Mighty Quinns Ian

IAN SQUINTED against the sun, the glare from the wind-shield piercing his head like a sharp knife. He'd spent the previous evening with his brothers, drinking far too much beer. It wasn't really a problem since it was Saturday, and as police chief of Bonnett Harbor, he was off the clock. Still, he had to keep an eye on things, at least until he got a cup of coffee and made plans for the rest of his day. He glanced toward the back of the Mustang, its ragtop neatly folded behind the backseat. A little shade would probably help to get rid of his headache, but riding around with the top up was sacrilege on a beautiful June day like today. He pulled up to the light at Main and Harbor and waited to turn right, knowing it would take precisely thirty-two seconds to change. "He's doing it again." Startled, Ian jumped, then glanced over at the elderly woman leaning into the passenger's side of his car. He groaned inwardly and rubbed his forehead. "Mrs. Fibbler. How are you today?" "You said you'd talk to him," she snapped. "But he's still putting his trash on my side of curb." The pounding in Ian's head intensified by a factor of ten. "Mrs. Fibbler, technically the land between the sidewalk and the curb isn't yours. It belongs to the town. That's why we can plant trees there without having to ask your permission. I know, you mow the grass there, and by doing that, you believe it's part of your... domain. But I can't stop Mr. Cuddleston from putting his garbage out where he wants. As long as it's on the curb on Tuesday morning then we're all happy." She frowned, her little flowered straw hat sitting crookedly on her head, giving her a slightly crazed look. "But you promised you'd talk to him." The light turned green and Ian stuck his hand out and waved the cars behind him ahead. "Did you ever think Mr. Cuddleston does this because he knows you're going to come over and yell at him? I think he likes you, Mrs. Fibbler. And I think, if you were a little nicer to him, you two might..." She gasped. "Chief Quinn! How dare you think that I would--" "Become better neighbors," Ian finished. "That's what I was going to say." She stood up and smoothed her hands over her flowered housedress. "It's only been five years since my Sherman passed on. I'm still in mourning." Ian sent her a disarming smile, one he'd used so often in his work as police chief. "You're an attractive lady, Mrs. Fibbler. A man like Mr. Cuddleston would have to be blind not to see that." He congratulated himself when a tiny smile crept across her stern expression. It was a wonder how little he used his police training here in Bonnett Harbor and how much he relied on his charm. "Do you really think he's--" She paused and pressed her palm to her chest, her cheeks coloring with a modest blush. "I--I suppose I could offer an olive branch. Perhaps invite him for dinner?" "As chief of police, I'd have to say that's a brilliant course of action, Mrs. Fibbler. Brilliant." The elderly lady bustled off down the sidewalk, a wide smile now beaming from her face, her shopping bag clutched to her chest. She turned back once and gave Ian a little wave and Ian returned the gesture with a weak smile. "Another damsel in distress rescued from certain danger," he murmured. When he'd moved back to Bonnett Harbor from Providence two years ago, he'd never expected his social life to take such a hit. It had been easy to date in the city, the available women in endless supply. But here, everyone knew him. If he chose to date someone in town, the entire population knew the details within a day or two. The out-of-town affairs had been satisfying, though short-lived, since his work seemed to consume most of his free time. In the past year, he'd dated three women for a grand total of thirteen weeks. Hell, he could almost imagine himself as Mr. Cuddleston in a few years, fighting over garbage simply to get a woman's attentioHoffmann, Kate is the author of 'Mighty Quinns Ian', published 2006 under ISBN 9780373792894 and ISBN 0373792891.