Making It Home For Christmas?

Sergeant Emily Parker -- December 17th

"Thanks, Artie, Delicious as usual. How's Bill?" A hot latte was not only delicious, but it felt as if it was thawing her bones.

"He should be able to come home tomorrow. As long as the winter storm holds off for one more day." Artie, the middle-aged owner of the coffee shop and the best barista available, beamed his best smile toward her. He had a neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard and a pair of dark-framed glasses that always looked a little low on his nose. His rugged look would have been at home with the miners that found their town more than a century ago.

"That's fantastic." She lit up with an honest smile. Bill and Artie were two of her closest friends in town.

"He's still going to be moving slow for a while, but my hubby will heal. I'll bet he will be running laps around me again by summer. It'll give him an excuse to be lazy for a few weeks. Lord knows he needs it." Artie didn't stop moving, even if Emily was the only customer in the shop.

"It'll be nice to have him home for Christmas."

"I don't think he's too thrilled about it being my family's turn to come down for a holiday. It'll be nice to have my sister to help with the cooking since he can't, though."

"Sergeant Parker." The radio on her shoulder squawked.

"Yes, Christine?" Emily couldn't help a minor annoyance leaking out in her words; she had been planning on heading back to the station, a warm decaf latte in hand, to finish up some paperwork before her weekend started.

"Hate to put you back out in the cold, but we have a semi on unoccupied vehicle accident coming down the mountain. Fire rescue is on the scene, but we need someone to take statements. Fred's daughter broke her arm; he's with her." She added as an explanation for why their traffic specialist couldn't run the call.

"10-4, I am on my way." She managed to hold an exasperated sigh until after she got off the radio. "Thanks for the latte, Artie!" Emily quickly threw a couple of bucks in the tip jar and sped out of the coffee shop. It was bright and sunny outside, but the air was bitingly cold. The blanket of white snow was near-perpetual this time of year up in the mid-sized mountain town in northern Colorado. It would be blinding if not for her sunglasses that were instinctually on as she walked out of the shop.

The dispatcher didn't have to tell her exactly where the accident was; only one road came down the mountain from a pass. At the crest of the peak, a couple of fire trucks and a wrecker had the road cut down to a single lane. A large red and green semi-trailer was adorned with what looked to be Christmas lights and in the wrong lane. The wrecker crew was working on a flat tire on the dark brown truck cab; the exhaust stacks looked to be the color of antlers. The front grill of the truck looked to have a bright red nose of glowing Christmas lights. In script on the cab was written: "Rudolph," complete with quotes in what looked like a string of hand-painted Christmas lights. She couldn't help the slightest smile at the festive truck.

Emily turned on her lights and climbed out of the SUV that served as her police cruiser. Speaking to the firefighter at the front of the cab was a rotund gentleman in a bright red parka. White hair poked out from under a dark red beanie. He had an immaculate white beard and rosy cheeks, likely caused by the cold wind.

"Sergeant Parker." The local fire chief gave her a nod as she walked up, clipboard in hand, to take statements from both parties. "Mr. Calvin here lost a tire as he was coming over the pass. He couldn't stop his truck when that was coupled with an icy spot.

"Fortunate, for him at least, an SUV stopped the rig before it plunged off the cliff. The unoccupied vehicle went over the cliff but prevented the semi from going through the guardrail. Witnesses coming up the pass said that the other vehicle rolled a few times before coming to a stop. A couple of my men climbed down to check that the SUV was empty. Washington tags on the truck; my guys have photos of the tags and VIN. Do you need more?"

"No, that should help us ID the owner. Do we know if the car has been parked here long or if it is recent?"

"Lou didn't see it this morning on his way into work, if that helps."

"It does; how far down is it?"

"Forty feet or so, perched between a couple of trees."

"Is it a risk to fall further down?"

"My guys don't think so. There is a third tree to the front a few feet; it should stop any other sliding. The wreckers aren't optimistic they can get it back up anytime soon, certainly not until it thaws in the spring."

"Don't risk anyone unnecessarily." Some of the fire chief's men liked to repel down cliffs a little more than necessary, even in the cold.

"My men are well aware, ma'am."

