Page 8 of Love Me Gently

I turned toward our chief, Tim Lannister. He was leaning half out of his office.

“Yeah, Chief?”

“Need you. Come here.”

I shoved to my feet as Eddy oohed, “Oooh someone’s in trouble.”

I chucked a pencil at him and hit him square between the eyes. “Do something useful with yourself while I’m gone.”

“I hear Heather Samson is single again. I could go do?—”

“Don’t.” I shivered. I didn’t want to know anything about anyonedoinganything with Heather. “Do your job, idiot.”

“Aye-aye, captain.”

I snorted. “Not yet.” Not even close. I was perfectly content being a sergeant and getting to stay out on the streets with the men and women I supervised. Someday, when I was ready to give that up, I’d be aiming for that job, though.

“Yes, Chief?”

Tim sat in his chair, leaning back in it, while waving me into his office. “Come in. Come in. Have a seat.”

I scanned his cluttered office, stacks of papers piled high, including the two chairs on the opposite side of his desk. The man was an honorable and excellent chief of police, had lived in Deer Creek his entire life, and was staring down the retirement age. He had shining white hair, what little was left, a robust stomach from both age and a fondness for

American beer and had the respect of every man on the force.

He also couldn’t organize his office if his life depended on it. “Where? On the floor?”

“Smart aleck,” he muttered. “Move that stack.”

He waved his arm toward the chair closest to me. I grabbed the files, set them haphazardly on top of the chair and in their own pile next to me, and said a quick prayer that the whole thing didn’t topple before sliding into the chair.

“So, what’s up?”

“There’s a conference next month I want you to attend. Think you can work that into your schedule?”

Benefits of being in a small town and having a good boss, was the understanding of having to share custody time with my children. “What’s the conference? And when is it?”

“It’s the National Detective’s Conference in Atlanta. Think it’d be good for you to be the one to represent us this year.”

He handed me a flyer for it, and I took a quick glance. “This is for lieutenants and higher ranks.”

“And both Bo and Jack nominated you to be the attendee.” Bo Parker was our captain and had been for the last three years. Jack was a lieutenant and like our chief, was closing in on retirement age.

“Is that because they hate me?”

Atlanta was my least favorite city on the planet and anyone who knew me for longer than ten years knew exactly why. I’d vowed to never step foot in the state of Georgia if I didn’t need to, and so far, I’d succeeded. Outside of a few bathroom stops on family vacations on the way to Florida, anyway.

“No. Jack said he thinks it’d be good for you to get the experience in the training, and Bo said if he attends another conference this year, he’s going back to being a street cop. So, you’re next.”

Atlanta. If it were anywhere else, I’d jump at this opportunity. It was ridiculously stupid to boycott an entire city, but my impulse was to say no.

“It’s three days,” Chief continued, like I wasn’t having a crisis of morality mixed with stupidity. “Can you clear your calendar?”

I scanned the pamphlet again. He’d probably already reserved my spot since the deadline was near. Probably had my hotel room booked too. I didn’tactuallyhave a choice in this unless Marie would refuse to help with the kids, and that wouldn’t happen.

Besides, some of the sessions would be helpful. We were a small town, but we tried to stay up to date with the newest technologies. A sprawl from larger, neighboring towns and a boom at a nearby university hit Deer Creek about six years ago and since then our population doubled. So did our crime. Most of it was petty crime. But domestic violence was on the rise, as well as drugs. Learning more de-escalation techniques was always helpful. As well as community building.

“I’ll go.” I folded the pamphlet. “Anything else you need from me?”

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