Samantha King sighed, locking the last customer out for the night. She turned, leaning against door of the small town grocery store which held her trapped.

Trapped wasn’t exactly a fair assessment.

She didn’t mind running the only market on Little Island. In fact, mingling with the folks she grew up with was a comforting lifestyle for her, affording her ample time to indulge in her hobbies.

Her best friend, Regan, thought Little Island just a little too little and headed for the nearest city 250 miles away the day after high school graduation. Regan, ambitious and driven, had risen the corporate ladder to new heights by becoming the boss’s wife. She was the head of this department or the vice president of another, changing her title as often as she changed her shoes. At 200 pairs and counting, this was a slight exaggeration.

Sami giggled, thinking of Regan’s closet.

Whenever Sami decided the peace of Little Island too peaceful, she visited Regan for a bit.  However, returning from her most recent jaunt into the city had left her unusually melancholy.

Normally, summer, being the slow time, was Sami’s favorite season on the island. Time to enjoy the lake and the time away from the market. This year, every season was slow. An abundance of snow in winter and an exceptionally cool spring caused tourists to look elsewhere for hunting and fishing and camping. This year, Little Island wasn’t just peaceful, it was unconscious.

On a whim, Sami had persuaded Mr. Petersen, a perpetual stock boy who was about one hundred years old yet very capable, to mind the store. She hopped in her car and took off for Regan’s house without taking time to change her clothes.

Sami pulled her Jeep Cherokee to the front of Winthrop Towers several hours later. A valet snatched her keys away haughtily, and the doorman let the door nip her in the rear as though he couldn’t be bothered with showing courtesy to a country girl in jeans and sneakers.

Sami at last recognized a friendly face behind the check-in desk.

"Good afternoon, Miss King," Max, the security guy said a second after the door bounced off her backside.

"Hey, Max. Got some new blood out front, I see," she said, nodding towards the doorman and valet who were both new since Sami’s last visit. They didn’t know she was going to the penthouse where Regan and John, the owners, lived.

"I’m very sorry for their rudeness," Max said apologetically. "I’ll speak with them about it."

"No, Max. Don’t sweat it. I’m sure they have more rudeness to deal with than they dish out."

Max flashed a toothy grin and winked.

Sami’s heart fluttered.

Oh, jeez. She thought, I’ve got a thing for a rent-a-cop.

Max buzzed the penthouse, although he knew Sami was considered family by the Parkers. He wanted to spend every second he could taking in her translucent skin and silvery eyes. This visit was the last time he would see her, maybe for forever.

Little Island - 2 (Continue)