by Gracie Knight
Sergeant Cole Harding first spotted her sitting in a straight-backed chair in the corner of the police station. He couldn't see her face. She stared down towards the delicate hands clenched in her lap and long, thick caramel strands of hair concealed her features. It was the way she swung her plimsoled feet backwards and forwards in clear agitation that made him want to smile. Despite her subdued posture, there was attitude in her demeanour. He would lay money on there being a pout upon her lips too.
"Hey Mike," he called to the front desk officer. "Who's the kid in the corner?"
Mike shook his head wearily. "Shoplifter," he sighed. "Brought in a couple of hours ago by the store owner. No charges being pressed but we can't release her until she tells us who she is, so we can track down the parents."
"She's not talking?"
"Hasn't said a word since she got here."
Cole watched as her little jean-clad legs kept swinging. Had she been taller, her feet would have scuffed the ground with each swing but she was so tiny they cleared the floor by a good couple of inches.
"What did she steal?" Cole asked.
"A comb and a bar of chocolate."
Cole's mouth twisted with wry amusement. "Hardly grand larceny. Nothing a good spanking wouldn't sort out."
Mike nodded. "As un-PC as it is, I agree with you - which is probably why the little madam won't give us her name. I dare say her parents might think a smacked bottom is in order."
"I'll have a word with her," Cole decided.
"Aren't you finished for the day?"
Cole shrugged. "Yup but I've got nothing to rush home for."
Mike frowned. "You've been divorced over a year now, mate. It's time you started dating again."
"I'm enjoying my freedom," Cole announced, but in truth he had yet to meet a woman who interested him enough to want to get back in the dating game. He had very specific kinks and desires. His brief marriage had been an attempt to conform to the norm of society but it had proved a disaster. Krista had been as beautiful and vivacious as she was independent. She had rapidly grown to resent his attempts to nurture and protect her, whilst Cole had been left feeling frustrated and surplus to requirements. Within a year of taking their vows they had parted ways amicably but with a shared sense of relief that it was over.
He walked across the small station house, stopping in front of the little girl, far enough away so that she didn't kick him as she swung her feet, but close enough for his large black shoes to intrude upon her downcast vision. For endless seconds her head remained stubbornly bent as she attempted to ignore his presence. Cole folded his arms and waited. Don't try to out mule me, little girl, he thought sardonically. Eventually she raised her head and reluctantly looked him in the eye.
Cole found himself transfixed by the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Huge chocolate brown eyes, framed by the longest lashes caught and held his gaze. A small snub nose sat above a full bow mouth and, yep, there was the pout! Below that perfect mouth her pointed chin jutted out in defiance. He guessed her age to be around twelve or thirteen, possibly even younger. He schooled his expression to one of stern censure and adopted his most authoritative tone of voice.
"My name is Sergeant Cole Harding and you, young lady, are in big trouble."
Her eyes widened into twin pools glistening with unshed tears, and the pout instantly melted to a lip quivering curve of fear. Cole had to steel himself to maintain his disapproval. He glanced at his watch. "It's getting late. Don't you think your parents will be wondering where you are?" She shrugged. Not an insolent shrug but a small one of doubt. "I bet you're getting hungry too."
As though on cue, her tummy growled loudly. She blushed and put her hand to her stomach. Cole was once again tempted to smile at her sweet embarrassment. "Now why don't you tell me your name so we can get you home, hmm? It can't be much fun sitting here all afternoon."
Her little legs stopped swinging and small white teeth nibbled at her lower lip as she thought for a moment. "Rosalie," she murmured softly. "My name is Rosalie."
Cole hunkered down to her level and smiled. His shear size was enough to intimidate most people, let alone a frightened little girl, and instinct told him she wasn't a budding criminal, just a child crying out for attention. She returned his smile, an adorable dimple appearing in her right cheek.
"That's a very grown up name you have there, Rosalie." He gave her a wink. So much for stern disapproval. She was just too damn cute to be cross with. "But you look more like a Rosie to me."
She beamed. "My daddy used to call me, Rosie-girl."
Cole kept his tone light. "Used to?"
The little girl's smile faded. "He walked out on mum and me when I was six. Mum says he was a no good waster and we're better off without him but..." She trailed off and Cole had to fight the urge not to hug her.
"But you still miss him, huh?" She nodded and Cole sighed. "Well I bet he would be very disappointed if he knew his little Rosie-girl had been caught stealing, don't you?"
She nodded and a solitary tear trickled down her cheek. "I'm sorry."
"I'm glad to hear that," Cole stated seriously. "You're lucky this time. The shop owner isn't pressing charges but I don't want you ever brought here for shoplifting again. You could find yourself in very serious trouble. Do you understand, Rosie?"
Her full lip trembled. "Yes sir."
