“Oh. Well, let me set you up with Officer Stokes. He’s in charge of—”
“Morning, Kim.” Stanley stepped forward, offering a friendly smile. “How are you?”
The woman’s face lit up. “Oh, hi, Professor Thatcher. Niki and I werejust talking about you yesterday. She’s really enjoying your English class.”
“Glad to hear it. She’s a bright young lady. A pleasure to have in class.”
Kim beamed with pride. “She’s always been an excellent student—she must get that from Greg.”
“I’m entirely sure that’s not true. Listen, I know Chief Jameson is a busy man, but we have a matter of some import we’d like to discuss with him. Do you think you could get us a few minutes with him?”
“Oh, I think I can manage that. Have a seat in the lobby and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you, Kim. We sure do appreciate it.”
“Of course.” She headed back toward the offices and the men took seats in the waiting area.
Good thing Stanley was here. Gray wouldn’t have stepped foot past the chief’s doorway. As it happened, less than three minutes later Kim ushered the men into Jameson’s office.
The fiftysomething man rose from his seat. He was at least a few inches over six feet. The fluorescent light gleamed off his rich-brown dome. His uniform stretched over a barrel chest and muscular arms. If the guy spent most of his time behind a desk, he must make good use of a gym membership.
The chief greeted Stanley and Caleb like old friends, and Stanley formally introduced Gray, though the man undoubtedly knew him by reputation.
“Please, have a seat. I heard what happened last night, Gray. I’m glad no one was hurt.”
“We were lucky. But Iwasgrazed by a bullet, sir. A bullet that could’ve hit Caleb’s son.”
The chief’s keen brown eyes sharpened on Caleb. “I wasn’t aware.”
“Gray threw himself over Oliver after the first shot was fired. He may very well have saved my baby’s life.”
“Well, thank God for that. I haven’t had a chance to read the report yet.” His gaze returned to Gray. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened.”
Gray told him the full story, from the first shot to the discovery that he’d been nicked by a bullet. The man took notes on a pad of paper, listening without interruption. His expression gave away nothing.
When Gray finished, Jameson leaned his elbows on his desk. “The front room was dark? And two windows were shot?”
“Yes.”
“It sounds like this might’ve been meant as some kind of warning.”
“I don’t think the gunman necessarily meant to kill anyone, but that doesn’t negate the fact that he could’ve.”
“Fair enough. Do you have any enemies in town, Mr. Briggs? Anyone who might be holding a grudge?”
“Come on, Terrence,” Stanley said. “You know who wants Gray out of town.”
“I’ve heard the rumors, sure. But I don’t give much credence to gossip.”
Of course not. “You must know about the vandalism incident at my house last week—I filed a report. And back in November one of your officers pulled me over without cause.”
“Which officer was that?”
“Officer Remington stopped me for driving while intoxicated—even though I don’t drink alcohol at all and wasn’t swerving or breaking any traffic laws.”
He made a note. “Were you given a Breathalyzer test?”
“Yes. After he put me in handcuffs and brought me in. I was held for five hours. My test came back clean.”
