I often think about that summer
The sweat, the moonlight, and the lace
And I have rarely held another
When I haven't seen her face
-"That Summer", Garth Brooks
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Of all the things Brenda Leigh hadn't been expecting to deal with tonight, the flood of memories that washed over her at the sound of Sharon Raydor's voice was the one that most bewildered the beleaguered Deputy Chief.

It had begun with no more than a look, a blur of navy blue and perfect hair, and Brenda found herself overcome, torn in a thousand different directions as she struggled to maintain control over herself and the situation despite the turmoil that had overtaken her when the Captain entered. It was the strangest thing, she thought as she stared at the woman even as she resolutely kept her back turned on Brenda; it was almost as if all of Brenda's memories had been plucked from her mind, molded into flesh and set down before her. The clear green eyes, the wealth of dark hair, the curve of her hip, the way her lips carefully formed each of her perfectly articulated words; it was almost as if Brenda could smell the tobacco drying in the barn, feel the touch of hands she hadn't seen in so long, gentle on her skin and leaving their mark on her heart.

And that woman had ignored her! Had breezed by, clearly unaware of the effect she was having, hell-bent on getting her way. Brenda tried to listen to what she was saying, even as she dragged her eyes up and down the body that seemed so familiar, so like the one that had haunted her dreams since she was seventeen years old.

I am in so much trouble, she thought, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.

She looked away, focusing on the sound of the Captain's voice, listening to the biting way she addressed Gabriel and his attorney.

"Do you need help with the word immediately?" Raydor said, her voice low and deadly calm, the threat clearly evident.

She had possessed that same talent, Brenda remembered. To be more terrifying when she lowered her voice than when she raised it, to command respect, to hide her vulnerabilities behind a wall of strength. And oh but she had been so vulnerable, so in need of someone to help hold her up, and as Brenda stared at the dark-haired Captain, she couldn't help but wonder what it was Raydor needed.

She caught David's eye and silently berated herself for getting lost in her own mess when he was the one who needed her now. Time to go to work, she told herself, taking a deep breath when she realized that Raydor was turning, focusing all of her attentions on Brenda instead. She wasn't seventeen anymore, she was a Deputy Chief and this woman, no matter how enticing she might be, wasn't the one that Brenda remembered from that summer long ago; this woman was trying to incriminate David Gabriel of all people, and it was up to Brenda to protect him.

"Captain Raydor, it is so nice to finally meet you," Brenda said, the words not true in the least but then her mama had raised her to be polite, even when the person you were talking to made your blood boil. Brenda had heard quite a bit about the Captain, none of it good, and had hoped to avoid her for as long as possible. And after seeing Raydor in action, Brenda found that everything she'd heard was true. The woman seemed to be a bitch to the core, stubborn and determined to get her own way.

Brenda wished she didn't like that about her, but she did.

"So, I was told that Sergeant Gabriel and the victim had been sent to Cedars, and here you all are at Saint Catherine's Medical Center, and I was just wondering, how is it that you happened to be at the right hospital while I was sent to the wrong one?"

Brenda actually had to force herself to stare at the tip of the woman's nose; her lips were enchanting when they moved that way, and her eyes held a fire that scared the blonde Deputy Chief. She had to put a stop to this; she couldn't allow herself a moment's hesitation. David's career was on the line, and this woman appeared to be determined to destroy him.

Brenda wasn't about to let her.

She took a deep breath and smiled. "If I may, I'd like to offer some advice. When investigating shootings like this, I question the criminals first, before my fellow officers." She had intended to shame the woman, to point out that Gabriel was not in the wrong here, that they were all on the same side. And if she was honest with herself, she was also trying to antagonize the Captain. She imagined the dark-haired beauty was lovely when she smiled, and the last thing she needed now was the… distraction of such loveliness in her life. Let the Captain hate her; that would make things so much easier.

Raydor was having none of it, however; her eyes narrowed and her lips just kept right on moving. The tension lay thick on the ground between them, and though Brenda had succeeded in her attempts to pull rank, there was something in Raydor's eyes when she said, "Excuse me. Got work to do," that told Brenda in no uncertain terms that she had not won this round. She also had not won the Captain's respect.

Raydor turned and walked away, hips swinging, long, lean legs slicing under the hem of her navy coat, her officers flanking her like bodyguards, and Brenda couldn't help but stare.

I am in so much trouble, she thought.

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Brenda had gone home, to shower and change her clothes, and though her mind should have been firmly on the case, she found she could not focus on Gabriel and the mystery behind this shooting. She couldn't focus on her husband, still clinging to sleep in the bed they shared.

She had never told Fritz about that summer, about Anna Grace Robinson and everything that had happened between them. After Anna Grace, there hadn't been another woman who had so fully captured Brenda's attention. To be perfectly honest, there hadn't been any men, either, who had made her feel the way she did when she was seventeen and spending her long summer days with the lonely widow. But she'd gone back to Atlanta at the end of the summer and tried her best to forget it, put it behind her, pretend that that woman, with her long dark hair and quiet grace, hadn't so completely turned her life upside down.

And as the years passed, Brenda thought of her less and less; and yet, every now and then, Brenda would lay awake in the darkness with the smell of grass and moonshine on her mind, wondering what had happened to Anna Grace.

And now, Sharon Raydor. Every bit as distracting as Anna had been. Just as much of a challenge. Brenda found herself consumed with a desire to know her, to touch her, to hear her laugh. And as she stood beneath the pounding water pouring out of her shower (just a touch too hot, but she really couldn't be bothered to pay attention to details like that) her mind wandered back, to one summer so very long ago, and the woman who had changed Brenda in a way she'd never fully understood.

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