Jesalyn Masters, USMC veteran and CIA analyst/ operative, is trying to cope with the loss of her family and fiancé. She moves to her father's birthplace of Nowhere, Nevada. Things are not what they seem in the idyllic small town. There are many myst...
He headed on his way back from another call about a black dog or wolf terrorizing farm animals. The fifth call today, and it was getting a tad bit annoying. Most of the residents of Wake County had firearms at the very least, shotguns. There is a standing agreement with the Sheriff's Department that residents could kill the predators if they endangered livestock or, in the extreme, family members and guests. Without the need to notify the Department. Dead animals are to be scheduled for pickup and disposed of by the Game Warden. So, coming upon a disabled vehicle was a welcome change of pace for interim Sheriff Mitchell Walker. Especially a pretty, long blonde-haired young woman. Well, what do we have here? He thought to himself.
He picked up the mic on his radio and called in. "Operation, this is Adam 112. Checking out disabled vehicle between mile markers 107 and 108. Over," he reported.
"Roger Adam112. Should we call Bobby? Over," came the reply on the other end.
"I'll get back to you on that. Over," Mitch responded.
"Roger that. Be safe. Over,"
"Always, Pardo. Over,"
Mitch exited from Jimmy and closed the door while looking at the young woman. Mitch could read the woman to find out her mental state and how best he could approach her. Typical disabled vehicle checks with lone drivers often meant frustration and agitation. Though she seemed dejected and frustrated, this woman seemed more levelheaded than most as she turned to face him.
The thought she was extremely attractive ran through his head. She stood about 5' 10" and appeared to have an athletic build, given the tone of her long legs that flowed from the jean cutoffs she wore. His reading stopped at her waist as her white linen shirt had not fallen back over her weapon. He could approach this in two ways. Aggressively or passively. Aggressively did not seem the way to go since, as she turned to him, she had raised her hands about chest level with her hands open but in receiving manner. He surmised she knew how to convey her intentions when the need arose with law enforcement.
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"I thank you, Ma'am, for your compliance," he said, to show he understood her intentions for them both to be safe. "I assume you're having car trouble. "
Jes looked at the tall man. "You assume correctly... Deputy?" she responded in a drawn-out tone, stating she was unsure how to refer to him. He hasn't shot me yet, so maybe not a horror movie. A random thought popped into her head.
"Interim Sheriff technically, but Sheriff will do, I guess for now... Miss?" he answered as he slowly closed to distance between him and her with his hands to his sides, palms facing her. Mitch couldn't help but notice her deep blue eyes. They were vibrant in the midday sun, but he could tell she was tired.
"Masters. Jesalyn Masters, Sheriff," she responded. "How do you want me to comply?" Please don't make me lie spread eagle on the hot ass road.