Emily gave him a nod. "Let me walk around and take a look. Mr. Calvin, was it?" The older gentleman gave her a nod. "I'll need a statement from you in just a minute." She turned to the fire chief. "How long is it going to take to clear the roadway?"

"The wreckers said it is going to be a little while; they need to get that tire changed before we can get him moved to the parking area."

"Thanks, Chief. Once your men get back up here, have a good weekend."

The trickle of cars and trucks over the pass was not too bad considering the time of day and officers directing traffic around the accident. She quickly found a gouge in the asphalt where the steel rim bit into the road and jerked the rig across a traffic lane and into a parking area. There was a lovely overlook of her town that was quite a popular scenic opportunity. The truck did not appear to be the worse for wear, even with a missing front tire. The guardrail would need to be fixed as soon as possible; she didn't need more cars rolling into town from the mountain.

"What happened to my car?" A man looking to be in his early thirties emerged from a small path that meandered about half a mile to an even more impressive vista. He was well provisioned for a snowy hike, a large camera slung over one shoulder and a backpack affixed to his back. A neatly trimmed goatee was visible with a look of shock on his dark features.

"There has been an accident. Are you the owner of an SUV with Washington tags?" Emily walked across the highway in a break between the oscillating one-way traffic.

"Yes, officer."

"Sergeant Parker. I am sorry about your truck." She extended a gloved hand to shake his; he took hers with a warm smile that showed through for just a moment.

"Damn, I thought it would be my winter driving that was going to be risky. Not taking pictures." He turned back to the torn guardrail.

"Your name, Sir?" Emily pulled out the pen on her smartphone to take notes.

"Devon Rogers. Where are my manners? A little distracted about the missing car."

"Understandable, sir. Fire rescue says that the car has Washington tags. Are you on your way somewhere for the holidays?"

"Sort of; I was very slowly driving back home to Kansas City. I was taking my truck back with the three weeks of vacation. I guess I don't need to worry about that now. Where is it?"

"Wedged between a pair of trees, forty feet straight down."

"Totaled?"

"It rolled a few times on the way down. That's for your insurance company to figure out, but I would say yes from what I have seen. Do you have somewhere to stay in town?"

"I have never been here before; I just couldn't pass up a picture like that." He pointed out to an incredible vista of her idyllic mountain city. "I was hoping to make it over a couple more passes before the winter storm hits, maybe make Denver if I pushed it."

Emily handed him a card from her pocket. "Local hotel, they should have ample vacancies this time of year. Sorry, but I doubt we can get anything taken care of tonight."

"Thanks." Devon took the car and walked closer to the cliff taking photos of everything on the scene.

The sergeant paced around the accident site, making notes on her phone for yet another report that she would have to take care of before her weekend could start. I am already on time and half. She had been picking up extra hours, usually a rarity for this part of the year. Her town thrived on tourism, but only during the summer. Her sleepy little city did not have any ski slopes to attract winter tourists. The river that ran through the center in the city was a draw to rafters and kayakers alike who loved to challenge themselves on the rapids. Numerous trails attracted a litany of hikers and mountain bikers.

Emily must have taken a half-hour to document everything, long enough that the wrecker crew was able to get the rig pulled entirely out of the highway. She made sure to take pictures before they did, however. Mr. Calvin and Devon seemed to be having a friendly conversation the entire time; from what she caught of it, she doubted that Mr. Calvin's insurance company was going to be happy with him admitting absolute responsibility. The facts, though, were on Devon's side.

"Mr. Calvin, is your truck drivable?"

"Emily, I do believe so, now that they got the wheel changed out." Scraping across the asphalt had bent the steel rim irreparably. The replacement did not quite match the others but seemed perfectly functional. "I do need to get this truckload of toys over a couple more passes before the storm hits, or some kids aren't going to get them in time for Christmas." There was so much kindness in his eyes; the older fellow didn't seem phased without sunglasses in the glaring brightness. Seargent Perkins did not recall giving him her first name; perhaps the fire chief said something.

"Do you have his insurance information?"

"Yes, ma'am, I do."

"I am so sorry again, Devon. Is there anything you need from the truck?" Mr. Calvin asked.

"My Luggage, I have my laptops with me in my bag, but all my clothes are down there."

