but I love gossip.”
“Since I do, too, it’d be hypocritical to complain.” Frankie shook her head. “He wasn’t a date—at least, not mine. I caught the man banging a woman in the roadhouse bathroom, and he called me the c-word for interrupting before he finished.”
“Interrupting a banging? How rude of you.” Sarah burst out laughing.
“Guys don’t change no matter the size of the city.” Neither did women, actually. Frankie considered the coffee shop owner…who liked gossip. “I must say, I’ve never met any men who are quite like those Patriot Zealots. What’s with them?”
“Them.” The word held a super-helping of disgust. “They believe every word of their so-called prophet, Parrish, and they treat women like shit. Don’t use them as an example of normal Alaskan guys.”
“Ah, another example of a messed-up navigation system.”
Sarah gave her a puzzled look. “Navigation system. What?”
“It’s like…ideas originate in a man’s little head”—Frankie motioned toward her crotch—“and go through the pelvic roundabout before reaching the big head”—she tapped her forehead—“so they can think before acting. Unfortunately, some men’s thoughts never make it out of the round-about.”
“That’s a scary analysis and too true.” Sarah had a beautiful laugh. “The PZs lose a lot of brainpower in that sex roundabout.”
“Huh.” Hmm. If sexual stuff made them brainless, would that be a way to get more information? She needed to know Kit was still there. She’d said they might send Obadiah, her, and Aric back to Texas.
It would be awful to break into the compound and find out Kit wasn’t even in the state.
“I could have called the police, rather than shouting at the restroom lothario,” Frankie said. “But I don’t know JJ well or how she’d react.”
Sarah smiled. “Officer JJ would have hauled his bare ass out through the bar, pitched him into the parking lot, and given him a reaming out…without raising her voice.”
“Huh. I raised my voice. I guess Alaskans are less rude—or does she like the lothario types like the PZs?”
“JJ?” Sarah burst out laughing. “She’s a female in what the idiots consider a man’s profession and has suffered for it from day one of her career. She’s only been in Alaska since last fall—she’s from Nevada—but I know she’d love to kick some PZ butts.”
That sounded good. Still…she’d best be sure. Frankie shook her head. “It’s odd, but I swear I heard one of the police officers was a Patriot Zealot.”
“Oh, you’re thinking of the patrol officer whose place she took. Officer Baumer was a PZ…right up until the bars closed behind him.”
Neither JJ nor Gabe were Patriot Zealots. Relief swept through Frankie; she liked them both. And the last officer was in jail. “I’m sure Officer Baumer is getting lonely. We should send some of his fanatic friends to keep him company.”
Sarah snickered. “For JJ, the woman has a talent at diffusing situations. She’s incredibly controlled. She doesn’t even swear much…unlike certain Italians I’ve heard of.” Sarah winked, and Frankie knew she’d found another possible friend.
Frankie wrinkled her nose. “At least I swear in another language to keep from offending all the English-speaking people.”
“You’re going to have to give me a translation guide,” Sarah said. “Just for…educational…purposes.”
Frankie laughed.
Expression sobering, Sarah traced a finger in a wet spot on the table. “I spoke with Harvey, the other day. About you and Bull doing that role-play intervention.”
Uh-oh. Frankie waited, hoping the conversation wasn’t about to turn ugly.
“Harvey has been our friend since my husband and I arrived in Rescue.” Sarah half-smiled. “He said his behavior had been totally out of line, and most places would either have condoned his assholery or fired him. You and Bull educated him and gave him a chance to make things right. He really does appreciate it.”
Frankie relaxed. “He’s working hard to make amends. Even better, he’s turned into the sexual harassment police. No one steps over the line in the kitchen, and the young women told me they’re a lot happier at work.”
Sarah grinned. “He was horrified to think they saw him as a dirty old man. He said he’s going for a knight protector title instead.”
“We’re all grateful he feels that way.” Poor Bull was still unhappy he hadn’t caught the problem before.
A customer entered the shop, and Sarah rose. “It was nice to finally get a chance to talk with you. We’re glad you’re here.”
What a sweet thing to say. “Thank you.”
Nibbling on the pastry, Frankie watched Sarah serve the steady stream of customers. Some came in for coffee, some for bakery goods. A person could