The phone rings and I grab it on the third ring, "Hey, Walt." My heart stops at the sound of her voice. Hearing her in my ear is so unexpected and it feels like she just caught me thinking about my wildest sexual fantasy but then again all of my fantasies of her are, well pretty much wild, but somehow I think she would find them pedestrian.

"Sorry to bother you on your only day off but we have a dead body."

My mind is still tracking back from the surprise of her voice and the obvious blush on my face making me thankful no one is here to witness the juvenile reaction of my body. The pause is long enough for her to add, "It's a real body not a member of the wildlife community."

"Where are you?"

"Behind Mike's Muffler Shop. It's not Mike."

"I'm on my way."

"No, Walt. I can handle it but I thought you should know that we have a homicide investigation. You know, as Sheriff, I don't want you to be caught by surprise when you come in tomorrow morning."

"Thanks, Vic….ah…I'm not doing much anyway…so ah..I'll lend you hand."

"Ok" she pauses, "I really could use a hand."

I hang up before she rethinks it. The truth is I want to see her, spend time with her; I always have time for Vic and clearly a murder to solve. I think what in the world is happening to my county?

I jump in the shower, throw on fresh clothes and am out the door in 10 minutes. Somewhere between the second and third minute I realize that I don't want Vic to see me dirty and out of sorts from purging the Bronco from it's past. The hot water cleanses my flesh from the past and it circles down the drain. I know I care about what she thinks and about what she sees when she looks at me. It's true, has been for a while, so I might as well admit it.

When I went to Macy's I bought a couple pairs of 501's and a few shirts but I decide not to wear new clothes to a homicide scene. One step at a time I remind myself.

A quick brush for my teeth, grab a bottle of water, and I'm gone. I stop and get two cups of coffee and two sandwiches. I pull up to Mike's and see Vic crouched down by the body. She looks up and flashes a quick smile, so quick, I almost think I imagined it but I'm pretty sure I didn't and by impulse I smile back and my hand hesitantly waves down by my pocket. I feel stupid, with the wave, and silently chastise myself for doing it.

The last time I saw Vic this engrossed was nearly a year ago when she was going through David Ridges car on the bridge. She found the key evidence that broke the case wide open by proving Ridges alive and put all roads in the right direction. I sped through town and practically ran to her that afternoon. Armed with the knowledge that Sean wanted a divorce, and being the son-of-a-bitch that had to tell her, I was also overwhelmingly compelled to shield her, protect her, from any more harm. I was acting like a man in love because I was but I didn't know it. She smelled good that day just like she does today when she stands up and walks over to me.

"Sorry, to ruin your Sunday, Walt."

"It's no bother. Just watching the game."

"Oh what quarter was it when you left."

"Broncos losing 12 to 20 in the 4th quarter."

"Oh Walt, if you had a cell phone you would know they tied it with 18 seconds left and the game is in overtime."

I laugh at her because she's pulling my leg. Vic's deliciously devilish grin widens and she says, "No, Walt" then she touches my arm and I can feel the warmth through my long sleeve and my jacket, "I'm not joking. See." She steps into me and now she's touching me and I feel the heat rise from my thighs and up through my chest and I can feel a bead of sweat on my brow.

She holds up her smartphone and pushes a button and shows me the score. "Walt, this is called an app. It's short for application. It shows the latest scores and all of the Red Zone action."

My face goes white but I'm hot. I don't understand what is happening to my 48 year old body.

She looks up at me, her ear is just touching my jacket and her gun holster is pressed against my hip. Yup, she's touching me and the Broncos may win this super bowl rematch. "You would know all of this if you would just break down and get a phone."

If I got a phone would you call me Vic and spend endless hours just talking to me, calming me, loving me, with the sound of your voice? Instead, I hear my teeth smack, and my head nod, "What do we got?" pointing to the rigor setting body.

"White male, about 35 years old, doesn't look homeless, he's well groomed. No i.d., no watch, no jewelry, so maybe a robbery gone wrong? Except this isn't Philly it's Durant, Walt. It seems really strange this would happen here?"

Not as strange as you staying here after Sean left with signed divorce papers in hand never looking back. Why did you stay, Vic?

"Hmmmm", I kneel down beside him and don't recognize him.

"We got ourselves a whodunit." In my haste to see her I left her coffee and sandwich in the cab. "Oh, ah...hey...there's a sandwich and a coffee for you in the Bronco. I figured you may be hungry." I try to smile.

"Thanks, Walt. I could use the coffee." She steps over to the Bronco and yells over, "Are the sandwiches both the same?"

"Yup"

"Holy bat shit batman, look at your fucking ride. Walt, it's so clean. Damn, it looks new in here." She looks over at me in amazement and I try to stare out our dead guy because I don't want to be embarrassed but I am thrilled that she noticed and even more thrilled that she was excited enough to let out a string of expletives.

She has a half a sandwich being held by her full lips and the other half still wrapped in paper. She hands me the wrapped half as she sips her coffee.

"How long did that take you to clean or did you get it done."

"Nope, I did it."

"Dang, Walt, didn't know you had it in you. The Bullet looks good." She smiles at me while the steam from the coffee blows up and over her face. Lucky steam.

"Sandwich, ok?" I ask because I really want to know and reaffirm that I am able to please her even if in this small way.

"Yeah, it's good. I love Dorothy's chicken salad. Good call."

I nod thinking that I never thought about chicken salad but I notice everything about her including how she orders chicken salad every Tuesday and she salts her green salad and puts way to much sugar in her coffee. How long have I noticed these things about her? How long have I loved her?