"My insurance will cover those. Is there anything irreplaceable?"

"Yeah, unfortunately, I had a couple of handmade gifts for my niece and nephew." Devon just kept looking at the gap in the guardrail. A couple of maintenance workers were erecting warning signs and caution lights around the hole in the fencing. "I haven't met them in person. Their mom and dad have been based in Germany for a while."

"How old are they, Devon?" Mr. Calvin said with a sparkle in his eyes.

"My niece is six, and my nephew is four, Mr. Calvin."

"Please, call me Sawyer. Let me see what I have in my truck." The older gentleman disappeared into the sleeper cab of his truck, emerging mere moments later with a hand-carved model of his tractor-trailer in one hand and a very nice stuffed German Shepard in the opposite. He placed both in a red velvet bag and handed them to Devon. "Here, I hope these will be a good enough substitute."

"Thank you, Sawyer." Devon looked slightly confused by the transaction.

"You two have a merry Christmas. Do you need anything else from me, Emily?"

"No, Mr. Calvin, we have all of your information if we need anything else. Drive safe and have a merry Christmas yourself."

"I will; I promise I will keep it between the lines from here on out. I got grandkids to see in Denver. Make sure he stays safe." Sawyer pointed at Devon somewhat discreetly.

Seargent Parker gave him a nod before turning her attention to Devon. "Do you need a ride into town? I don't think they are going to be done here for a while."

"That would be great; I guess I need to get started on all the accident crap with insurance."

Devon -- The next morning

Devon sipped a warm cappuccino as he looked up from his work, watching a magical but relentless snow falling quickly. He would have time enough to gather more photos over the next couple of days. Mr. Calvin had been correct about his insurance company taking care of everything; by Monday, the entire process of replacing his truck would be in motion. The company was even going to cover his hotel room for a few days; whoever did their insurance seemed too good to be true. He had expected a litany of phone calls to only begin on Monday, but to Devon's surprise, he didn't even have to wait on hold when he called on a late Friday afternoon. Considering that it was a company he had never heard of, he was pleasantly shocked.

If only he could find a truck at a dealership anywhere nearby. The closest rental he could see was hundreds of miles away. They seemed to be as supply-constrained as the dealerships. Probably more so with all the people traveling for the holidays. He was happy that he had built in extra time to get back home by Christmas. It did not appear that he would be able to go anywhere until after the winter storm broke. It wasn't like financial institutes would be moving during the weekend anyway.

The coffee shop seemed to be the only source of reliable Wi-Fi in town. His cellphone barely had any service down here in the little valley between mountain ranges. His hotel was nice, but the free Wi-Fi limped along at speeds that made dial-up look speedy. Fortunately, the coffee was tasty, and the owner was quite happy to allow him to work all day at the table. Devon made sure to tip well and buy several cups of coffee during the day.

Although Devon had planned to stay far away from work for the three weeks of his vacation, getting stuck in town had allowed him to catch up on his teams' progress. His boss saw him on chat and told him he appreciated keeping track of things, but he needed to be on vacation. Devon shut his work laptop and started editing the photos he had taken. It had been a while since he had been out and doing any travel photography. It seemed like he was culling more pictures than usual, but the few landscapes he had taken before his truck was destroyed were turning out spectacular.

"Morning Artie! The usual, please." Devon's vision was pulled from his screen to a familiar young woman that he had seen yesterday. Even though it was cold and snowing, she walked in wearing a light jacket and matching dark blue yoga pants, thick snowflakes adhered to her shoulders. The pair of thick gloves and stocking hat argued that she was at least a little concerned about the snowstorm. "Devon! You didn't make it out before the storm?" The blue contrasted well with both her dark hair and pale complexion.

"No, I think I am stuck here until at least Wednesday, Seargent Parker."

"I am not at work; it's Emily." She said with a bright smile as she took off her beanie and sunglasses. "Still going to make it home for Christmas?" It was the first time he had seen her without sunglasses. Devon was immediately struck with a stunning and unique pair of eyes. Around her pupils was a warm brown, while the outside of her irises was a greenish-blue. Coupled with her long, dark, straight hair tied in a ponytail with a pink bow, Emily had a gorgeous look.