"Good," he said. "Okay. Now, how would you like a lift home in a police car?"
She cuffed away the tear and attempted to conceal her excitement. "Will you take me home?"
"You wouldn't rather me see if there is a female police officer free to drop you off?"
She folded her arms and the stubborn pout was back. "No, I want you to take me home."
He rose to tower over her, the shoulders of his uniform jacket pulling taut across his muscled bulk. "If I take you home, I shall be having a word with your mum, young lady. She needs to know what a naughty girl you've been today."
For an instant there seemed to be a glimmer of adult mischief in her velvet gaze but then it was gone and she nodded solemnly. "Yes sir."
She told him her address and he immediately knew the street was in the middle of a run down housing estate on the outskirts of the East Sussex town. In terms of miles, he didn't live that far from her himself but the difference in general prosperity and social status was vast. His house lay in a quiet tree lined avenue with neatly trimmed lawns and a park nearby. Rosalie's home was probably amongst a block of flats.
"Okay, kid, let's go." She hopped to the floor and stood beside him, barely reaching his top pocket. She was like a china doll, petite and delicate, although there was a hint of curves in all the right places. Cole studied her closely. "How old are you, Rosie?"
That little pointed chin came up. "Twelve," she announced, as though daring him to argue. "Almost a teenager."
Cole chuckled. "Wow! Practically grown up. This way then, madam. Your carriage awaits." She followed him towards the station exit. "Mike, I'm gonna take Bonnie Parker here home and let her mother know what she's been up to."
The pocket poppet frowned. "Who's Bonnie Parker?"
"Bonnie and Clyde?" She continued to frown and Cole sighed. "Never mind. Come on." As they neared the door, another policeman entered, propelling an abusive drunk ahead of him. The drunk stumbled and fell towards Rosalie who gasped and scurried behind Cole's broad back clinging to his sleeve. Cole instinctively pulled her round to his far side, away from the drunk who was spouting slurred profanity. "You okay?" he asked. She nodded but her tiny hand found his and he didn't have the heart to release it, even when the drunk had been safely steered over to the front desk.
She continued to cling to his hand until they reached his car, where he opened the rear door. "Hop in and buckle up," he instructed.
"I wanna sit up front with you."
"Uh uh," he said firmly, "little girls sit in the back." She pouted but Cole's expression remained firm. It took her several seconds to realise Sergeant Harding was no pushover and resign herself to a back seat ride. "Buckle up," he ordered again as she sat looking petulant. He waited for her to do as she was told before starting the engine and heading towards her address.
As he had suspected, Rosalie lived in small unit on the top floor of a three-storey block of flats. The elevator wasn't working and Cole lead her up the dingy staircase, lit only by one small bulb on each landing. She had sought out and gripped his hand from the moment they left the car. Cole was surprised by how comfortable he felt with her little hand securely in his grasp.
"Do you have a key?" he asked, once they reached her front door.
She nodded and fished out the key from the back pocket of her jeans. "I'm fine now," she assured him. "You really don't need to come in."
Cole raised an eyebrow. "Oh I think I do," he drawled. "I warned you earlier that I was going to discuss today's misdeeds with your mum. If you end up being grounded or even spanked then it's your own fault."
Colour suffused her cheeks at the mention of being spanked. She dropped her head and fidgeted on the spot. "Mum won't be in there."
Cole took the key from her fingers and opened the door. The flat was in total darkness and he flipped the switch in the hallway before following her into the lounge. The décor inside was dated and grubby with age but basically clean and tidy. "Where is she, Rosie?" he asked as she curled up on the sofa and drew her knees up defensively. She shrugged, refusing to meet his gaze. "Rosie, look at me," he ordered. "Tell me where your mum is."
"I don't know."
"Does she often leave you alone at night?" Another shrug. "Rosie! Stop shrugging, young lady, and answer me."
"I don't know where she is, or when she'll be home but I'm big enough to be left on my own so you can go away now."
Cole concentrated on remaining patient as he sat beside her and kept his voice calm. "Honey, you know I can't do that. If your mother doesn't come home soon I will have to contact social services."
Her eyes widened. "Why?"
"Because you're a minor and because I am not prepared to leave you alone in this flat all night."
She offered him a coy smile. "You could stay and look after me."
He took a deep, steadying breath. "That would hardly be appropriate now would it? Technically I shouldn't have even driven you home this evening."
"Why? I trust you," she said and her sincerity was heart warming.
"Thank you, little one," he smiled. "But that doesn't change anything. I can't look after you tonight. Now I'm gonna go into the kitchen and fix you a sandwich or whatever else I can find to eat. Then I'm calling social services and have someone come by and pick you up. They'll find an emergency foster placement for you."
Rosalie jumped to her feet in agitated panic.
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