Lana had indeed questioned Brenna relentlessly after Mac left. Who was he? How had they met? What were they to each other? What did this mean? Where did Brenna want this to go?

Displeased with Brenna's short replies and unwillingness to elaborate she resorted to imagining her own tales of dramatic courtship and fairy tale endings. By the time Brenna gently reminded her of her duties she'd already spun a story in which Mac saved Brenna from several natural disasters, swept her away to a glorious Caribbean wedding and provided her with numerous children.

As much as she loved the woman, Brenna breathed a sigh of relief after the sound of her sensible shoes retreating down the hall could no longer be heard.

Her concentration was shot and her head ached; reluctantly she decided to pack it in for the day. She had just slung her bag over her shoulder and was reaching for the light when Detective Mark Brewster appeared in the doorway just inches from her and startled her so badly she almost fell back but caught herself on the file cabinet to her right.

Unlike Mac, Lana and almost anyone else, Brenna hadn't heard Mark coming down the hall. He wore dark dress slacks and a pearl gray dress shirt and tie. His detectives badge hung around his neck from a bead ball chain. She noticed his thick brown hair looked expertly tousled as always. He reminded her of a magazine model.

It was one of the reasons she'd never been able to return his level of interest in anything more between them. She simply couldn't see herself next to someone who spent so much time trying to look perfect. She was very far from perfect and embraced that, she had no intention of trying to conform to anyone else's standards.

His interest in, and subsequent pursuit of her, baffled her quite frankly. He was a nice enough guy and she'd formed a good working relationship with him but that was all she wanted. She'd sat him down and been clear with him that she did not return his affections and did not wish to be anything more than work friends yet he frequently still made advances that she'd simply learned to ignore.

"How was the Caribbean? Whoa! What happened to the foot?" His face registered shock as he took in the crutch and bandage.

"Slippery, sharp rocks. It's fine. I was just heading out, did you need something?"

"When I called earlier Lana said you were reviewing a new case file that was sent over from Brown County. I came by to see if it's our guy's handiwork." He stepped past her and into the office. Brenna sighed and pivoted around to follow him abandoning hope of getting in a long hot bath before bed.

"I believe it's him. All the signature pieces are there; same pattern." She perched herself on the corner of the desk with her purse trying to not look permanent. She was hoping she could hurry this along and still get that bath.

Mark sat in her chair and threw his loafer clad feet up on her desk. She sighed in disappointment. He looked to be settling in for the long haul.

"I've emailed pictures of all three of them and a list of questions we need answered to the Brown County Sheriff's office investigator who contacted me. If they get on it in a timely manner maybe we can get some answers that point in a specific direction." She toyed with the rubber handgrip of her crutch as she spoke.

"I was talking with Mac Tullman today and he thought of the same thing I had, about the perp possibly having a mental illness like OCD that makes him follow the exact same steps each time. That might be an avenue to pursue deeper. Really look into each history and look for other signs of that kind of behavior." She looked up as she finished and found Mark staring at her with a hard look in his eye. He softened his face when he saw her puzzlement.

"Why were you talking to a K9 deputy about this case?"

"I wasn't really. He stopped by while I was looking over the photos and we got to bouncing some ideas around." His tone had been slightly accusatory and put her on the defensive. "He's a law enforcement officer. It's not like I was talking over pertinent facts of an ongoing investigation with some random person at the bus stop."

'No of course not. Mac's a good guy; he's solid. I wasn't trying to accuse you of unprofessionalism. Of course you can't help it if parties from one case come in while you are working on another." He opened his hands in front of him in an act of surrender.

Brenna didn't feel the need to correct him. Why Mac was there was really none of his business.

"Right. Well, I don't really have much for you now. Brown still has this one tied up so I am considering taking a drive over there on Thursday and poking around. If I find anything or hear back from them I'll let you know."

Mark seemed to understand he was being dismissed. He took his feet off her desk and stood up.

"I was figuring on finding food after I was done here. How would you like to come with me?"

"No thank you Mark. It is kind of you to ask but I just want to go home and relax."

"Maybe next time." he walked toward the door with her on his heels. She kept silent not wanting to encourage him. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Mark." She took her time shutting off the light and locking the door behind her; enough to give him a head start out of the building and the parking lot. She didn't feel like having any more awkward conversations with Mark Brewster.

Once in her car she removed the hair band from her hair and shook out the braid running her hands through her thick tresses. Her phone lit up on the seat beside her signaling she'd received a text message.

