Boosted Pt. 01

"Smells good," Maggie said as she glided to a stop at his side.

"Just chicken stir-fry," he said as he accepted her offer of a kiss.

"Still smells good," she said as she pulled the lid off the pot of rice and peeked inside.

"That's ready," he said with a nod at the rice.

As he continued to flip the meat and vegetables, Maggie drained and then dipped the rice onto plates. He'd been delighted to find glutenous rice at one of the local stores and was now using it when they had Oriental dishes. When he'd first introduced Maggie to the joys of eating with chopsticks he hadn't yet discovered where to buy sticky rice. She'd struggled with the unfamiliar utensils, often switching to a fork so he wouldn't be left waiting on her, and no wonder. The loose, fluffy, American style of rice was a challenge to eat with chopsticks, even for an expert. He always ate Oriental food with chopsticks, so she'd kept at it and her skills had steadily improved. The easier to handle glutenous rice had done much to reduce her frustration and she was using chopsticks with reasonable skill and confidence now. She placed their tall glasses of water on the table as he slid the seared chicken and vegetables onto their plates and placed the wok aside to cool. He'd clean it later. Maggie set the plates at his small table and sat down.

"How was your day?" he asked as he joined her.

"Dull, which makes it a good day. Yours?"

He smiled as he pecked the chopsticks against the table to line them up before eating. Maggie was the facility manager of Brunswick's wastewater plant. Like in his own field, if something exciting was happening, it usually wasn't a good thing.

"Dull, so like you said, it was a good day."

"It was such a nice day today. You need to get your car fixed. It's starting to be convertible weather again."

He nodded in agreement as he took a bite from his plate. After their aborted trip to the outer banks in his Jag, he'd discovered that the float in one of the three carburetors no longer floated, and the failing carburetor was flooding two of the cylinders with fuel. He'd replaced all three floats on the assumption that if one failed, the failure of the other two probably weren't far behind. With the floats replaced the car ran better, but it still wasn't running properly. He suspected the new floats had leaned the engine out too much. He could do most of the maintenance on the Jag himself, but trying to tune and sync the three SU carburetors was beyond his ability or desire to tackle. He'd parked the car, intending to wait until spring to address the issue, and now spring was here.

"Yeah, I know. I need to find a place to work on it."

"There's probably a place in Raleigh."

He nodded again. "Probably. I need to check around."

"So hurry up!" she teased.

"Okay! Okay! Jeez," he replied with a smile before taking another bite of his meal.

They finished eating, rambling on about whatever came to mind. He'd met Maggie Neese not long after moving to Brunswick when a dead body floated up at the wastewater plant. She was about eighteen months younger than his own forty-two years, but she looked at least five years younger than that. Standing five-five with brown hair, often pulled back into a ponytail, large brown eyes, and a quick smile, she was becoming more beautiful with every passing day. She seemed to fit him, both emotionally and physically. Their eight-inch height difference was seemingly ideal, and when she was snuggled into his side, everything felt so natural and right, he couldn't imagine anyone taking her place. He hadn't said the L word to her yet, but there was no doubt he was starting to fall for her.

They finished dinner, and while she loaded the dishwasher, he quickly cleaned his wok and dried it on the stove. That task finished they settled onto the couch as he turned on the television. Maggie was a huge movie buff and they spent almost every evening watching something on Netflix, Hulu, or Amazon Prime. He'd never been much of a television watcher, but he'd recently upgraded his television to a fifty-five-inch unit with built in streaming. It wasn't as big as the sixty-five-inch brute Maggie had at her house, but he didn't have room for anything larger, and it was still a major upgrade over the ancient forty-something with no built-in streaming he'd had before.

"What are we watching tonight?" he asked.

He normally let her choose what they watched. She knew the types of movies he liked and took that into consideration, but she also occasionally introduced him to something he would have never watched on his own.

"Thor: Ragnarok."

He smiled. Marvel movies were always fun. "You just want to see that Thor guy," he teased as he picked up the remote. "What's his name?"

"Chris Hemsworth?"

Maggie was a walking, talking, movie compendium. He'd given up trying to stump her with movie trivia. The only time he could was if he cheated and looked up some incredibly obscure fact beforehand.

