Moody’s voice floated down the hall, and I swiveled my chair to face my computer. By the time he walked in, I was creating a form for my officers to fill out with their uniform sizes.
“I’m here,” he said, standing in the doorway.
“Sit.” I kept on working for another five minutes, letting him stew. Playing games with people wasn’t normally my thing, but Moody brought out the worst in me. At what I estimated to be his tenth loud sigh, I shut down the monitor.
“Captain, before we’re done here, one of two things is going to happen. You are either going to give me your word that you accept me as the police chief, or you’re going to put your gun and badge on my desk.”
He sputtered and his face turned red. I held up my hand. “I’m not done yet. This department’s a joke. Since you’ve acted as the interim chief for the past six months, some of that is on you.”
“You son of—”
“Careful. Here’s the thing, Moody. Together, you and I could make the Blue Ridge Valley Police Department something that our officers and our town could be proud of. You’re either with me or against me. Which will it be?” He’d been with the department longer than any other officer here, and for that reason alone, I was giving him one last chance.
“You let a murderer walk free. You arrested a poor girl who was traumatized. How the fuck do you expect me to be with you on anything?”
Stupid ass. I deducted a million—no, a trillion—points. “If by a murderer you mean Gertie Jenkins, her guilt or non-guilt is up to the courts. And by the poor girl, if you mean Stephanie, the court will also decide her guilt or innocence based on the evidence, not me. That’s how the law works.”
I wanted to knock some sense into him with my fist. Never had a man working for me frustrated me the way Moody did. “Time’s up. Do I have your support?”
Moody shot up so fast you’d think his chair was on fire.
“I don’t have to take this shit from you.” He paused at the door, giving me a hard stare that he probably thought would have me shaking in my boots. “You can expect a call from the mayor.”
I rolled my eyes at the empty doorway. According to the addition I’d made to my contract before I scrawled my John Hancock on it, if Jim John wanted me gone before my year was up, he would have to give me a letter terminating my employment signed not only by him but the town manager and all three commissioners. It wasn’t going to be so easy to get rid of me. I was pretty sure I had all but Jim John on my side. And that was only until I found out what Moody had on the mayor.
By the evening shift change, I hadn’t heard a word from Jim John. Nor had I seen Moody since our morning meeting. Truthfully his absence made for a much improved atmosphere in the building.
As the evening officers arrived and the day shift returned to the station, I gathered them in the lobby. “I have some good news,” I said, getting their attention. “As soon as you fill out the form Tommy’s about to pass out and get it back to me, we’ll be able to order your new uniforms, courtesy of your mayor.”
Whistles and enthusiastic clapping filled my ears. “You’ll get one dress uniform, one logoed black leather jacket, five dark blue polo shirts with our logo, and three pairs of black cargo pants.” I held up a picture the uniform company had sent me.
“Those are awesome,” Sarah Griffin said, and everyone vigorously nodded.
They were. I’d like that uniform for myself, but settled for what I’d already picked. Wearing something different from my officers set me apart, which was an important thing to do, and giving them the super cool uniform scored me points.
“The second bit of news you’re going to like, your next paycheck will have a five percent increase.” I waited for the huzzahs and cheers to die down. There was enough money in my new budget to give them even more, but they didn’t need to know that.
“This is the only time there will be across-the-board increases. From here on out, your raises will be based on your job performance. Your first review will be six months from today. Whether you get a raise at that time will depend on you.”
Fortunately my new police department wasn’t unionized. In Chicago I’d never be able to get away with that. As they filed out, either to go home or on shift, each man and woman came up and thanked me. I felt pretty damn good.
Gene, my sole detective, the last to leave and the last to comment, said, “The mayor thought of this? Not likely.”
“Could be likely. Guess you’ll never know.” He rolled his eyes, making me chuckle. I followed Gene to his desk. “You in a hurry to get out of here?”
“I got some time.”
“Good. Grab that cold case file you’re working on and bring it to my office.” I stopped in the break room, got an RC Cola, which I’d seen Gene drinking previously, a bottle of water for myself, and a half bag of pretzels I saw on the counter.
“Tell me about the case,” I said, digging into the pretzels.
“Six years ago, Old Man Scroggins’s prize bull went missing—”
“Say again.”
Gene’s lips twitched. “Yeah, it’s a prize-bull cold case.”
“That’s what I thought you said. Go on.” God forbid the guys back in Chicago got ahold of this. I’d never hear the end of it.