Brenna swiped the screen and saw that Mac had sent her a picture. She touched the link and laughed out loud at the picture of Reego with a hand lettered sign hanging from his neck and a look of shame on his doggy face.

The sign read: "I am a highly trained, highly intelligent and valuable member of the Sheriff's office. I'm worth over $30k and have hundreds of arrests to my credit. I also ate my partner's work boot while he was in the shower and now have a tummy ache."

She could not have removed the smile plastered to her face as she drove home even if she had wanted to.

*************

She had a nice red shiny, scar running the length of the inside of her foot, but the doctor said it had healed nicely and removed all the stitches. She was more than pleased to ditch the offending crutches and walk on her own 2 feet again. She was quite happy to find she hadn't forgot how to function on two feet and after the first few steps it was back to normal.

Brenna had immediately left the doctor's office and gone straight to the shoe store where she bought a new pair of cute strappy heels for her date later than night before returning to work.

Her uniform required sturdy leather boots that she'd had modified with a zipper down the front instead of laces for quick entry and exit when she'd worked the fire line. They were safe, but not quite comfortable on her freshly exposed new skin, even with the thick boot sock, and she shucked the boot under her desk as soon as she got back to the office.

Brad Meeks arrived with a loud belch and a pat to his large round belly.

The 54 year old fire inspector only had two more years to retirement and had been letting himself go over the last year. Brenna worried he wouldn't be enjoying many years of leisure if he kept up his current habits. Brad with his shaggy gray hair and florid red face had stepped in as a kind of mentor and father figure when Brenna had started with the department. Over the years they had stayed close. When Brad's wife had died, Brenna organized the wives of the auxiliary to make sure Brad had meals and house cleaning for a year and personally checked in on him every day.

When Brenna's own tragedy had occurred he'd been right there by her side, holding her hand in the hospital. It had been part of what had drawn her to move to investigations; knowing that she'd be working with good, safe Brad again. Some of the guys had accused her of hiding out or losing her nerve but she knew it was really about staying in the game while giving herself time to heal and get her life back together.

"How's the tootsie?" Brad asked as he lowered himself into his strained chair.

"Doc said it healed up nicely. Took the stitches out and I don't have to use the crutches anymore." She lifted the appendage and wiggled her toes at him to prove her statement.

"Good to hear! I'll stop taking up all your slack for you since your 100% again."

Brenna just rolled her eyes at his joke. No one could possibly accuse Brenna of leaving slack. "So I'm thinking of taking a drive up to Brown County on Friday and taking a look at the site of this one." She waved the file at him.

"You think there might be something they missed?" He didn't look at her but kept flipping through the stack of paper on his desk.

"No. But then again, they weren't looking for the same things I would be looking for. It can't hurt." She shrugged.

"Nope." He replied shortly. "There's a really good burger joint called Moe's on Highway 58, if you go make sure you stop there."

She smiled to herself. Brad knew every "good" restaurant and eatery within a 200 mile radius.

"Maybe you can take that young man Lana told me came in and brought you coffee the other day." He still didn't look up but she could see his grin regardless.

"I"m going to kill her."

"Nope. Then I'd have to figure out how to use the fax machine and this old dog has no desire to learn new tricks."

Just then the object of Brenna's annoyance came clicking into the room in a pair of teal pumps that perfectly matched her teal pantsuit and champagne colored blouse. She carried a large glass vase filled with a bouquet of summer wildflowers that completely obscured her face and hair.

"The florist just dropped these off for you." She placed the bouquet on Brenna's desk and waited expectantly for her to pick out the little white card and tell her who they were from.

As much as Brenna wanted to hold back and torture Lana for her gossiping, she had to know who sent the lovely arrangement. She plucked the card from its spot beside a large Gerber daisy and broke it open.

Can't wait. See you tonight. - Mac

She could feel the color creeping up into her face. When she chose to look she found both Brad and Lana staring at her with looks of complete amusement.

"You two are pathetic, knock it off," she snapped at them both; which only served to make their smiles bigger.

"They're from him aren't they? I just knew it. That man is a dream boat. I approve 100%!" Lana gushed.

Brenna rolled her eyes and turned her back on them both and hunched over her keyboard. Lana continued to gush to Brad about her brief encounter with Mac while Brenna tried to tune them out. The small clock on the corner of her screen told her she still had 4 more hours of work and 2 hours of to get ready after before her date with Mac. Her stomach fluttered at the thought.

She marveled at how she'd gone from abject fear of the man and the feelings he made her feel to such anticipation and downright teenager like giddiness in such a short time.