"Yeah, him."

She grinned at him slyly. "Well..." she drawled out. "It's supposed to be the best of the three Thor movies, but the eye candy doesn't hurt."

They settled down to watch, Maggie tucked in close to his side as he draped his arm around her shoulder and Marmalade helped himself to Sean's lap. He absent-mindedly stroked the cat slowly with his free hand as it slept.

When the movie ended, all three of them stretched. The days of inviting the other to stay the night had fallen away, just like the need to return home in the morning for clothes. Now it was assumed they were spending the night together unless one of them begged off, and several changes of clothes were kept at the other's home.

"Good movie!" she cheered as the credits began to roll. Because it was a Marvel movie, he fast-forwarded to the post credit scene and they watched it. "Kate Blanchett really nailed her roll," she continued when the scene was over.

"Who was she?" he asked as he checked for more post credit scenes.

She looked at him like he was a dull-witted child. "Hela?"

"The death goddess chick?"

Maggie snickered as she shook her head. "Yeah, the death goddess chick. Do you even watch the movies?"

They paused while they watched the final post credit scene. "Yeah, but I don't know the names of all the actors like you do."

"Okay, fair enough, but you didn't even know the character's name."

He snickered as he tried to gently nudge Marmalade out of his lap, but the cat was having none of it. "Norse mythology isn't my strong suit. I did recognize that the guy guarding the gate--"

"Skurge," she supplied.

"Yeah, him. He's the same guy that played Doctor McCoy in Star Trek, and--"

"Karl Urban," she injected.

"Yeah, that's him, and Jeff Goldblum was the Gamemaster."

"That's right!" she cheered, teasing him. "What else has Jeff Goldblum been in?"

"He was the chaos guy in Jurassic Park that was hitting on the woman dinosaur scientist, right?"

"Among other things," she agreed, bobbing her head. "Do you remember their names?" she asked with a playful smile.

He thought a moment. She was testing him, and he was failing. "No," he admitted.

"Jeff Goldblum was Doctor Ian Malcom and Laura Dern was Doctor Ellie Sattler."

He nudged Marmalade more forcefully to the floor, stood, and hoisted Maggie to her feet and into his arms. "Who needs IMDb when I've got you?" He kissed her quickly.

"Do you remember him, Jeff Goldblum I mean, from Independence Day?"

He thought a moment. "Was he the computer guy that planted the virus into the spaceship computer?"

"That's him," she agreed, her smile spreading. "David Levinson. You're getting better at this."

"You're rubbing off on me."

"Mmm," she purred, stepping in closer. "I like the way that sounds."

He smiled. When she put it that way, he liked the way that sounded himself. They may be in their early forties, but Maggie made him feel like he was twenty again.

"Ready for bed?" he asked.

In way of answer, she slowly stepped out of his arms and headed for their bedroom, dragging her fingers slowly across his chest as she did. He needed no other answer and turned out the lamp before following.

.

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TWO

"Understand, I'm not criticizing your performance," Sean said as Officer Hermosa sat in a guest chair across his desk from him. "It's just something you need to be aware of."

"Sorry, sir," Catalina, Cat to her friends and fellow officers, said.

"I know you're trying. Just dial it back a couple of clicks."

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, that's all I have. I'm giving you a two and half percent increase, which will appear on your next paycheck," he said as he slid a piece of paper across his desk with her current yearly salary, the increase percentage and the corresponding amount, and the new yearly total, along with what her new biweekly gross pay would be.

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome. You've earned it. Any questions for me?"

"No, sir."

He stood, Cat rising with him. "Keep up the good work, Officer Hermosa."

"Yes, sir, I will."

He opened the door for his officer and followed her out. As Cat turned down the hall to return to her patrol, he walked to the dispatcher's office.

Kim looked up as he entered. "Need something?"

Kim was going soft, greying, pushing sixty, and was like the den mother for the entire department. She used to bring something from her kitchen for 'her boys' almost every week. That had slowed to once a month or so when he'd almost doubled the size of the department. Not only was she liked by everyone on the force, but she was also impossible to rattle, no matter how hectic things got. He ran a relaxed department, and his staff called him by his name most of the time. The only time anyone called him chief was if they were in trouble, in a formal conversation, wanted something, or were razzing him. He had a good group of men and women, and he encouraged the laidback atmosphere.

