Meredith decided she would just become a monk, or whatever women are called who have no sex in their life. Feeling great for a short time was not worth the hours of worrying about him afterward.
He had probably been right to end their affair the day after it started. Where could it lead, anyway? Neither were the type to sneak around which, in this town, was nearly impossible. He obviously liked being a bachelor; he'd avoided several attempts to be matched up with single ladies in the area.
The last thing she needed in her life right now was a man. It would be a long time, maybe never, before she would be able to set herself up for the possibility of marrying and then losing another husband.
He'd been wise to end it, but that didn't make it hurt any less. She felt like the only girl dumped at the prom.
Granger paced in his office down the hall. He circled his desk for the tenth time, thinking of crossing the distance to Meredith. He was glad the dispatcher, Inez, wasn't there to watch him acting like a squirrel in a cage. Inez would have laughed at him. She'd probably stop making fun of Adam, the oldest deputy, and start picking on him.
He thought of trying to call Anna Montano again. Eventually she would have to talk to him. She couldn't just send answers care of her brother, even if Carlo seemed to consider himself some kind of guard dog over his little sister. There were still questions about the accident.
Granger glanced at the hallway. Maybe he should ask Meredith about the Montano woman. At least that would give him some way to start a conversation.
He reconsidered, realizing he was acting the fool again, thinking about Meredith as if there weren't a hundred more important things for him to concentrate on. He couldn't help wondering why she hadn't stopped by when she came in this morning. It wasn't like her not to follow the rules. Even unwritten ones. He didn't even like her all that much he reminded himself. She wasn't his type, and he was far too old to let any woman get under his skin.
She was cluttery. He required an order about everything in his life. Half the time he saw her, she looked like she'd gotten dressed in the car on the way to school.
She was too short. Her legs would never wrap around his waist. He liked a woman who could do that. And her breasts were too large. Far too large, he told himself. Any more than a handful is a waste. And she wore her hair like a little girl. A damn ribbon. She had to be in her thirties, and she still wore ribbons.
He opened his bottom desk drawer and pulled the sliver of satin through his fingers. He had no reason for keeping the thing he decided as he shoved it back in the drawer.
Something his father used to say drifted through his mind. A man is pestering an idiot when he tries to fool himself.
Granger closed the drawer and headed down the hall. It was time he shook this interest before she became an obsession.
Meredith's appearance did not surprise him as he entered the county clerk's office. She wore a boxy sweater that had turkeys lined up along the border and sleeves. She had pulled her shoulder length hair back in a loose knot at the base of her neck so that the tiny turkeys dangling from her ears would show. Her skirt was too long and her shoes too practical to ever have been in fashion.
She looked ridiculous, he decided. Not a second-grader in sight and she still wore the uniform, like a clown who smeared on face paint even on his day off.
Stepping down from the chair she'd been using as a step stool, she watched him walk toward her as if she were watching a total stranger heading in her direction. He almost expected her to ask 'May I help you?'
Granger tried to think of something to say. He had been hoping that she was three doors down thinking about him all morning, but from the looks of things, she had been working.
He tried to focus on the turkeys on her sweater. 'I thought I'd go down to the truck stop for coffee and a burrito. You want anything?'
'Coffee would be nice.' She reached for her purse. 'The pot in the back is broken.'
He almost told her he had a pot in his office, but somehow that seemed too personal.
She handed him fifty cents and he took it. From the beginning, she would never let him pay for anything. He did not even try to now. Men buy one another coffee or meals in a haphazard rotation, but women always want to keep everything even. Teachers were the worst. He had seen them get out their calculators and figure tax and tip down to the penny.
'With cream, no sugar. Right?'
She smiled. 'Right.'
He stood there for a few seconds, waiting for her to say more. When she remained silent, he walked back to his office, grabbed his keys off the corner of his desk, and his pager from the wall, then headed out into the cold. If a 911 call came in, which it rarely did, the pager would sound.
The gray day suited his mood.
The truck stop on the interstate was busy as always. You'd think people would settle down for one day of the year he thought, but the highway still flowed like a stream of ants. He circled the lot once before parking, taking note of the out-of-state license plates. Nothing looked amiss.
In ten minutes he headed back with two large coffees and a burrito that had been frozen less then an hour before. He didn't bother to stop at his office but went straight to hers.
He almost expected her to be gone, but she was still there, working at her desk in the back corner. When he set the coffee down, he noticed the sandwich she must have brought from home. Times were tight for her he bet, wishing he'd insisted on buying her coffee.
Without a word, he pulled up a chair and sat down at the corner of her desk. He unwrapped his burrito and pulled off the lid to his coffee without looking at her. If she did not like him staying long enough to eat, she was going to have to say something. Neither of them would get over their night together hiding in separate rooms. And it might only be a burrito and a sandwich, but they might as well have Thanksgiving lunch together.
'Think it will snow?' She opened her coffee and poured in both the creams he had brought, then looked around for something to stir with.
It occurred to him that he might be the only one trying to get over anything. She did not even look like she remembered their night together. Maybe she had forgotten it. Maybe she thought it was a dream. Who knew about women? He'd been seeing one of his Sunday ladies off and on for two years, and she still got mixed up and called him George now and then.
'I doubt we'll see snow. Might get rain later tonight.' He tried to sound as casual as she did. Leaning back, he took a drink and frowned.
'Something wrong?'
'I can never get the coffee back here while it's still hot,' he mumbled.
She pointed with the fork she had found in her desk drawer and had been using as a stir stick. 'There's a microwave next to the sink over there.' She pointed with her head toward the corner.
While he waited for his coffee to warm he said, 'The only thing that seems to work around this place is you. The janitor told me the other day that if Cora Lee Wilson didn't move a little faster, he was going to have to start dusting her.'
'I like to keep busy.'
The microwave dinged and he reached for the thin cup. As he lifted his drink, the bottom of the cup caught the lip of the tray and splashed coffee across his hand.
Granger swore, tossed his cup in the sink, turned on the water, and plunged his right hand into the cold stream.
Meredith rushed to his side, pulling at his arm, trying to see if he was hurt. 'Let me see where you're burned!'
'It's nothing,' he said between clenched teeth. 'Only a scald.'
He rolled his sleeve up with one hand as water splashed over the cuff of his uniform.
She moved closer.
He jumped away, as if her touch burned deeper than the coffee.
Before she could react, he put the length of the desk between them. 'It's not important.' Granger fought to keep his voice calm. 'There's no need for you to worry over it.'
'Let me…' She reached toward him.
'No. Don't touch me.'
