Free One Night by Debbie Macomber

eat something, after all.
    “Where’s Sheriff Collins?”
    “Probably home watching television,” Kyle muttered as he peeled the cellophane wrap away from the sandwich. It astonished him how loosely run the jail was. If he was intent on breaking out, he’d wager money all he’d need do was ask Carrie to search through a few drawers for an extra set of keys.
    “I suppose I’d better get back to the Johnsons’ place,” Carrie said.
    Kyle wasn’t keen on having her leave, but he couldn’t think of an excuse for her to stay. He never thought he’d feel that way about Carrie Jamison.Usually a fifteen-minute dose of the deejay was enough to last him for weeks. All at once he was frantically searching for something that would keep her with him. Kyle would like to believe this was due to his incarceration, but he doubted it.
    She was almost to the door when he stopped her. “Carrie.”
    Eagerly she whirled around, as if she too were reluctant to part. “Yes?”
    “Thank you.”
    “For what?”
    He wasn’t sure where to start. His indebtedness was multiple. “For everything, but mostly for pawning your ring on my behalf.”
    “No problem.”
    “I’m sorry it came to that. I’ll get you the money the instant we get our traveler’s checks replaced.”
    A slow, easy smile spread across her features, lighting up her eyes in such a way that seemed to reach across the room and touch him.
    “You owe me big-time for that, fella.” She blew him a kiss and was gone before she could see him catch it in his right hand and hold on to this imaginary part of her with a tight fist for several moments.
    A deputy arrived shortly afterward with an older man who’d obviously been arrested for being drunk in public. At least the man was a happy drunk, who insisted on singing something about Tom Dooley and hanging down his head.
    The officer placed the guy in the cell next to Kyle. The drunk waved to Kyle and fell onto the bunk. “Howdy.”
    “Hello,” Kyle responded cautiously.
    “I’m drunk.”
    “I noticed.”
    “You be quiet and sleep it off, Carl,” the deputy instructed.
    “You be quiet,” Carl shouted, and thinking himself inordinately clever, he laughed.
    “What’d they get you for, buddy?” Carl asked, sitting up long enough to pose the question and then promptly falling back onto the cot.
    “Jaywalking,” Kyle admitted sheepishly.
    Carl let loose with a loud screech and leaped off the bed. He hurried to the cell door and gripped the bars. “I ain’t stayin’ in a cell next to a jaywalker! What kind of place is Sheriff Collins running here?”
    “Shut up and go to sleep, Carl,” the deputy advised again, sounding bored.
    “I ain’t safe. You put me next to a…a jaywalker.”
    “You know what a jaywalker is, Carl?” the deputy asked with infinite patience.
    “You think I’m dumb? Of course I know. He walked all over those pretty blue birds. You put me in jail next to a bird killer. I don’t have to take this.” He braced his hands against the bars and rattled them with the full force of his strength. “I want out of here.”
    Kyle lay down on the lumpy cot and tucked his hands beneath his head. “My sentiments exactly,” he muttered.

5
    “ We’re asking that you contact the Secret Service if you run into Max Sanders a second time,” Richards instructed them as Sheriff Collins unlocked the jail door. With a dignified gait, Kyle stepped out of the cell.
    Personally, Carrie would welcome the opportunity to tangle with that scoundrel Sanders just so she could tell him what she thought of him. The man had caused her and Kyle nothing but grief.
    Kyle accepted a business card from Richards and studied the phone number as if he intended to memorize it then and there. “Is that what this is all about?” he asked quietly.
    Carrie wasn’t deceived by his docile manner. Kyle was furious, and doing a marvelous job of restraining his irritation. But just barely. She’d seen him in this mood