"Yeah. When you can shake Tuck free, I need to talk to him."

She nodded. "Things are pretty slow right now. I'll let him know."

"Thanks," he said before turning and walking back to his office.

He settled behind his desk and exchanged Cat's review for Tuck's. The police station was a typical government building, with concrete block walls painted an inoffensive cream, while the floor was a green and ivory tile that was supposed to look like marble but wasn't fooling anyone. His office was larger and nicer than his officers, with drywall, wainscoting, and wood furniture in place of the concrete walls and industrial steel desks. More importantly, he didn't have to share his space, though he did have to share their ugly floor. At least the officers didn't have to share desks, even if they were doubled up in the offices. To give everyone a little more breathing room, the officers assigned to Tilley worked out of the Tilley police station.

While he waited on Tuck to arrive, he caught up on his email, updated Cat's file with her completed review, and set a reminder for her next review. Now that he had all his officer's personnel information in PISTOL--an acronym for Police Information Systems & Tracking: On Line--the software he'd installed last year to help manage his department, keeping track of his people was a lot easier.

He looked up at the soft rap on his door. "You wanted to see me?" Tucker asked.

"Yes. Come in, Officer Zelney and please close the door. Have a seat. This shouldn't take long," Sean said, gesturing to the chair Cat had vacated less than thirty minutes before. He slid a copy of Tuck's review across the desk. "Read that over and let me know if you have any questions."

Sean leaned back in his chair and waited as Tuck's eyes danced across the paper.

-oOo-

"I'm gone," Sean said, sticking his head into the dispatcher's office.

Unlike his officers, who normally entered and exited the building through the back, close to where their patrol cars were parked, he always left the station through the front. A thick pane of glass permitted the dispatchers to see into the small lobby, which allowed them to pull double duty as the station's receptionist. By leaving through the front, his dispatchers would see him come and go in case someone came asking for him.

"Going for your walk?" Kim asked.

"Yep. I'll be back in an hour or so."

"Enjoy your lunch."

"Want me to bring you something?"

She shook her head. "No, but thanks. I brought my lunch."

With a nod he stepped out of the small room, waggling his hand in a casual wave as he crossed the lobby and stepped outside. It was another perfect North Carolina spring day with a bright blue sky and reasonably comfortable temperatures. In a few more months he would be sweating buckets as the summer's heat bore down on him, but the state's falls, winters, and springs were lovely.

He walked the two blocks to Main Street and turned left, slowly strolling along, occasionally stopping at a business to greet the owners or employees. He tried to mix it up, stopping at different businesses each week, to give everyone a chance to speak to him if they had a concern or question. It had taken a little time for the business owners to adjust to his weekly strolls, especially since he started out as 'that damned Yankee,' but he was part of the community now and most greeted him warmly and seemed to appreciate his effort to make himself available.

He always followed the same path, walking up one side of the street before crossing over and walking back on the other, stopping either at Pop's Place or Big Belly Deli for lunch. The ten blocks of downtown Brunswick were full of businesses residing in restored row buildings built during the twenties and thirties. The joined brick buildings were obviously a source of community pride and were full of professional offices and retail shops that sold everything from artwork to ice cream. The town was known for its quaint downtown shopping experience and the area was thriving.

He ambled along like he didn't have a care in the world, and he felt that way. Relocating from Boston to Brunswick had been the best decision of his life. He enjoyed the friendly people, the pleasant weather most of the year, and the laid-back southern lifestyle. Having Maggie in his life didn't hurt either. He passed Pop's Place, smiling as he returned Linda's enthusiastic and friendly wave through the large front window. Linda worked the counter and all he had to say was 'the usual' as he sat down to have his meal prepared exactly the way he wanted it.

Today he'd decided to have lunch in Big Belly Deli, stepping inside and waiting his turn to place his order. Big Belly Deli was the restaurant that had given him inspiration for how he wanted Loch and Castle to look. Like many of the businesses, Big Belly Deli had renovated their space but kept all the old charm, from the wood floors and brick walls, to the stamped tin ceiling. The place wasn't fancy, but it was charming.