"Maybe, depends on If I can find a ride between now and then. Though it seems like my sister and her family are going to be late leaving Germany. They are not going to arrive until the day before Christmas Eve."

"Wow, is that our town?" Artie, the proprietor of the coffee shop and the only barista who had managed to make it to work in the storm, asked as he brought Emily a beverage. "I suppose you don't want your scone before your workout."

Emily shook her head with a smile. "Can I take a look?" Devon nodded as Emily bounced over behind him. She was tall for a woman but several inches shorter than him. "Oh, very nice, Devon. Is this what you do for a living?" In the light jacket, he could see she had a beautiful figure. Much easier to see without the winter gear and bullet-proof vest she was wearing yesterday.

"Thanks, both of you. No, this is what I do for fun. I am a project manager for a big software company up in the Seattle area." Devon couldn't help smile at the excitement of both.

"Do you send in photos for contests?" Artie asked, starring over one shoulder.

"I have. Never won anything, though."

"It's too late this year, but you should enter it into our town contest next year," Artie said, pointing at all the artwork decorating his shop.

"I'll think about it," Devon said with an honest smile. Artie hustled back to his counter as a couple of other customers walked in.

"We don't get a lot of winter images of our town." Emily pulled out a chair beside him and took a seat. "I hope you don't mind some company."

"Not at all."

"Good, I know I can be intimidating when guys find out what I do for a living." Emily sipped her beverage and looked into his eyes, affecting her best severe glare.

"I am just good at hiding the fact I am scared senseless at the moment." Devon gave her a laugh. "You're not quite as frightening outside of the uniform."

"You just haven't seen me take out a heavy bag." Her eyebrows arched a little with a confident smirk. "So, why did you choose to drive through our city this time of year?"

"I love the mountains and miss snow. I thought three weeks would be plenty of time to drive across the country, even this time of year if I took it slow. I had gotten plenty of good pics before my truck ended up in a tree."

"It was a pair of trees." She said with a hint of a smile. "What do you have planned for the next couple of days then?"

"Lots of picture taking and photo editing, I suppose. I hope Artie doesn't mind me soaking up his bandwidth."

"I don't think he'll complain, as long as you keep buying coffee." Emily looked back at Artie with an unmistakable wink.

"Oh come on, Em, you know one cup buys all-day access," Artie said as he served the couple that had come in. "Plus, you know I like a little company. The snowstorm is making business a bit slow."

"You got anything else fun planned?" Emily turned her attention back to Devon.

"I have one set of clothes that are not in a tree or pair of trees. I suppose I need to find more and do some laundry."

"You workout? I mean, you look like you do."

"Yeah, but I don't think I want to pay for a gym for just one or two visits."

"I have a guest pass; you can go with me. You still need some clothes, though."

"Really, for a stranger you just met?"

"She's nice like that, especially for cute guys during the winter," Artie responded as he walked back over to the table and stood close to the pair.

Emily shrugged. "I don't suppose you have wheels."

"Again, in a tree on a mountain."

"Then pack up; my generosity has a direct relationship with how much coffee I have. I can run you over to Artie's husband's place to buy some workout gear."

"Is that why you are always so pleasant in here?" Artie questioned as he rearranged pastries in the display cabinet.

"Okay," Devon didn't argue. A pretty woman wanted to drive him around. That and Emily's words had a commanding tone to them.

"I guess Bill isn't making it home today?" Emily turned her attention to Artie.

"He's out of the hospital, staying with his sister since he can't leave Denver. Bill should still be here for Christmas, so that's something."

"If he doesn't, you are always welcome at my place; my parents are staying home this year."

"Thanks, Em. If my family doesn't make it too, I will give you a call."

"Don't forget to charge my card again," Emily said with a smile as she donned her hat and gloves again.

Devon made sure his coat was zipped, and he was bundled up against the chill as Emily led him out of the coffee shop. Emily opened the door to a classic International Scout SUV in a bright metallic orange that he was sure was not an available option in the late sixties or early seventies. It was an impressive classic, with large knobby and studded tires. The condition of the paint was remarkably nice, but it looked like it was used and not just for looks.

"Nice truck." Devon couldn't help walking around and staring at the vehicle with some awe.