Page 15 of Riding the High

“Play nice, kid,” my office administrator, Bev, warns as I enter the reception area on my way to my next meeting.

I’ve known Bev since I was a rookie. She’s in her late fifties and keeps everything in this building in order, including me. She’s the only one I trust enough to vent to about Brent, who she thinks is “like a little weasel with an agenda.” A weasel that always needs some busywork.

“Always,” I grin as I hand her a freshly brewed coffee from our mediocre machine.

She accepts it eagerly.

“Have you eaten today?” she asks. Some men have a work wife; I have a work mother.

“Not yet, I’ll grab something quick after this meeting,” I say, glancing at my phone for the time. How is it after one already?

“How’s it going this morning, Deputy?” I ask, playing nice, when I enter Brent’s office a few minutes later. He’s been asking for this meeting since last week. He’s a fairly big guy and looks like your typical Kentucky farm boy. I’ve known him for yearsand, while he used to be strong and fit, judging by his beer gut now, I’m guessing he sucks back a few too many after work.

He sits up in his chair when he sees me, puffing out his chest as he pulls documents out of his drawer.

“I wanted to talk to you about a policy I think needs changing,” he says, attempting an authoritative voice.

Here we go …

I grit my molars.

“Which policy?”

“Your spending policy.”Sounds about right.

“Well, that’ll be easy. Seeing as this is my third day, I haven’t spent anything.”

I scrub my jaw.

“Oh wait, grabbed Bev some label tape yesterday when I left the courthouse.” I grin.

“I mean for the future,” he sneers. He hates that I’m his boss. “After what happened with Sheriff Sims, I think we need to open everything up. Currently we only report the general account online. That’s because any money he was using to pad his own pockets came from the Facilities fund. He was allotting a huge budget for food for inmates and then buying the bare minimum. Instead, he’d purchase gift cards at the local grocery store to gamble online.”

I nod. I know all this already of course.

I lean back in my chair across from him. Fuck it, I have nothing to hide.

“Great idea,” I say, nodding. His tensed jaw falls slack with my agreement. “Why don’t you head up a financial responsibility committee?”

If I don’t pick my battles, it’s going to be a long-ass four years.

“Okay. I can ask Tucker, Bates and … Fuller to help?”

I nod. “Sure. And you’ll keep monthly spending reports of every cent you spend too. Everyone will. Let’s show this townwe’ve got nothing to hide. Oh, and you can start by getting me a detailed report of every area we can save in.” That should keep him busy.

I stand and get ready to head out to the meeting I have next, planning for some new training programs I’m thinking of running for the deputies. “Oh, and Brent. I’ll expect those reports with weekly logs of your time, Mondays by nine a.m.”

“Seems like a waste of your time to read through all that,” he says. Brent hates paperwork—he never gets his statements and reports in on time. “I can just handle this for you.”

Yeah, or do your best to twist what’s going on here and make it look like I’m doing something I’m not.I don’t trust this guy as far as I can throw him. And I know firsthand from loyal constituents that he was spreading rumors about me after Sims was fired, hoping to take the top spot over me.

“I’m sure you can handle it.” I put my hat on. “And what kind of sheriff would I be if I didn’t have a hand in everything my staff was doing?”

He doesn’t answer, and I breeze by Bev on the way to the boardroom.

“That should keep him out of your hair for a few days,” I tell her with a grin.

“Your facilitator for the safe work environment class is already in your office. There’s sandwiches if you’re hungry,” she calls out as I head down the hall.

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