Paradise Lake: A Love Story
Disclaimer: Scooby Doo and all related characters are owned by Hanna-Barbera, Warner Bros.,and Cartoon Network. All other characters, names, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, places, and incidents is coincidental.
A/N: My thanks to Teardrops and Roses for allowing me to use her nickname, "Kitten", from her story, "Good Morning, Kitten".
My mom, whose birthday was on February 14th, passed away before she could read any of my stories. To my mom, who taught me to read and more, to love reading, I dedicate this story.
Any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone.
Chapter One: Prologue: The Deputy
Paradise Lake. Just the name brought a smile to the deputy's face. Sheriff's Deputy Paul Goodwin, just a local kid who had went off to serve his country, mostly as a member of a Military Police unit and after his hitch was up wanted nothing more but get as far away from those memories as possible. He had settled on Paradise Lake to do just that.
Upon hearing he had M. P. training, the Sheriff had signed him up and sent him off to the Police Academy. One thing the Sheriff liked about officer Goodwin was the fact that he didn't complain about when assigned some boring duty. Take tonight for a perfect example. The storm had passed but had left a lot of damage in it's wake; the deputy was satisfied just to patrol the expensive homes that hugged the shoreline until the owners could be notified.
Not much to do during the winter months; it was summer when the kids flocked in with their rich parents that rubbed nerves raw. The young girls were easy on the eye and the boys knew better than give him any lip, especially if they wanted him to look the other way as he patrolled the 'Lover's Lane' of the lake road. There wasn't much for the younger set to do besides swim, sail and a few liked to fish or hunt. If they wanted to park and steal a kiss or two or three the deputy didn't mind as long as they kept it at that.
Life was good and he preferred to keep it that way.
Paradise Lake. Clear blue water with green rolling hills against a backdrop of mountain peaks that were snow capped half the year and scenery that would take your breath away. Deputy Goodwin checked the dashboard clock and decided it was time for a cup of coffee and stretch his legs. He pulled the cruiser off the road onto a grassy pullout; grabbing the thermos of coffee he exited the vehicle and stretched his six foot four inch frame to relieve tight muscles.
The only sounds were the click of his lighter as he lit up, the hot coffee being poured into a travel mug and the light breeze wafting through the trees. Smoke and steam rose together to be carried away and the deputy zipped up his coat against a wind gust. Another two hours till the end of his shift and then home to an empty apartment and some much needed sleep.
The scream ripped the peaceful setting apart. Deputy Goodwin was shocked at first; screams were not the normal occurrence in the peaceful mountain retreat. Crushing out his smoke and pitching the coffee away he tried to pinpoint the direction of the scream; the mountain air could play funny tricks with sound. He was well aware of the area and immediately rejected that it had come from some local girl who had changed her mind over an exuberant kiss.
The shriek had had the the feel of real terror and had not been repeated. Most of the homes were locked up for the winter; one home had a maid coming in to clean up for the arrival of the owner. The deputy headed for that home with cruiser and imagination running at top efficiency.
He slowed turning into the snow covered graveled driveway that led to the Blake estate. He killed the headlights and coasted until the cruiser came to a complete stop beside the drive. He reached over for the mic and called in, asking for backup and after a moments reflection added a request for an ambulance.
He knew the Paradise Lake police force was small and he'd be on his own until help could arrive. That couldn't be helped and whoever had screamed needed his help. He exited the cruiser, drawing his weapon. The deputy melted into the trees bordering the drive, making his way toward the house. When the house again came into view he couched, listening to the night. He turned on the balls of his feet, looking back the way he had come, hoping to see the flashing lights that would herald the coming of his requested backup. He saw, heard nothing. He couldn't stay where he was and just wait; maintaining a low profile he raced across the lawn until he bumped into the side of the house. Taking a few deep breaths to calm his racing heartbeat, he inched toward the nearest window and peered inside.