"Hey, chief! What can we get you today?" Mindy, the cashier asked as he stopped in front of the register.

"I'll have... the Beaknik I think," he said after looking over the menu behind Mindy's head. The thinly sliced roasted chicken piled high on buttered and toasted thick cut bread was his go-to sandwich when he couldn't decide what he wanted.

"Chips, fruit salad, or soup?"

"Chips, and water to drink." He didn't drink many sodas and the tea here was far too sweet for his taste.

"Eleven eighty-one." He swiped his credit card. "Number forty-one. Enjoy your meal," she continued, handing him his receipt.

"Thanks."

He found an open table and sat down to wait for his order. He liked to sit by the window, so he could watch the foot traffic pass on the sidewalk outside, but today he glanced around the deli. Pop's Place and Big Belly Deli were always busy at lunch, but neither was open for dinner, even though most of the surrounding stores were open until eight, and a few until nine. The only restaurant nearby open for dinner was Mangia, a mid-level Italian place that was thriving. Brunswick had plenty of restaurants, and an abundance of fast food, but none of them except Mangia were well positioned to take advantage of the dinner traffic the downtown attracted. He was trying to change that. Tilley's downtown was an easy five-minute drive away and Hud was working to recast his town as an entertainment destination to attract Brunswick's shoppers.

Movement outside the window caught his eye and he watched as an older couple strolled past, the man carrying several small bags. Rudy had managed to pull off a minor miracle by revitalizing and preserving his town's original business district. Now Brunswick was often featured with glamor shots of its busy downtown in places to visit articles promoting area tourism. Maybe lightning would strike twice and Tilley could ride Brunswick's coattails to recovery. He certainly hoped so. His business, and the future of Tilley, likely depended on it.

-oOo-

After lunch, Sean finished his stroll and returned to the station to spend the afternoon working his way through his emails and phone calls. Most dealt with routine matters and were quickly dispatched. Brunswick was a safe community. Other than dealing with the occasional theft, his officers spent most of their time being seen and dealing with minor disputes, barking dogs, and traffic violations. Eventually, he hoped, Tilley would be the same way.

He glanced at the clock in the corner of his computer screen. It was nearly four. He wanted to stop by Loch and Castle to see how things were progressing before going home. Since he had nothing pressing, he decided to leave a little early. He snapped the lid closed on his laptop, stuffed it into his computer bag, and slung the case over his shoulder.

"Leaving?" Terri, another of his dispatchers, asked when he paused in the door.

Terri Landers was in her mid-thirties with short brown hair and small, chic, glasses. Tall and thin, she was always cold, even in the middle of summer, and he could count on both hands the number of times he'd seen her working without wearing a sweater.

"Yeah. I'm going to check on the pub."

"How much longer? I want to check the place out. I've never had a Guinness."

He smiled slightly as he shrugged. "That's what I hope to find out today. Soon."

"Well, hurry up!" she teased. "We need a decent place for dinner around here that isn't Mangia or Mexican."

"Working on it. Trust me, nobody wants the place open more than I do."

She twittered out a brief laugh. "No, I guess not," she said before her eyes glazed over. "Brunswick 9-1-1," she said as she began typing on the computer.

Leaving Terri to her job, he walked to his unmarked Dodge Charger and tossed the case into the back seat. He drove to Tilley and pulled into the small parking lot behind the building with two other cars. When he bought the building, the accompanying lot was a weed-choked mess, but now it was paved and striped with crisp white lines outlining places for twenty-three cars. Tilley had also rebuilt the sidewalks and painted fresh parking stripes on Third and Main Streets around his pub. The Fire Marshal had set the occupancy limit for Loch and Castle at sixty, and while he didn't have room for that many cars, if most people came in pairs, nobody would have far to walk.

He smiled as he walked along the side of the building from the parking lot to the front door. He'd had the building professionally washed, and the difference that made was amazing. When he'd bought the building, he'd thought the bricks were an earthy brown, but under all the grime were beautiful, deep red bricks, waiting to be revealed. New windows with wood trim stained to match the doors completed the visible transformation on the outside. He'd also had to redo the roof, along with all the electrical and plumbing, but nobody could see those improvements.