"Well, if you aren't going to help, I guess I better go." She stood up clutching her purse. "My father said you were different from all the others, but you're not. You guys are all the same. If you don't benefit from it, then you don't want to get involved. Thanks for the drink."
I stood up with her. She was at least my height in bare feet.
"Hold on."
Samantha glared at me and paused. With a sullen look she took a seat ans smoothed her dress out over her thighs. She folded her hands in her lap and waited.
"Look, I haven't been into this kind of thing for years. Women don't just show up everyday desperately needing my help. People don't come pounding on my door in the morning acting like I owe them something. Walking in here with that kind of attitude doesn't even get you a drink."
The sound of the falling rain seemed to fill the room as we stared at each other. Samantha was a beautiful woman but this was still my home. No one came here and talked to me like that. Especially not first thing in the morning.
She settled back into her seat, but her body still remained tense. Samantha began to study the patterns in my rug.
"I'm sorry I woke you up."
A peace offering. I took a deep breath and counted to five. Beautiful or not, she had started off on the wrong foot. I decided to give her another chance. Charlie Royce was someone I had considered a friend.
"How's your father?" I hadn't seen him for at least five years. That's how long I had been out of touch.
"He's dead."
"I'm sorry."
"In the line of duty. Daddy also had cancer."
My head nodded in understanding. The Charlie Royce I remembered had been a proud man.
Samantha looked at her empty glass. I walked to the bar and refilled it.
"I don't want to seem callous, but how do I know-"
"Daddy said to show you this." She reached into her purse and slowly produced the familiar shield. I recognized the number.
The low rumble of thunder rolled in from somewhere offshore. The dark clouds continued to gather.
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