The noise came from behind him making him whip around, gun moving from side to side. "Come out where I can see you!" He tried to keep the mounting fear from his voice. This was no time to show fear; later perhaps but not now. "Hands on top of your head!"
The figure materialized out of the trees, a woman dressed in a mud streaked and wet (white?) night gown that had risen to mid thigh with her hands clasped over her head. The deputy walked toward the ghostly shape, eyes searching the woods for any further movement. There was none.
"What's your name? Are you the one who screamed?" His voice carried the commands with a calm confidence from years of training. The woman swayed, eyes wide with fright, staring at the approaching man in uniform. She remained silent.
"It's Ashley isn't it? Let's get you inside." He holstered his weapon, removing his fleece lined jacket. He reached out to drape the warm coat around her shoulders; she jerked back at the contact as if he'd hit her. Goodwin had to catch her before she fell. picking her up in his arms he carried her toward the house. She didn't object to this contact, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"The front door is unlocked," she whispered so low he wondered if she'd spoken at all. The trip from the edge of the woods to the front door was reasonably short but enough for Goodwin to recall their first meeting. It was Sheriff Deputy Goodwin back when he had given her a speeding ticket. Their next meeting had not gone well either. It had happened several days later when he saw her at the coffee shop where he was having his lunch break. After thinking about asking her out on a date, he had built up the courage to ask her out; the problem was, as he approached her table he had bumped into the waitress delivering drinks and her drink had ended up in her lap. So much for budding romance. He hadn't had the courage to approach her after that.
Once inside the house he reluctantly let her slip from his arms to stand on her bare feet. Flipping on the light switch he said, "You need to get out of that..." he tried to find a diplomatic way of saying 'soaking wet nightgown' but failed saying instead, "and into something more comfortable."
In the moonlight she had been stunning, even when frightened. Now, in the glow of the one light, stunning didn't come close to describing the woman before him. He had to tear his eyes from the vision to quickly survey their surroundings. A study/library lay on the right, a darkened hall lead away to bedrooms he assumed; a stairway led to the second floor and more bedrooms.
"I'll need to get my bag." She indicated the dark hallway, pulling his attention back to the clinging nightgown and the shapely figure it covered.
"Fine, but I go with you. I'll check the bedrooms while you change." She only turned and headed down the hall, "You won't mind if I shower," it was a statement, not a question, "take your time, they're no longer here." He followed the swaying hips, kicking the heater higher as he passed the thermostat, hearing the furnace come to life.
He heard the music of running water when he passed the bathroom after checking the empty bedrooms. She had been correct, whoever 'they' were had disappeared with no trace.
"Ashley, I have to ask you a few questions. Just routine for my report." He tried to be as reassuring as possible. She had returned to the living room dressed in pink orchid colored sweats, toweling her hair.
She didn't answer, sitting beside Goodwin on the sofa. He let the silence stretch out into the quiet of the night.
"Okay, ask your questions. May I call you Paul?" Her voice was stronger, a little smile played teasingly at the corners of her mouth but it had an uneasy edge to it that the Deputy didn't like.
"If it would make you more comfortable," he responded. He was about to ask his first question when the smile disappeared and she stiffened as if she had heard something only she could hear, something that petrified her.
He heard it too; sirens coming closer, but there was a low humming, coming closer. Whatever was making the humming noise would be there long before the promised back up. "That's only my help. I'll have to go out to meet them."
"Don't go out there! They're coming back!" She threw her arms around his neck in a death grip. "Please, Paul," she pleaded.
"It'll be okay. I'll stay in the yard, if it will make you feel better."
"Paul, I don't think any thing will be okay ever again."
He liked the feel of her in his arms, the freshly shampooed smell of her hair. Even the trembling of her body carried an intoxicating feeling he had seldom, if ever, felt.
Sheriff's Deputy Paul Goodwin then did something he had never done before...he kissed a suspect...hard. Surprisingly, the kiss was returned.
Countdown to Valentine's Day: Seven days.
TBC