to life. The headlights blinked on, the red and blue lights began to flash, and the sirens blared as they entered the street. Within seconds, they were gone.

  Sarah sighed. Once, Constable Walker had told her that they never really knew what they were walking into until they got there. This time, he wouldn’t know if this accident was a fender-bender, if it were so serious that people had been badly hurt, or if they were even dead at the scene. As emotionally unsettling as such a thing would be, this time there would be no danger to the attending officers.

  For other calls, he could be putting his life on the line.

  She didn’t want to think of Constable Walker, the officer with the mesmerizing blue eyes, being hurt on the job, or worse. Sarah stared blankly out the window in the last spot she’d seen his car and wondered, even though she didn’t go to church, if praying for his safety would be okay.

  Sarah sighed and glanced at her wristwatch. She had another five minutes of her break left, but it would be a full twenty-four hours before she might see Constable Walker again.

  It was going to be a very long night and an even longer day tomorrow.

  Two

  When Constables Walker and Edwards came to Donnie’s Donuts Thursday night, Sarah smiled and waved. Constable Walker tipped his hat and waved back as he walked, not breaking stride as he approached the counter.

  “How are you doing with that C-major seventh?”

  “I think I’ve got it figured out. Gwen will be so proud of me. Thank you.”