Booker's Mate (Gay Werewolf Romance)

Chapter 3

Note to Reader:  Sorry this is late guys!  Sigh.  A lot of family things going on and now my work and living situation is a little up in the air- I'm going to do my best to try to stay on schedule.

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***

Saif

By the end of the week, I knew Sunnyvale's police department needed to hire at least one more person if not two.

The amount of work that was packed into my day could easily sustain another two.

I worked from eight to six-thirty at night, with the understanding that I was always on call if needed.

The department was just too small for that not to be the case.

At least I started getting into the rhythm of things after a few days.

And I had to admit, it was nice being greeted by name at the grocery store, the diner, hell, almost everywhere. Definitely fostered a sense of community.

Unfortunately, I had no downtime during the day and I still couldn't figure out a way to get to those case files.

I came back to the station later in the day to fill out a report involving three little girls who'd decided they were going to use chalk to draw on the outside of Mrs. Holt's house.

I got the feeling she wasn't exactly popular with anyone.

She'd called the police right away, of course.

It had taken me a while to talk her down from pressing charges. Honestly, I thought she finally relented simply out of a desire to lord it over the girls as they cleaned up the mess they'd made.

Hey, I'd take it.

And those girls weren't likely to do something like that again.

I was at my computer when Booker came out of his office.

"I'm taking off, Melissa."

"Alright, Sheriff," she said cheerfully.

I had to admit, I admired her ability to be cheerful in the face of anything.

It was well near a super power.

Booker saw me and gave me a salute as he headed out.

I checked the time.

It was only four.

The Sheriff usually came in before everyone and left after everyone.

Frowning, I looked over at Melissa where she was busy typing away.

"Why did he leave early?" I asked, trying to be casual about it.

"Oh, Sheriff Booker has some kind of hunting club he goes to once a month. With the hours he works, nobody cares that he leaves a little early on those days."

That made sense. He was a work horse.

More importantly, this was also possibly my chance to get into his office.