Page 84 of A Gathering of Secrets

“I told him next time we have to chase one of his stinkin’ hogs, I’m going to cite him.”

I give a thumbs-up. “Pickles, I understand a couple of kids were smoking cigarettes on school property yesterday afternoon.”

“Willie Steele’s boy, Chief. He’s eleven and has the IQ of a two-year-old.”

“Nut doesn’t fall too far from the tree,” Glock murmurs.

That conjures a round of laughter. I’m obliged to ignore it. “The parents called the mayor and complained,” I tell him. “Said you were too rough on him.”

“I confiscated the smokes, Chief. Kid wasn’t happy about it.”

“I’ll let Auggie know. Keep up the good work.”

Movement at the door draws my attention. I glance up to see Mona enter. Something goes soft in my chest at the sight of her. Navy jacket. Pale pink blouse. Pencil skirt that falls below her knees. I’ve seen her in everything from miniskirts to knee boots to burgundy-streaked hair. And I’m reminded that this is probably one of the most important days of her professional life.

“Glad you could join us,” I say to her, using the same tone I’d use for Skid or Glock if they were late for a meeting.

“Sorry, Chief.”

I pick up my mug and use my pen to ding it bell style. “As most of you know, our department is understaffed and has been for quite some time. I’m pleased to report Mayor Brock has increased our budget and as of this morning Mona Kurtz is Painters Mill’s first female officer.”

Some of the guys let fly with comments, so I raise my voice and speak over them. “Mona brings with her an associate’s degree in criminal justice, over three years of dispatch experience, knowledge of our ten-code system, the Ohio Revised Code, and of course familiarity with Painters Mill.”

Everyone in the room had already known about the promotion; they signed the card for her, after all. Still, the official announcement is a formality I felt was important.

“Mona will continue in her position as dispatcher until I can hire a replacement. During that time, I’ll be asking her to ride with each of you on occasion.”

I leave the podium and stride toward Mona, my hand extended. “Congratulations, Officer Kurtz.”

We shake and I can’t help but notice how incredibly happy she looks, despite the sheen of tears. “Thanks, Chief,” she whispers, and then pulls me into an embrace.

Next to her, Skid rises and high-fives her. “Hell yeah!”

“About damn time,” Pickles mutters.

From the door, Jodie squeals. “Oh my God! I’m so happy for you!” Joining hands, she and Lois dance in a circle.

Glock smacks Mona on the back before wrapping her in a bear hug. “Welcome aboard, rookie.”

T.J. snaps a couple of photos with his phone and crosses to her. “I guess this means I’m off graveyard shift.”

I pause at the doorway and watch the scene, taking it in, putting it to memory, knowing it’s one of those moments that will stay with me.

* * *

It’s nearly five P.M. when I get the call from Tomasetti. “What are you up to, Chief?”

“Chasing shadows mostly. How about you?”

“Chasing chickens.”

I laugh, unduly pleased by the sound of his voice.

“The lab supervisor of the latent print unit just called. The latent on the casing left at the scene the night you were shot belongs to Mark Petersheim. He was your shooter.”

I let out a breath. I hadn’t realized until this moment how heavily the not knowing had been weighing on my shoulders. “Do his prints match the latent lifted off the key found at the Gingerich scene?”

“It’s not a match,” he tells me. “We’ve fingerprinted everyone in the Gingerich family. Those comps should be done soon.”