Jerry Vetter and Ed Clough hated each other. It was all because of Lily Simmons. She’d been dating Ed when Jerry caught her eye five years ago when they were seniors in high school. Lily and Jerry were married now.

You’d think Ed would’ve gotten over it by now, but occasionally, he started it up with Jerry all over again. Typically in the bar after a few beers. It usually only amounted to a few black eyes and sometimes broken fingers. But Sam had to stop the fight just the same.

"He’s got this coming, Chief." Ed addressed Sam but kept his eyes on Jerry.

"Come on, Ed. You know fighting never solves anything. All it does is get you with some doctor bills." Sam’s tone was casual, but his body was tense, waiting to take action if the fighting got bad. Sometimes he let them throw a few punches and get it out of their system. If things got too rough, he’d have to jump in.

"Bastard ruined my life." Ed swung again, his fist connecting with Jerry’s chin.

Jerry’s face jerked to the right. Spittle and flecks of blood flew outward. The crowd jumped back.

Jerry turned toward Ed, anger gleaming in his eyes. He punched Ed first in the stomach, then the chin. Ed staggered back then whirled around, picking up one of the chairs and holding it over his head.

Sam jumped in between them, holding his hand out. "You don’t want to do that, Ed. Willful destruction of property. Billie might sue you."

Ed swung the chair anyway. Sam barreled into him, disrupting the force of the blow. The chair grazed painfully off his shoulder and smashed to the floor, one leg cracking loudly as it splintered off from the bottom of the seat.

Ed turned his anger on Sam. "What’d you do that for? I need to finish this guy off once and for all."

"This isn’t the way to settle things." Sam put his hand gently on Ed’s arm in an attempt to calm him.

Ed pulled back his fist. Apparently, he’d forgotten that his beef was with Jerry and was going to continue to lash out at anyone in front of him. Even Sam.

"Don’t do it, Ed. Assaulting an officer of the law isn’t something you want to get into."

The words made Ed hesitate for a second, then he crouched down and rushed Sam, barreling shoulder first into his stomach and knocking him to the floor. Before Sam knew what had happened, the two of them were rolling around on the floor, fists flying.

Sam was a good fighter, but Ed must’ve been taking lessons. He got Sam into a stranglehold, increasing the force on his windpipe. Sam smelled stale beer and cigar smoke on his hot breath.

"Hey, Ed, cut that out. That’s the chief." This was Jerry’s voice, ironically.

Sam kicked back, connecting with Ed’s shin. Ed loosened his grip slightly, just enough to allow Sam to break free.

Sam spun around in time to see Ed stagger back a few steps. Then Ed pulled a fist. Sam got ready to dodge. He didn’t want to hit Ed if he didn’t have to. Even though he was within his right to break up a fight, it was better if you didn’t have to leave a mark on someone. You never knew when the public would believe a claim of police brutality. He just hoped Ed would tire out before Sam had to hurt him in order to get him to stop.

Sam didn’t have to worry about that for long. A hulking figure stepped in between them, brought up his fist, and popped Ed right in the face, sending him crumbling to the floor.

Mick Gervasi turned to face Sam, a grin spreading on his face. "You gotta work on your street-fighting skills, Chief. I can’t always be around to get you out of trouble."

Chapter Twenty-One

"I could’ve taken care of Ed myself," Sam said as he peeled the buns off the burger he’d ordered at the bar. He squinted at the bare patty. Ketchup and mayonnaise were smeared all over the surface. He looked over at Mick. "Are ketchup and mayo bad for dogs?"

Mick shrugged.

Lucy whined, and Sam looked down at her. "You like ketchup?"

He scraped it off anyway. It didn’t seem like something a dog should be eating. Then he threw the burger into a bowl and set it on the floor. Lucy sniffed it cautiously.

"Beggars can’t be choosers there, buddy." Sam pressed his fingers against his bottom lip. It was sore where one of the punches had cut the inside of his mouth. He could still taste the coppery tang of his blood.

Mick leaned back in the kitchen chair. He was still wearing his leather jacket, and the deep pockets bulged out, the right one more so than the left. The amber-colored beer bottle in his hand tilted slightly as he leaned.

"I figured you could’ve taken care of him, but it looked like that might have taken a while. I didn’t want to wait around. Got important information." His gaze flicked from Sam to the dog. "When did you get a dog?"

Sam joined him at the table with his own beer. He glanced at Lucy, who was licking the sides of the bowl. "She’s a stray."

"You keeping her?"

Sam’s heart pinched. "Nah. Got no time. I had picked her up on another call and happened to have her in the truck when I was called to the fight. Figured the shelter would be closed by the time we were done, so I brought her here."

"Maybe you should let her stay. She’d be a lot better female companionship than either one of your ex-wives."

Sam laughed. Mick’s words had a ring of truth. Because Sam and Mick had been friends since they were young boys, Mick had known both of Sam’s wives well. He hadn’t approved of either of them. Maybe Sam should have listened to him.

"Jo would be good female companionship too," Mick continued.

"Jo and I work together. She’s off-limits."

Sam hadn’t really considered Jo as female companionship in that way. He liked her and respected her. He couldn’t imagine not having her in his life every day. But as a fellow officer. Not a girlfriend. She was attractive enough, but Sam didn’t have a place in his life for a woman, and especially not one where the relationship was going to screw up the workings of his whole police department.

Mick just sipped his beer and shrugged.

Sam’s eyes narrowed. Maybe Mick wasn’t speaking about Jo being company for Sam.

"She’s off limits to you, too." With Mick’s black hair, steely blue eyes, and linebacker build, he never had trouble getting women, even now when he was pushing forty. The way Mick ran through women, he didn’t want to subject Jo to him.

"Ed sure was mad," Mick said, changing the subject.

"Yep. Always the same thing."

"That’s what women will do to you."

"Can’t argue with that." Sam swigged his beer. "Good thing he didn’t press charges against you."

Mick smirked. "Right. Good thing he came to his senses and realized pressing charges against me might result in you pressing charges against him. Apparently, assaulting a police officer wasn’t something he wanted on his record."

Lucy finished licking the bowl and lay down next to Sam’s chair.

Mick got up and paced around the kitchen. It wasn’t a big room, so the pacing didn’t last long.

He stopped at the low wall divider that separated the kitchen from the living room. Gram had made Gramps widen the doorway and put that in when Sam was in his teens. The top of the divider was table-height, and it had bookshelves underneath on either side. Gram had used the surface as a buffet area to spread the desserts out on during holidays.

Mick picked up a birchwood-framed photograph of Sam’s girls that was sitting on top. It was Sam’s favorite picture, both girls in bright ski jackets with a snowy mountain behind them. Mick’s lips quirked in a smile as he looked at it. He had a special place in his heart for Hayley and Marla, and the girls felt the same way about their "Uncle" Mick. Mick had never married or had kids. Sam figured the girls were like a surrogate family.